Living with Shadows (28 page)

so until the next time

all the very best

so don’t stop smiling you brighten

the dullest of days up

M a c

Ben had been spending a lot of time in his bedroom in the few weeks since he’d moved in, more than Kate was happy about. He preferred to take his meals up to his room rather than eat with them. He was untidy and left clothes, food wrappers, dirty cups, plates and newspapers lying around the floor. If she said anything, he simply told her he would see to it, but never did so that Kate would grab the opportunity to clear up after him whenever he went out. She would buy his local newspaper so that he might look for jobs in his area, but nothing was ever suitable. Jim was unaware of her mothering or her covering up for these deficiencies and so things had been ticking along nicely between them until one evening Kate was disturbed from her work by a noise from upstairs she felt sure had come from Ben’s room.

It had turned six. The house was quiet and she sat still for a few moments listening. Not wanting to disturb Jim from his sleep, she carefully picked up her papers and placed them in a heap on top of the table before leaving the room and tip-toeing upstairs. She stood outside and knocked but there was no answer. Slowly, she turned the handle and peeped around the door. ‘Oh God!’ She caught the words in her hands as she looked upon the quaking mass that lay curled up on top of the bed. She ran over to him. Ben was still fully dressed but was shivering so hard the mattress was shaking beneath him. His face was covered in sweat and his hair was wringing wet. ‘Ben, what is it? Tell me, what’s wrong.’

His eyes were closed and his arms folded around him as he fought to curb the tremors that ran through his body. Kate reached out and touched his matted hair. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. ‘Mum, help me,—please,’ he uttered before arching his neck and vomiting where he lay.

‘I’ll phone for the doctor.’ Kate was convinced this was some sort of reaction from the overdose, liver failure or kidneys.

‘No, don’t . . . I’ll be OK,’ he pleaded, looking at her through wild, bloodshot eyes.

‘Why not? What’s wrong with you?’ A feeling of dread ran over her. ‘Sam knows, doesn’t she?’

At last, the nightmare she’d been dreading had come home. She had always half known but now it was obvious. Now, everything made sense. She ran downstairs and dialled Sam’s number. ‘Sam, can you come over here now . . . it’s Ben. But then you know, don’t you.’

There was a moment’s silence. ‘I’ll be right over.’ And then she hung up.

Jim appeared and leant against the doorframe, a perplexed look on his face. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Ben’s ill. I’ve sent for Sam.’

‘Sam? Shouldn’t you be sending for a doctor?’

‘I don’t know, Jim . . . I really don’t know.’

Jim threw her a strange look and ran upstairs. He was gone several minutes and in that short time she felt the panic rising inside her. She knew the next few hours would be crucial and she prayed they might find a solution to this mess. She hurried into the kitchen and poured a bowl of hot water. Sheets, I need clean sheets, she told herself. She must keep busy; mustn’t stop or the awfulness of what was happening would overtake her and she wouldn’t be able to cope. She went into Ben’s room carrying the bowl of water, soap and a sponge, leaned over and wiped his face.

‘I really think he needs a doctor,’ Jim said. ‘He looks dreadful.’

‘Help me with this sheet, will you, Jim. If you can just move him to one side . . .’

Together, they managed to change the soiled sheet, both working silently and mechanically, sticking to the practicalities of the situation, but Kate sensed that Jim was puzzled by her cool efficiency. She heard the front door close and hurriedly picked up the sheet and took it downstairs to the washing machine. Sam followed her into the kitchen.

‘Where is he?’ she asked.

‘Where do you think?’

‘Look, don’t have a go at me. I tried to warn you ages ago, but you didn’t take a blind bit of notice.’

Kate realised she was right. She suddenly felt the energy draining from her and sat down on a stool next to the worktop, resting her head in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, Sam. What is it . . . what is he hooked on?’

‘Heroin.’

‘Heroin.’ The word stuck in the back of her throat. She looked up at Sam. ‘How can I help him? What should I do?’

‘I know what you should do. You should get him out of here, right now.’

Kate looked up to see Jim standing behind Sam. ‘Jim, you can’t mean that! He needs help.’

‘Well, let him find it somewhere else. I don’t want a drug addict in my house.’

She looked at him, not quite believing what he’d just said. ‘It’s o
ur
house, and I have as much right as you to say what goes on here.’

‘Will you two stop yelling at one another,’ Sam broke in. Jim ignored her and she flounced out of the room.

‘Or you just go behind my back. You haven’t helped him, you know, paying his debts without question. Now you know what he was spending all his money on.’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to show any compassion. No wonder your daughter hasn’t even told you about her baby,
your
grandchild.’

Jim’s face twisted into a sneer. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Sharon’s had a little girl.’

‘And how would you know that?’

‘I overheard Angela telling someone at the party.’ Jim looked at her as though he despised her, as though it was her fault she knew and he didn’t; and then he turned and walked away.

