Submersion (37 page)

I nodded.

‘He was in one, for a while. Had lived there for some years as a stranger, a nobody. You see, not only was he lost to me, but he was lost to himself, too. On the inside.’

My great-aunt tapped the right side of her head for effect.

‘They were difficult times, Billy. For everyone, but… As all our resources became scarcer still, these homes began to close down, and the authorities had to find new places for their residents. Their
patients
, they claimed, not that anyone was being treated. So, after years of not caring about who these people were or where they came from, the authorities spent some time and money on finally finding out. That’s how we got reunited. It took a while. Ethan only had his memories of us up to a ten year-old and many of those had faded. So, these weren’t enough in themselves. But we had gone looking again, too, and had an anonymous tip-off as to where he might be staying. And, as luck would have it, we found him.’

She paused, caught in her memories, taking her time, allowing them to become clearer.

‘I still see all those beds, lined up, one after the after, in a long thin room. Like something from an old book. Like something from a war. Bed after bed after bed. It was dirty. They called it a hospital, but it was filthy dirty and no one was getting better. No one was being treated for anything. You know what haunts me?’

I shook my head. I wanted to say
yes,
because surely it was obvious. But nothing had been obvious so far, so I refrained.

‘The faces of all the boys – men, by then – all the boys we left behind. As we were taken along the ward to Ethan’s bed, they all thought, they all hoped that we were coming for them. But no, we just came for him. Our broken boy. My one half of a pair.’

Great-Aunt Penny inhaled a long, slow breath, gathering her own thoughts, I guessed. Trying to recall how far she had gone – what had been told so far, what was left?

‘I suppose you want to know where Joshua is? What happened to him?’ she asked, cutting her rumination short.

I nodded slowly – yes, I did, but I didn’t want to seem overenthusiastic.

‘Wish I knew, Billy. Wish I knew. He could be alive, out there somewhere, or he could be dead. We’ve looked. We went back to the ho-.’ She paused, tears piercing through her eyes again, blurring her vision, puffing her skin. But she seemed determined to continue. ‘Went to the hospital where Ethan had been, but there was nothing. Checked their records, asked about other hospitals. They were eager to help – there was a lot of guilt for those involved, but they were also eager to give all these damaged people back. But we found nothing. No trace of Joshua at all. Ethan had seen him, once, he told us, years ago, he reckoned, but.’ Another pause – a distraction, like earlier, sending her off course, sending her into a numb oblivion.

‘Aunt?’ I questioned, trying to draw her back.

She smiled, dryly, bravely.

‘All I know is he is still gone, Billy. Still lost. Ethan too, now,’ she finished, not meaning to apportion blame, not meaning to imply
because of you,
but it was there. And it remained between us, invisible, silent, but present. ‘I think I’ll make some warm milk,’ she eventually said, standing again. ‘Might help you sleep.’

Then, my great-aunt left the room, pulling the door to on the guest room. I heard her further down the hall, in her kitchen. If she did heat up some milk – part of me doubted she even had any – she never bought it back to me.

And, as promised, we never spoke of Joshua or Ethan again.

I was in and out of consciousness for several days – over a week, I found out later. A fever set in and my glands swelled up like balloons, according to Mother. I don’t remember anything clearly enough. I recall faces – Great-Aunt Penny’s, Great-Uncle Jimmy’s, Mother’s, too. My memory has an imprint of cold flannels on my skin and hot, bland soup passing my lips. But I don’t remember moving. Don’t remember leaving
North Courts
and plummeting to the waterlogged ground in that stinky, metal lift. Don’t recall the ride home in the boat. Have no memory of being lifted back up three flights of stairs to my little attic room.

So, I missed some of the drama.

I missed what happened to Grandad Ronan.

I just woke up to the sound of torrential rain, battering at the roof of our house, demanding to be let in. My room was suffering the very worst of it, being at the apex of the house. Opening my eyes, I found Mother beside me, keeping vigil.

Seeing me awake, she excused herself for a moment and then brought me something to eat and drink. I smiled when I saw what it was – a single, soft boiled egg.

‘Uncle Jessie?’ I asked.

She shook her head, no not from him. He wasn’t back yet, her look told me.

‘Uncle Jimmy,’ she said.

Mother sat on the edge of my bed. She allowed me to eat my egg, which was accompanied by some toast and a hot cup of weak tea, remaining still and quiet. Then, when I had finished, she took the china from me and placed it on the floor.

This signalled she wanted to talk. So, I guess I was well enough to cope with the scolding I deserved – for truanting, for stealing, for breaking into the old shop and letting my mad cousin out of the attic. But that wasn’t what happened. That wasn’t what she had come to say at all.

‘Billy, it’s time we had a good talk,’ she began, her voice softer than usual, like Aunt Agnes’ and my heart raced with anticipation.

Then she expelled a string of the most unexpected words.

‘It’s time I explained about your father,’ she said.

