Strangers (27 page)

Kate stepped out of the car onto the gravel drive.
As she moved toward the front door, she heard Charlie come up behind her.

“Shall I ring the bell or do you have a key?”

He pressed the bell.

Kate wasn’t sure what to expect.
She had no idea why Charlie had brought her.
As he crushed her fingers in his grip, it was all Kate could do not to pull away.
The door opened and she found herself facing a woman she presumed was Charlie’s mother.

Jill Storm was small, thin and pale.
She wore a shapeless cream sweater and a calf-length navy skirt.
Gray roots showed in her hair and she seemed shrunken, as though something had sucked the life from her.
Kate watched her eyes as she looked at Charlie.
They came alive for a moment before the light disappeared again.

“Hello, Mum.” Charlie released Kate’s hand and stepped forward.

He slowly moved his arms up and around his mother, hugging her to his chest.
The embrace was short-lived.
His mother ended it, pulling away and turning to Kate.

“And who’s this?”

“Mum, this is Kate Snow.
Kate, this is my mum, Jill,” Charlie said.

Kate reached out to shake her hand.
It felt thin and frail like a bird’s wing.

“You’d better come in,” his mother said.

Charlie’s father stood in the hall, a tall version of Charlie’s mother, thin and white-faced with salt-and-pepper hair.
He stared at Kate so intently, she found herself taking a step backward.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Charlie.”

Kate watched them embrace.
His father’s arms wrapped around Charlie, hugged him tight.
This time Charlie let go first.

“This is Kate.
She’s my friend and she knows about everything.”

“More than we do then, Charlie,” his mother said.

An awkward silence descended.
Kate could feel all three of them struggling for the right thing to say.

“What do you want?” Jill asked.

“To talk,” Charlie mumbled.

“You better come into the conservatory.”

It was a smart house, Kate thought, a tightly controlled house.
Everything neat and tidy, no sign of dust, the carpet recently vacuumed and his mother hadn’t even known they’d be coming.
Kate imagined her always prepared.
Everything ordered in her life, but it hadn’t been enough to save her youngest son.

Charlie kept hold of Kate’s hand as they walked into a glass-roofed conservatory full of large leafy plants and spiky cacti.
He pulled her onto a two-seater brown wicker sofa, while his parents sat facing them in matching chairs.
No one spoke.

Paul cleared his throat.
“Five months and three days, Charlie.”

“Sorry.
I’ve been busy,” Charlie said.

“Do you see much of your mother and father, Kate?” Paul asked.

“Kate’s parents died when she was seven,” Charlie said.
“She spent her childhood in the care of the local authority.
No one wanted her.
She thinks I’m lucky because I was adopted.”

Kate watched in discomfort as his parents cast stricken glances at each other.

“I
was
lucky,” Charlie said.

Kate squeezed his fingers.

“I…er…I…” He shook his head.
“How can this be so hard, when I’m supposed to be a master with words?”

Kate knew why.
He was looking for his
own
words, not ones given to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Mum,” he said, “but I want to know who I am.”

His mother’s lower lip quivered.

“I want to know why I’m me.” Charlie pressed on.
“Who made me?
Whose hair do I have?
Whose eyes?
Is my birth father tall?
Is my birth mother tall?
Are they crap at math too?
Why is music in my heart?
Why don’t I like milk?
Why did they give me up?”

His mother was so pale and still, she looked as though she’d died.

“We made you, Charlie,” his father said.
“We love music.
Your mother plays the violin.
I play the saxophone.
I’m crap at math.
It doesn’t matter that your birth parents gave you up, because we wanted you.
We made you.”

Charlie started to bite his nail and dragged his hand from his mouth.

“I know you wanted me.
I’m grateful for all you’ve done.
You’re my mum and dad and you always will be.
I love you, but this is something I have to do.
I’ve been in touch with the placement agency.
They’ve traced my birth mother.
I wanted you to know in case the press find out and make a meal of it.”

“
When
the press find out,” Paul said.

“Have you been in touch with her?” Jill asked in a quiet voice.

“No.”

