Rise and Fall (20 page)

Louise crept across the vast landing and gently pushed open Tyler’s door. The last thing she wanted to do was alarm him by bursting in while he was crying, and she didn’t fancy waking anyone else up either.

She strained her eyes to see through the darkness. She assumed that Tyler had heard her come in as the crying she had heard for the past half an hour had stopped the second she opened the door.

“Tyler? Are you okay love?” Louise whispered in the direction of the bed.

“I’m fine, Louise.” Tyler’s voice sounded muffled, as if he had buried himself under the covers, and stilted. He was embarrassed, after all. Louise’s heart went out to him. 

“Do you fancy coming downstairs, Ty? We could have a sneaky hot chocolate. I can’t sleep either.” Louise thought that she would try a different approach so that Tyler wouldn’t feel humiliated by her finding him in this state, and if she made out it was her who couldn’t sleep, he would feel like he was doing her a favour by joining her. The past week that Louise had stayed here she had taken a real liking to Tyler. From all the conversations that Louise had had with him, he seemed like a sweet kid, there was something vulnerable about him that made her want to look after him like a big sister would. 

“No, I’m okay, thanks. Go back to bed, Louise.” 

But Louise had had enough of tip-toeing around the situation. She wasn’t going anywhere until she knew the poor kid was okay. She felt that she knew exactly what he was going through; she needed to let him to realise that he wasn’t alone. Sometimes just knowing that someone had your back was all it took. She was here now; they were both wide awake; she was going to take the opportunity to have a little chat with Tyler. Reagan would understand that she wasn’t snooping; she genuinely cared. Switching on the light, Louise’s concerned expression turned to one of horror, as she realised Tyler wasn’t alone in his bed. She stared, dumbstruck, at the scene in front of her.

“What the f..?” Louise didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. 

“Get out of here.” Jerell yanked the bed covers over him, but not before Louise had seen his naked body and Tyler’s small and equally naked one beneath it. 

Jerell glared at Louise, fuming that she had caught him. He should never have let the silly bitch stay over; she was too nosey for her own good.

Tyler had tears streaming down his cheeks, and his face was flushed; he didn’t meet Louise’s gaze. She looked from the distraught boy, straight into the evil face of Jerell. She just stood like a statue, unable to know what to say or do.

“I said get the fuck out of here, Louise,” Jerell threatened.

Stepping back clumsily, Louise left the room, tears stinging her eyes from what she had witnessed.

The commotion had woken Reagan. Seeing Louise rush back into the room, he was aware something bad had happened.

“Babe, what’s going on?” Reagan turned the bedside lamp on and got out of bed. Taking his girlfriend in his arms, he had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming.

“It’s Jerell.” Her voice was shaking, tears running down her cheeks. “He’s in there, with Tyler.” She nodded in the direction of Tyler’s bedroom, unable to put what she had seen into words. Oh my god, poor Tyler, she thought, as Reagan held her tightly, trying to calm her. It was no wonder the kid spent his nights crying. Louise felt bile in the back of her throat at the thought of what Jerell had been doing.

Reagan didn’t know what to say. He knew that if Louise had seen Jerell with Tyler, she was going to be in trouble. Reagan knew what the man was capable of, and there was no way that he would let her leave the house knowing what she now knew. He would want to ensure that she kept her mouth firmly shut.

Reagan had to get her out of the house. Gathering up her clothes from the floor, he thrust them into Louise’s arms. “You need to get out of here. Now, Louise, right now,” he ordered, imagining that they only had a few seconds before Jerell would be storming through the door. Reagan couldn’t envisage him being lenient about Louise knowing what he did with underage boys. There was no way that he would trust her not to talk, and God knows what lengths he would go to, to preserve her silence.

Louise could tell by Reagan’s urgent tone that she should do what he said; the panic in his eyes told her that the danger was real. There was no time to waste. 

Grabbing the rest of her stuff, she ran out of the room and down the stairs. She was on the bottom step when she heard Tyler’s bedroom door open. Louise had no intention of waiting around to see what he was going to do to her now that she knew his secret. Her hands shook violently as she tried to reach up and undo the bolt securing the front door. 