14. Agnes

I had barely slept when Esther and Uncle Jimmy came battering at my front door, banging it hard enough to knock it from its frame. My conversation with Reuben had ended sometime after midnight and it had taken me a good hour to completely wind down from the day’s revelations.

I had two days away from the office before I was expected back. Two days that should have been an opportunity to recuperate – to collect my thoughts and consider exactly what I could or should do next. At the very least, I could have expected one full night of sleep, but it was not to be.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ I called, pulling on just the bottom half of my protective gear, not bothering with the mask. I knew who it was – as well as throttling the door, they had cried out loud enough to wake the whole street.

Opening the door, I noticed lights quickly switch off in houses across the road. The racket had been enough to rouse my neighbours – but now I’d answered the call, electricity was swiftly being saved again. No one came out to check if I was safe or that I knew who my rowdy callers were.

‘What on Earth..?’ I began, as Esther and Uncle Jimmy pushed past me, Esther storming ahead in a panic.

‘Ethan has gone missing,’ my uncle explained, rushing just ahead of me, but with less urgency than my sister.

‘Ethan?’

‘Yes, Ethan is missing!’

‘From the home?’ I questioned, following up, confused.

Esther met us both in the upstairs hall, shaking her head.

‘He’s not here,’ she confirmed, then glared at me, her eyes hot with accusation. ‘Why couldn’t you just answer the bloody phone? I’ve been frantic with worry! I thought he might have come here! I thought he might have-.’ She stopped herself, holding back tears – out of character for Esther, tears. And it had been a long time since I’d seen such irrational fury in her.

‘Why are you looking for Ethan here? Why would he be here? And why are you looking for him at all? If he’s missing, why aren’t the authorities out there looking? They must have people for this.’

A conspiratorial look was shared between my sister and uncle.

‘What don’t I know?’ I asked, with a sudden feeling that the sleep I craved – the rest my exhausted being sorely needed – wasn’t coming any time soon.

‘I need to get back, Uncle Jimmy. I need to check how Billy is doing.’

Another indication that I didn’t have the full picture.

‘What’s happened to Billy?’ I asked, and Esther rolled her eyes and flared her nostrils with more fiery allegation.

‘If you’d answered your bloody phone you’d know!’

I’d taken it off the hook after the fourth or fifth round of ceaseless ringing.

‘I needed you, Agnes!’ she continued, her blood-red anger giving way to something else. I heard
hurt
in her voice, fear, too. Raw fear. ‘My son’s been missing! He might die! Oh my god, he might die, Agnes!’

And, just like that, my stern, hardy sister melted away. Her collapse was so liquid that it took both my uncle and I to catch her and carry her to somewhere safe. We placed her on the small sofa in my kitchen area and I sat with her, whilst she sobbed.

Uncle Jimmy sat at the kitchen table, unknowingly mimicking Reuben from just hours before. Whilst Esther
got it out of herself –
a phrase I imagined our late mother would have used – Uncle Jimmy gave me the bare bones of what had occurred, of what had reduced my sibling so.

‘Ethan hasn’t been in any home. We lied to you. They’ve shut it down, Agnes. Shut them all down. Only taking in those who have no one at all to care for them. We thought they would help, after he attacked Ronan so viciously that time, but that simply served to strengthen their resolve. We were on our own. We kept it from you. Only Esther and Ronan were aware, aside from my Penny. We’ve been keeping him in the old shop. Locked up for his own good. He’s been a handful, but we’ve been coping.’

It was a lot to take in. My cousin Ethan was rarely mentioned; his missing twin, Joshua, never at all – lost forever after he was taken as a ten year-old. Ethan hadn’t been seen in a long time, either. Seven or eight years, by my quick calculation, and then only briefly. It was the one and only time I remember seeing him, being so young when he was originally taken.

I remember my aunt and uncle getting a call about him one day, fifteen years after his abduction – he’d been found and been kept in a hospital, to the north of the country. I remember they were gone for several days. It was a long journey and there were plenty of things to sort out. When they eventually returned, Esther had arranged a family get-together at hers, a spread of food on the table, best china out, everyone present. Mother had brought Ronan along, much to my sister’s aversion. Joe and Jessie were also there. I think we both expected our aunt and uncle to return with beaming smiles, and to greet our long-lost cousin with open arms and longing embraces. But it wasn’t like that at all.

When they first drew up outside in their car – a rusty old Hillman Avenger that
did the job
(Uncle Jimmy) - Aunt Penny got out of the car first and her solemn expression said it all. I had a four year-old Elinor in my arms and came forward, eager to meet my cousin and introduce him to the beautiful daughter I’d made, but my aunt signalled for me to retreat.

‘Let’s not overwhelm him,’ she’d said, and I read the pain in her features; there was to be no joy in this reunion.

‘Of course,’ I’d conceded, and that’s when I saw him: through the back seat window. Whilst I had little or no memory of him, I’d built one up through looking at photographs and hearing tales about him.

I smiled thinly at him, before retreating indoors. He smiled back, I recalled, but it was not a happy smile. It was a broken smile, a mad smile. Esther, holding an eighteen month-old Billy, followed my lead back indoors.