“She didn’t want you, Charlie.
She never tried to get in touch with you or find out how you were doing.” Her fingers dug into the cushion at her side.
“She’s not the one who cuddled you when you had nightmares.
Where was she when you broke your leg?” Her voice grew more shrill.
“She didn’t hear you sing in Westminster Cathedral.
She—”

“I know,” Charlie said.

“She left you in a supermarket trolley outside Woolworth’s.” Jill’s voice snapped like a dry twig.
“She didn’t even leave you somewhere safe and warm.
That’s how much she cared about you.”

Charlie was trembling.

“We wanted you and gave you a home.
We protected you and trusted you.
Michael trusted you.” His mother let out a single sob from somewhere deep inside her.

Kate clung to Charlie’s hand as he lurched.
The air in the conservatory, already thick and heavy, became difficult to breathe.
Kate watched the drama unfold with increasing anxiety, wanting to drag Charlie out of there and run away.

“You’ve not been back since Michael died and now you come to tell us you’re going to look for your real parents because we’re not good enough anymore.” His mother shuddered.
“I’m sorry I’m not the mother you wanted, but do you think your real mother will love you better?”

“You
are
my real mother,” Charlie said.
“It’s not—”

“You know what day it is, Charlie?
You pick today of all days to do this?” Jill began to cry.

Charlie paled.
He let go of Kate to reach toward his mother and then pulled back.

“God, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for everything.
I’m sorry I haven’t been back.
Sorry I let you hurt on your own.”

Paul took his wife’s hand and patted it.
Kate’s fingers crept back to Charlie’s and he clung to her as if he were about to go over a waterfall.

“Michael never took drugs.
Why did he take them that night?” Jill asked.
“What happened?
We need the truth now, Charlie.”

The two faces staring at him looked like shadows, frail gray wraiths, barely alive because when their son died, part of them died too.

“I told you what happened.
I told the police.
I’ve spent the last five months trying to forget.
The papers made me look like a hero and I wasn’t.
A hero would have saved Michael.”

“We know you tried, son,” his father said.
He glanced at his wife.
“We need to hear again what happened.”

Charlie deflated as though the air had been sucked out of him.

“Michael started the night in a good mood, buying everyone drinks, larking about.
He wanted people to like him and the silly bugger thought they didn’t.
He preferred to go out with me because there was always a crowd of hangers-on.
He thought it was because they liked me but they were moths around a light.
They couldn’t help themselves.
They thought I was something I wasn’t.”

Charlie glanced at Kate and then turned back to face his parents.

“Michael fancied one of the girls at our table and they flirted a bit.
The truth is she probably thought she could use him to get at me.”

“You gave him drugs to share with her,” Jill said.

Charlie’s voice was firm.
“No, I didn’t.”

“Michael didn’t take drugs,” Jill said in a whisper, shaking her head.
“It’s you that takes drugs.
Michael wouldn’t.
Not my Michael.”

Jill wrapped her arms around herself and rocked.
Kate felt the change in Charlie and knew what he was going to do.

“You’re right.
I gave him some coke to share with her.”

His mother went so white, Kate thought she would pass out.
Charlie squeezed Kate’s fingers but didn’t look at her.

“I told him he could take my car and pretend he owned it.
He’d only had a pint.
After that he’d stuck to Red Bull.
He wasn’t drunk.” Charlie’s head dropped.
“He drove off with the girl and we heard the crash from inside the pub.”

His voice broke.
Kate saw a tear roll down his cheek.

“Was he conscious when you got there?” his father asked.

“No.”

“But you pulled the girl out.” Jill’s chest heaved as she took gasping breaths.

“Michael’s door was caved in.
I did everything I could to get him out, but…his feet…his feet were trapped.
I stayed with him as long as I could and then the fire…” Charlie’s voice faltered, tapered to a soft whisper.
“There was nothing I could do.
I wanted to get him out.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.”

Tears rolled down Jill’s face.
Her head swayed from side to side, strange whimpering noises coming from her mouth.

“You told the police the drugs were Michael’s,” Paul said.

That was what Charlie had told Kate, too.
He was lying now to try to help his mother, but Kate thought it was a mistake.

“Mine.” Charlie stared at his father.

“You also told them Michael took the car without your permission,” Paul said.

