Living with Shadows (34 page)

s o r r y

so until if there is a next time for me

it was really nice knowing you

so take it easy all the best

your friend

Mac

Michael had kept his word and resisted the temptation to write about his sexual fantasies. The incidents he had chosen to tell her instead made no better reading and Kate was again fearful that she was trespassing into dangerous territory. Though she had kept trying to deny it, she was ready to admit that even before Michael committed murder he was probably already a very disturbed young man. Recently, Kate had seen a T.V. documentary concerning children who killed or were cruel to animals. There was evidence to show that such children often went on to commit murder later in life. These children had usually suffered from violence or had been raised in a dysfunctional family. Kate thought it understandable that someone from a violent background might want to take their anger and frustration out on a weaker being than themselves. Again, she considered the question of nature versus nurture along with the idea that violence breeds violence
.
Kate strongly believed that the formative years in a child’s life shaped the person they would become in adulthood. The witnessing of abominable acts of violence or anti-social behaviour at an early age must surely have an adverse effect on an unformed mind.

Once again, Kate was concerned that maybe it was doing more harm than good for Michael to be dredging up these sad childhood memories, especially since it was a one-way exercise. She did not have the time or training to deal with this. The thing that troubled her most was that each of these recalled events must impact on how he felt about himself. Consequently, if these were mostly negative, they would hardly do anything to help his depression or self-esteem.

One incident in particular had stirred up an unpleasant memory in her. It was the account of having to take his dog somewhere and lose it. Kate’s family had owned a little black dog called Rex. He was a giddy thing, impossible to train. Sometimes he’d run off for days at a stretch, probably after a bitch. But that didn’t matter. Kate’s mother expected more loyalty from him. She finally lost patience with it and told Kate to take him to the fire station and have him put down. It was a three mile bus journey both ways and the first time she took him the place was closed. She hoped this would win Rex a reprieve but the following week, having checked up on the opening times, they were back again. She walked into a bare room except for a couple of chairs and what looked like a big chest freezer. She sat and waited for someone to come, praying no one would. Curiosity got the better of her and she walked over to the chest and lifted the lid. In the bottom was a dead dog. A lethal collar and chain around its neck, the other end attached to the chest, was evidence that it had been electrocuted. She slammed the lid shut, went back to her wooden chair and cried. Rex leapt up and licked the tears from her face. His affection only increased her pain knowing she’d brought him there to die. She wanted to pick him up and get as far away from that hateful place as possible but knew she couldn’t take him back home, nor could she have abandoned him in the busy town. Before she had time to find a solution, a man appeared and she knew Rex’s fate was sealed.

Between sobs she managed to ask if it would hurt and he assured her that Rex wouldn’t feel a thing; he’d just go to sleep. She kissed her beloved pet, gave him over to the man and ran out to catch the bus home. Seeing how upset she was, the driver asked if she was all right. How could she tell him she had just taken her dog to be killed? She couldn’t. Instead, she ignored him and hurried away to find a seat.

For a while, her feelings for her mother were not dissimilar from Michael’s for his.

The prospect of seeing his daughter again took away some of the irritation brought about by Helen’s bizarre actions. Her decision to pay off her ex-husband was bewildering to say the least. As far as he could see, Carl was a coward and a brute. No self-respecting man could do what he had done. And despite what Helen might think, there was every chance he would come back again and again. She had tried to make excuses for him, for his failed business and mounting debts and the fact that she was successful while he had fallen on hard times. So why was that her problem? When he’d challenged her about it, she had become defensive, told him she knew what she was doing. Some days later, after she had handed over the money, it was as though none of it had ever happened. She seemed her old self again, as carefree and happy as someone who had come into a fortune rather than given one away. And then she surprised him with a present, a solid gold watch. Helen gave him the small parcel and waited eagerly for his reaction like a child handing a bunch of freshly picked wild flowers to her mother. ‘Because you make me happier than I’ve been in years,’ was all she said, putting her finger on his lips to stop his remonstrations at her needless generosity.

At home, all Kate talked about was Michael or Ben. He could not understand why she gave so much thought to either one of them. Michael’s situation was completely beyond her control and Ben’s was not so different except that he had more opportunity to exploit Kate’s altruistic nature. It was partly to do with her obsessive resolve in continuing to believe that her input might make a difference that helped change his mind about ending his relationship with Helen. The other reason was that his feelings for her had now overshadowed his sense of guilt. He had no idea where it would lead but it didn’t really matter. The thought of making love to Helen, drinking coffee together, chatting, just being near her was more exciting than anything he could think of, anything apart from this imminent reunion with his daughter.