“Where is she?” Jerell sounded livid, and Louise was petrified at what he would do to her. She glanced up the stairs to the landing, checking that Jerell wasn’t on his way down to her. She was a jabbering mess and it felt like time had slowed down. The more she panicked, the more everything seemed to move in slow motion. Finally, she managed to undo the security chain. As she pulled open the heavy front door, she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. She didn’t look back; she couldn’t get out of there quick enough. 

She realised, as she ran down the street, trying to keep hold of her clothes and bag, that she was still wearing Reagan’s dressing gown. It was the middle of the night, so there was no-one else around. But even if it had been broad daylight she wouldn’t have cared, she would have ran out of there completely naked if it had meant that she had been able to escape from the disgusting Jerell.

“You ain’t changed much, have you, Mum?” Jamie couldn’t muster up an ounce of sympathy for the wreck of a woman sprawled on the floor in front of him. He guessed that she must have finally got herself a fella, and judging by the state of her, she had pushed whoever the poor mug was, way over the edge. The familiar feeling of revulsion flowed through him as he looked at her. 

“That’s fucking charming, Jamie, that is. I’m lying ‘ere, just had the bleeding crap beaten out of me, and you don’t even help me up.” Maura glared back at him in defiance, pulling herself forward as she struggled to sit up. She winced at the sharp pain in her foot, the agony almost taking her breath away, although there was no way she would show it: not to him.

Jamie unzipped his hoodie and threw it to her; the hideous sight of his mother sitting there almost naked in front of him, with everything hanging out, was making him want to be sick.

Maura draped the top over her shoulders and pulled the zip up. She felt less vulnerable having covered her breasts, it was hardly dignified to come to on the lounge floor, battered and naked to the sight of her long-lost son sitting there looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. She saw Jamie turning his nose up as he watched her, his lips curling nastily, and she could see the hate that he felt for her still, even after all these years, festering there in his cold stare. The little freckle-faced boy with the fiery temper had finally returned. The familiarity of him sitting here in the room made it feel as though the years they had been separated hadn’t taken place. He had turned out to be a good-looking little sod, she thought. She remembered vaguely that his father had been tall and handsome too, with the same steely eyes that Jamie had also inherited. Maura was blonde, but not the sort of attractive blonde that people went to the hairdressers and paid good money. Hers was a mousy, dull kind of blonde, and most of the time her hair was so greasy she could have fried chips in it. 

She hadn’t seen Jamie for ten years, and she wondered, if she thought he looked different, what he must be thinking about her. The years hadn’t been good to her; she was under no illusions about that. She had put on weight; three dress sizes, she calculated. Her skin was old and tired-looking, she was wrinkled and saggy, and of course having just had the shit kicked out of her probably hadn't helped her in the looks department. This was not the ideal reunion. She knew that she must look a right state, and she could imagine what Jamie was thinking when he looked at her, she could see it in his eyes even now, his expression that signified he thought he was above all of this, and more significantly like he was above her, just like he always had.

“You got a fucking cheek, sitting there looking down your nose at me, boy,” Maura scolded as she returned his glare, in defiance. 

Maura had not expected to set eyes on Jamie again. He had no right to sit there judging and condemning. He knew nothing about her anymore; he had no idea how difficult her life was. He had just swanned off after reading her the riot act about her parenting and seemingly hadn’t so much as given her a second thought since. He hadn’t given two shits about his three siblings, either. He was a selfish little bastard.

Jamie’s eyes bore into hers, she felt like he could almost see into her soul.

“Why the fuck are you here, Jamie?” she asked. “How did you get in? If I remember rightly you packed your bags and fucked off a long time ago. You left me and the kids to rot. So why the fuck have you come back now?” 

Maura reached for a cigarette from the table beside her, her hands trembling as she picked up the lighter. She fought to stop her body shaking; there was no way that she was going to give Jamie the satisfaction of seeing her suffering any more than he had. She lit it and welcomed the deep breath of smoke as she inhaled it down into her lungs. She held it in for a few seconds before blowing it back out. Instantly calmer, she wondered if she could get her hands on a bottle of vodka for pain relief. Seeing how swollen and awkwardly twisted her ankle looked, she knew that she needed a trip to A and E, it was without doubt broken.