“I gave him the keys.”

Kate shook her head.
This was wrong.

“You blackened the name of your brother to keep your own name clean,” his mother said.
“I suppose you thought if Michael was dead, it didn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered.

Kate didn’t believe this.
Charlie was lying, trying to protect his parents from the truth about the son they’d lost.
Almost as though he knew what she was thinking, he glanced at her and squeezed her fingers, his eyes saying “keep quiet”.

“So why are you here telling us this today?
Trying to impress your latest air-head floozy with your honesty and bravery?” Jill asked.

“Kate’s not—”

“Is that it?” Jill asked, brushing the tears from her cheeks.
“That’s what you’ve come here for, to tell us you lied about Michael and you want to find your real parents?
And you weren’t even brave enough to do it on your own.
Well, thank you very much, Charlie.
You can go now.
There’s nothing more to be said.”

For a moment no one spoke.
Kate looked between the three of them and something snapped.

“What
is
this?” she asked.
“What’s going on here?”

“This has nothing to do with you,” Jill said.

“I’m here with Charlie, so it does.
You lost a son and that’s terrible.
I can’t even begin to imagine what that must be like, the pain you’re going through, but you have another son and he’s sitting here in front of you.
He’s hurting and you’re acting like he’s a stranger.”

Paul and Jill looked at one another.

“I care more for Charlie than you do.” Kate swallowed hard.
“How can that be?
You’re his parents.
He’s told you he’s sorry.
He wasn’t driving the car.
Michael was.
Michael didn’t have to take the drugs, he didn’t have to take the car.
Charlie didn’t force them on him.
He tried to save him and couldn’t.
Don’t you understand what that’s like for him?
Charlie blames himself enough without having you blame him too.”

When Kate finished speaking, there was silence.
His father looked down at the tiled floor.
Charlie was sniffing.
His mother stood up.

“It should have been you,” Jill said.

“No!” Kate gasped.

“Jill, don’t.” Paul tried to pull her down, but she shrugged him away.

“You should have been the one to die, not Michael.
You were the reckless one, not him.
He didn’t deserve what happened.
He had so much to live for, so much left to achieve.
He could have done anything, been anyone.
He worked hard and you waltzed through life, not caring about anyone but yourself.” She spat the words out and Charlie flinched at every one.

“You lounged around, playing your guitar, pretending to be a pop star while Michael spent hours practicing, trying to keep up with you.
You passed every piano exam with distinction yet made no effort.
Michael wanted one distinction, just one, but he never got it.” Jill dropped back, gulping in air.

“That’s enough, Jill,” her husband said.

Charlie sat frozen.
He wasn’t even holding Kate’s hand anymore.
Her fingers were wrapped around his but they were limp and unresponsive.

“Michael’s never going to have any more birthdays.
He’s never going to come here and introduce us to his girlfriend, tell us he’s engaged or getting married or going to be a father.” Jill was almost shouting.
“There are never going to be any of those moments for us.
We’ll never hold his grandchildren in our arms.
And it’s your fault, Charlie.
Why did you give him drugs?
Why did you let him take your car?”

Kate sprang to her feet but Charlie stepped in front of her.

“I didn’t,” he snapped.
“I lied.
I sat here looking at two people who’ve given me a comfortable home, a good education and the best love they could and I felt how much I owed you and knew it was time to repay a little of that debt.
And I am grateful, I am.
I’m sorry.
I thought I could make you happy if you thought Michael wasn’t to blame, but I can’t, can I?
No matter what I say, you’ll always blame me, because I couldn’t get him out of the fucking car.”

They were all on their feet now, Paul holding Jill, Kate behind Charlie.

“The cocaine
was
Michael’s.
He bought it because he was trying to entice a girl away from me.
He took the car without me knowing.
He lifted the keys from my pocket.
He was never satisfied with what he had.
He was a kind, funny guy, but he always felt second best because he wasn’t like me.”

Kate tugged his arm, but knew she couldn’t stop this.

“You could have made him feel special, but you didn’t.
When he complained about his ears sticking out, you agreed with him and fixed them.
You fixed his teeth and there was nothing wrong with them.”