Angela had been cagey when he rang and asked after Sharon but when he spoke of his determination to find his daughter she felt it only right she should help put him in touch with her. And now he was within a few miles of her home.

Jim kept glancing at the map as he drove. All he had to do was negotiate his way through the town, exit onto the right B road and follow it for half a mile or so before arriving at Lovell Gardens. He recalled their brief conversation over the telephone, the stunned silence when he told her who he was and then her stuttering response—yes, she did want to see him. It seemed to him making that telephone call was the strangest thing he had ever done in his life.

As he pulled up outside the house, he caught sight of someone briefly through the window. By the time he was walking down the path the door had opened and a slim, young woman came out to meet him. They stared hard at each other as if looking for a sign that they were indeed related. Sharon yielded to Jim’s open arms at once, negating all uncertainty.

The initial awkwardness of their reunion was soon overcome as they stripped away the years with everything they could remember to tell each other about their lives. The first sign of unease showed when they reached the present. Jim thought of Helen, the one part of his life story he was not about to share with anyone, least of all his daughter. In Sharon’s case, it seemed her taboo subject was her mother. She hadn’t once mentioned her name. But that was no bad thing, he thought.

‘Would you like to hold her, Dad?’ Sharon picked Louise out of her crib and passed her over.

Jim felt a rush of pride as he took the baby into his arms. Sharon had just called him dad and he was cradling his granddaughter. ‘She’s beautiful, just like her mother.’ He looked up and searched her features for the blonde five year old and once again found his very own daughter. She was right not to have mentioned her mother. It would only remind him of all the lost years. Nothing should spoil this moment.

Finding his daughter again had made Jim more understanding towards Ben and his drug addiction just as Kate had hoped it would. Since Matt’s death, he had believed that anyone addicted to drugs was destined for ruination, and not only their own. Matt’s family had been left bewildered as to how it could have happened to their child. How could someone as popular and handsome as Matt, with everything to live for, have succumbed to the evil of drug abuse? Jim now realised that drugs had been Matt’s weakness, something he could not control. How people behave isn’t just about brains, good looks, personality; they’re far more complex than that. It’s just that when someone has all of these qualities, it’s difficult to understand how they could mess up their life. Though he now appeared to be more willing to accept Ben’s problem, Jim had left Kate with no illusions about the power of addiction. It turned decent people into liars and thieves with no regard for who they deceived.

So far, staying at Sam’s had been the best option. Had he stayed with them, Kate knew she would have been checking up on him the whole time, making sure he was eating properly, not drinking too much, but checking up most of all on the drugs. Aside from the constant worry, there would doubtless have been friction between her and Jim.

Sam had encouraged Ben to get help. It wasn’t really an option if he was to stay with her and Alex, but he had anyway. He’d booked himself into a rehabilitation centre. Although he hadn’t found work yet, Sam was keeping him busy with odd jobs around her home. No one got a free ride out of Sam. These arrangements seemed to be working and, as far as anyone knew, there had been no lapses.

Kate’s only real concern now was Michael. She still hadn’t managed to stop him writing to her as though she was his girlfriend and he’d made it clear he didn’t want to write to anyone on the outside. The reason she hadn’t asked him not to write to her any more was that she believed he needed some distraction from his darker thoughts, thoughts she knew were never far from his mind.

She had hoped to have found some support from his case conference but soon realised the unlikelihood of that. When she learned he’d been storing his tablets
she
knew he was still looking for an opportunity to kill himself. But she was sure
they
weren’t convinced it was anything more than a cry for help. If only he’d given her permission to tell them how he was feeling. Instead, she had sat there, mute as a Trappist Monk, guarding his secrets.

Sometimes it was as though she was the keystone to his mortality, but its foundation was very shaky. Her vow of silence concerning anything he told her was weighing her down.

Only the other day in class he’d complained about someone breaking a confidence. He was seeing a counsellor who he claimed had repeated something he’d told her. Another prisoner, the closest to a friend he had in there, had mentioned it to him. Michael said it could only have come from the counsellor. Whether it was fact or just a coincidence didn’t matter to Mac. He was angry and swore he wouldn’t tell her another thing. No one got a second chance with Michael.

Then there was the young female psychologist. At the first session they’d had a disagreement. According to Michael, she had got annoyed with him and so he decided not to have any further sessions with her. She’d written a report about him and had given it him to read. He said he never finished it because it was a load of rubbish. “How can anyone make a proper judgement about someone after one brief meeting?” he’d said. Besides, she was younger than he was so what did she know about life?