“Where’s Kevin?” Jamie asked, as he watched his pathetic excuse of a mother puff away on her cigarette as if her life depended on it. She was the same as ever, albeit fatter and older. She looked ragged and worn out, old beyond her years. The blood and the bruises probably added to her already dishevelled appearance. One thing was for certain, she was still a fucking mess. Jamie reckoned if he had seen her sitting on a park bench down at Larkhall Park, she wouldn’t look out of place against all the alcoholics that hung out down there, pissing their lives away.

“Kevin? Is that all you care about, that little bastard?” Maura laughed in disbelief. Jamie could pretend he was interested in his brother, but he had walked out on him too.

“Well, I didn’t come back here for you, did I?” Jamie said sarcastically.

“Well, he ain’t here no more, is he,” Maura said. She stubbed out her fag in the ashtray. She thought about getting up, but even sitting she felt dizzy: if she stumbled over on her arse, he would have a right bloody laugh at her expense. Lighting another fag, she decided to stay put. 

She wanted to know why Jamie had come back for the boy and why he had done it today. First Jerell wanted the kid and now Jamie.

“I don’t know why you’re so interested in finding him. After you fucked off and left us, we never mentioned your name again. He don’t even know he’s got a brother,” Maura said, rubbing in the fact that Jamie meant nothing to her youngest son: the boy didn’t even know he existed. 

Jamie couldn’t believe it; how could she keep something like that from her own kid, just because she was pissed off with him leaving.

“Oh, and your beloved brother ain’t called Kevin anymore, either.” Maura was enjoying shocking Jamie now she had got started. “He goes by the name of Tyler; he says Kevin’s a gay name. Gay? Imagine that. I give him a good old-fashioned proper name and he goes and changes it because he thinks it’s gay. Tyler… what sort of a name’s that? Mind you, I guess it could be a lot worse, some of those kids in that gang he’s got himself involved with have got the most stupid names I’ve ever heard. They think they're real gangsters, those boys do. One of them’s half the size of Tyler and calls himself Psycho. Psycho! Can you believe it? The stupid bloody kid probably can’t even spell the word.”

Listening to his mother, it was like the past ten years had never happened. Nothing had changed; once she got started with her rants and her opinions, she couldn’t seem to stop. Jamie let her carry on. She would tell him everything that he needed to know and he would barely have to endure a two-way conversation with the manky old cow.

“He’s only gone and got himself in with some right bloody head-case now though! He blooming went and brought the fucking nutcase to this place. I did nothing but put myself out for the pair of them, gave that big black bastard a roof over his head for the last two weeks and look where it got me, the fucker wiped the floor with me today, and what did I do to deserve that huh?” She grimaced, trying to block out the pain that shot through her foot as she spoke.

Jamie sat up, alert. Was she talking about Jerell? 

“He told me he was taking Tyler with him... fucking told me. I’m only the boy’s mother, ain’t I? But no, apparently I don’t get a say. Cheeky fucker hasn’t even left me the money he promised for taking him.” She regretted her last words as Jamie’s body language changed as he shifted forward in his chair; she wished she had kept her mouth shut.

“What money ‘for taking him’?” Jamie hoped to God that she wasn’t implying what he thought she was.

She decided that there was no point in lying to the boy; she might as well come clean. Besides, he could sit there looking down at her, all high and mighty, but this was none of his business. He could shove his opinions, as far as she was concerned: he had lost his right to have a say in what she did, in what any of them did, when he walked out and turned his back on them all.

“You haven’t even bothered to ask about your sisters,” she said, deliberately hoping to change the subject. “They both buggered of an’ all. Pair of moody cows; barely get a phone call from either of them these days. As soon as they both managed to get themselves fellas, they fucked off out of here. It’s like I don’t bleeding exist, and after all I’ve done for the bleeding lot of ya.” 

His mother's babbling didn't fool Jamie. He couldn’t give a shit about his sisters, they were cut from the same cloth as she was, but if they had both managed to get away from her then good – there might be some hope for them. Bringing the conversation back to the subject, Jamie said: “What was the money for?”