That was it. The first and the last I saw of Ethan.

I’m not entirely sure what happened next. A good deed attempted by Ronan that went wrong; well-meaning turned sour like milk left out on a hot day.
The stupidest thing,
Aunt Penny later referred to it, bitterly, as if Ronan had ruined the day, when in fact years of neglect and cruelty had seen to that by itself.

I know that Mother came out of the house, determined – nothing was going to stop her seeing her grandson, nothing. Ronan had followed on, bringing with him a cake Mother had made and decorated, especially for the homecoming. Brought it with him to entice Ethan out of the car, like a shy child. Brought the whole thing out on the board Mother had set it on. It was chocolate, I recall. It must have taken up all of her sugar, butter and cocoa rations. The only truly stupid thing that Ronan did was to leave a large knife on the board. It all happened very quickly, according to Jessie, who witnessed it. Mother approached the car, opening the rear door, with Ronan very close behind. Ethan had leapt out –
like a lightening flash
– grabbed the knife and made for Ronan in a maddened fury. Cut at his forearms, slashed at his abdomen, too. Slashed it open, so he collapsed, clutching at his insides to keep them from spilling away. Mother and Uncle Jimmy intervened, earned cuts for their efforts, but they managed to get the knife, get Ethan back in the car with the help of Joe, Jessie and neighbours, who were quick to come out and help. It was different times back then. Two ambulances came – one for Ronan and another for Ethan. I was led to believe that Ethan’s ambulance took him back to the special unit he came from.

Uncle Jimmy’s revelation that they’d been keeping him all this time at the old shop revealed this as a lie.

Something else that stuck in my mind that day. An old fear. Not for Ronan’s wellbeing, or my cousin’s, for that. I remember feeling an intense terror. Blood had been spilled on our streets. I hadn’t seen it, but Jessie’s description had been vivid. Blood had gushed from Ronan’s wound, red splashing on the pavement. Not that he’d meant to scare me – he’d just come out with it, still shocked by the event.

Would they sniff it out?
I’d asked him, having retreated with infant Elinor to my bedroom.
Would they smell the blood and come looking?
Would they smell my baby, is what I really meant, what I feared most.

No,
Jessie had reassured me, joining me on my bed, enveloping me and my daughter in his rough, warm embrace.
No, they won’t come looking for her. She’s safe with us.

And yet, he was wrong, wasn’t he? The dogs might not have come for her, but something else had. Eventually.

I brought myself back to the present. Esther had ceased crying, but was still breathing fast and deep, forcing herself to stay calm. Uncle Jimmy was still at the table.

‘What about Billy? You said he’d been missing? Is he alright now?’

‘We need to get back to him! Need to check he’s alright! Need to check Ethan’s not there, too!’

Suddenly Esther was full of life again, energised with passion and panic. Uncle Jimmy stood and touched her reassuringly.

‘Nothing we can do, love, but I’ll make a quick call to my Penny. Check on them both. And Ethan doesn’t know about North Courts, remember? He never lived there, so they’re quite safe.’

Whilst Uncle Jimmy made a quick telephone call to my aunt, Esther pulled herself together enough to recite a brief summary of the evening’s other drama.

‘Billy went to the old shop. Stole Uncle Jimmy’s spare keys. Got it in his head he’d find his father there. Or clues about him. I haven’t managed to get that much sense out of him. Don’t want to push it. He stole a boat, too.’

‘A boat?’ I managed, unsure of how to respond, as I took in all this new information.

‘From school,’ Esther confirmed, then her voice changed again, the dam she had built up against her emotions cracking, the flood washing over its fragile remains. ‘Oh, Agnes. He was so cold. Just standing there in the water. He’d lost his mask, too. Been exposed to all that pollution. Oh, Esther, what if he dies? He was so, so cold.’

When Uncle Jimmy returned with good news – yes, both were fine, the boy getting warmer, sleeping off his adventure – Esther was back in my embrace, her tears and mucus soaking me, her breathing jumpy, agitated.

‘Maybe I should come with you?’ I suggested, concerned for her wellbeing, thinking I could help with Billy.

But Uncle Jimmy shook his head.

‘You look shattered yourself,’ he said, gently. ‘Maybe you’d be better off sleeping here and catching up with us tomorrow?’

‘But look at the state-.’

‘I’m fine,’ Esther interrupted, her emotions as irregular as her breathing, abruptly annoyed by what she’d have considered
unnecessary sympathy
. ‘Besides, Tristan will wonder where you are, if he returns tonight. And what if-.’

She stopped, forgetting herself, but I knew what she was going to say and she had a point.
And what if Elinor returned and wondered where you were?

‘I’ll stay, okay. And I’ll ring first thing.’

‘And keep that door locked, just in case.’

‘I think you might have knocked it down,’ I joked, but it was lost on them both.

Within five minutes, they had pulled their protective clothing back on and vacated the house. I was on my own again, physically exhausted, but so mentally alert I had no chance of sleep.