Kate looked out onto the garden and went over the events of the last few months. If only she’d challenged Ben; God knows there was enough reason to. She felt angry at the way she’d been deceived. But isn’t that what drug addicts did, lied and cheated? It didn’t matter who they hurt as long as they got what they wanted—craved. She thought of all the money she’d lent him to pay his debts, money that James had carefully saved throughout his life, not living long enough to enjoy it. She knew now what Jim had always suspected, that Ben had no intention of paying it back. He wasn’t capable with a habit to feed. She tried to tell herself that the money wasn’t important, yet at the back of her mind she knew it had to be because repaying debts was linked to decency and self respect, something she had been brought up with. Nowadays, it was a question of whether or not you could get away with it
.
No wonder she hadn’t been invited into his flat. She imagined it was in as bad a state as the last time she’d been there, squalor and squander hitting you in the face as soon as you walked in.

And then she thought about the drug barons; the misery they caused to the lives of innocent people. She worked with these people. She tried to help them but she and her family were victims of their wicked activities. They turned people into hideous monsters, liars and rogues. They preyed on people’s weaknesses and didn’t give it a second thought because they had no conscience. They were the scourge of society, far worse than someone like Michael who’d committed a one-off murder. They killed scores of people; they ruined people’s lives . . .

A magpie swooped down to perch on the edge of the faded trelliswork;
one
for
sorrow
. It twisted its head around in jerky movements before cawing loudly. Beneath its delicate pink feet, honeysuckle straddled the wooden frame. Tendrils that wove themselves in and out of the trellis looked coarse and ugly against the green leaves and pink flower heads. She imagined the scent from its flowers and remembered last year, August, sitting out in the garden beside that same plant, taking in great gulps of air, so heavy with scent that she could almost taste it. She loved to sit out in summer, reading, dreaming, moving her chair around the garden to catch the last rays of the sun; escaping the shadows that slowly crept across the lawn and took away the light.

A voice from behind startled her. ‘We’re going to mine,’ Sam said, clutching a bin bag. Ben stood beside her, still trembling, two more bags in his hands.

‘He’s not fit to go anywhere,’ Kate said, searching the stooped, ragged figure for some semblance of her son.

‘You need some space to sort things out with Jim. I’m not saying he’s right, but I can understand where he’s coming from.’ She looked at Ben.

‘She’s right, Mum. You gave me a chance and I’ve screwed up. I’m sorry . . .’

Kate walked over and put her arms around him. ‘Just get better, for me,’ she whispered. As soon as she had uttered the words, she realised how futile they were. If he was going to get over this, it wouldn’t be for her. God only knows what incentive he would need. All she hoped was that he’d find one because the alternative filled her with dread. She gave Sam a hug, and then they both turned and walked towards the front door. Sam popped her head into the living room and shouted ‘Bye’ to Jim, but there was no reply. Kate dreaded the thought of being alone with him. She was exhausted and had no more words left in her. She felt neither anger nor pity for him, nor love nor hate; only a sense of indifference towards him. She was not sorry she’d told him about Sharon. Perhaps it would stir up some paternal feelings and make him question whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life not knowing anything about his daughter, and now granddaughter. He might even examine his conscience and ask himself whether he was right to turn Ben away. Surely he could at least have given him a chance.

She watched her children scramble into the car and drive off. She was left wondering how Sam would cope and what Alex’s reaction would be. She hoped that Sam would be honest with him. There’d been enough deceit and in the end it only caused more misery.

They were barely out of sight when she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs followed by the sound of doors slamming in their bedroom. A few moments later hurried footsteps pounded the stairs. There was a slight pause before the front door slammed shut. Kate hurried to the living room window and saw Jim swing a holdall into the back of his car before climbing into the driver’s seat. He didn’t look up as he turned on the ignition and reversed out of the drive. In a moment he sped up the road and out of sight.

The following morning, Kate awoke early. The first thing she realised was the absence of Jim, and then the awful memory of yesterday. A sickly feeling came over her and she felt completely helpless and alone. Slowly, she pulled back the covers and went to get showered. She couldn’t face work today. Even if she could hide her feelings from the staff, she wouldn’t fool the prisoners. They were always receptive to people’s emotions and it wouldn’t take much to send her scurrying from the classroom in a flood of tears. She would have to ring in and say she was ill.

Kate sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her hair with a towel. It seemed strange that in spite of Jim’s hard-hearted behaviour yesterday, she missed him. The house seemed cold and hostile without him, though she knew that had he stayed, they would have ended up arguing. Still, he shouldn’t have just walked out like that. Surely he must realise how dreadful she was feeling now that the truth was finally out in the open. The phone rang and she reached across the bed and lifted the receiver from its cradle.

‘Hi, it’s Helen Duncan here. Is Jim there? He should have been here an hour ago.’

‘I’m sorry, he isn’t here just now. Can I get him to call you?’ Kate took down her number and sat staring at it for a while after she put down the receiver. She wondered what she should do. The thought of having to pass on messages to him irked her. Why should she worry about his customers? He hadn’t acted responsibly just taking off without a word.

After a while, she decided to ring him. Things were bad enough without losing business. It went through to his answering service and she left a curt message.

Frustrated by the situation, she decided to go out for the day. Jim’s disappearance left her with no desire to sit around and take messages for him.

Soon afterwards, she pulled up at a nearby nature park. Walking helped clear her mind and today she really needed to think things out. She opened the back of her car and let Jade out. Leaves on newly foliaged trees glistened in the watery sunlight and a thrush pierced the still air with its call to neighbouring birds. She glanced along the path on the other side of a gate where, in the distance, she could see the castle—a Victorian folly. She called Jade to her side and set off.