The Middle Child (8 page)

    
"I love my children," Catherine protested hotly.  "I work hard to make sure that they want for nothing.  I get up early and work late to ensure that…"

    
"Okay, thank you.  That’s very interesting but it’s not where I want to start work."

    
"You think there’s work to be done?" Catherine asked, dumbfounded. 

     Emily smiled kindly. 
"Yes, Catherine I think there’s a lot of work to be done."

Chapter 8 – Alex

     Alex leaned across the sink to get closer to the mirror.  The scissors were poised high above her head while she tried to gauge the reflective hand cutting her hair.  The half bottle of vodka was doing little to assist her.

     As she aimed the scissors at the section just behind her fringe the phone started to ring, startling her.  She cursed and re-positioned her hand, no intention of answering the phone.  It was probably Jay and she didn’t want to talk to him. 

     She’d successfully avoided him since the day after she’d stayed at Nikki’s.  Since the moment she’d popped to the supermarket and refilled her alcohol supply.  At the bottom of the first bottle she’d found the vague memory of a promise to her friend. 

     The realisation that it was already broken had forced her to open another bottle.  Halfway through that she had resolved that it really hadn’t been a firm promise anyway.  It was like the pact she’d made with Catherine as a child.  She remembered whey they’d both pricked a thumb and held the blood together, promising that they would always take care of each other.  It was that kind of promise.  The type that you meant at the time but had no hope of keeping.  Empty.

     The phone stopped ringing and then started again.  Her jaws clenched with irritation.  Why the fuck did people do that?  She obviously wasn’t home so why keep bugging her?

     She held out the sides of her hair, stretching locks to the middle of her ear.  Perfect.  Another couple of snips and her hair was exactly how she liked it.  Short.

     The sink was full of black, pin like debris.  She looked back to the mirror half expecting her mother to be standing behind her, a murderous look on her face as she had when Alex was seven years old.

     She'd only wanted to trim her fringe.  All her friends had sported shorter, tidier styles, ideal for running and gymnastics.

     It was a school day so Mummy would brush it again with the silver comb that stabbed her head like a hundred pins.  She’d tried not to turn too many times in the night so that it wouldn’t get so tangled but she could see the knots running from close to her head to where her hair rested against her upper arm.

     Mummy refused to cut it, however much she begged.  Catherine and Beth had shorter hair so why couldn’t she?

     Alex tiptoed into the bathroom, an idea occurring to her.  She closed the toilet lid and stood on it to stretch to the bathroom cabinet.  Behind the mirrored panel was a pair of black-handled scissors.

     Alex jumped off the toilet and hurried to the dressing table in the bedroom.  She smiled at her reflection as she clutched a handful of hair.  If she cut out the knots it wouldn’t hurt to have it brushed.  The sound of the scissors crunching along the hair close to her ears was followed by the length of hair falling to the ground.

     Alex was pleased to see that it was a section of hair that contained a knot.

     "Oh no, Alex," Beth cried from the doorway.  "Oh no, oh no, oh no, what have you done?" she cried clutching the severed hair.

    
"It’s tangled," Alex offered, confused at Beth’s concern.

    
"Oh Alex, you shouldn’t have done…"

    
"Shouldn’t have done what?" her mum asked from the doorway.  Alex saw Beth
pale as she dropped the hair to the ground.

    
"She didn’t mean to do it, Mum," Beth said, standing in front of Alex.  Her mum slapped Beth around the face, sending her sideways to the ground. 

     Alex felt herself being dragged by the hair out of the room.  She felt the pull on her hair and tried to keep up as her mum dragged her down the stairs and dropped her in the middle of the room.

     "So, you want to hack off your hair and look like a little fucking boy?  Well, Mummy’s got a much easier way of doing it for you," she screeched as she opened the door that led to the kitchen.  She moved the single armchair so that it was against the open door.  She studied it for a moment.

    
"Sit," she ordered.

     Alex was confused.  She’d thought Mummy would be pleased that she had got rid of the knots but now she wasn’t so sure
.  She’d seen this look on her Mummy’s face before and now she was scared.

    
"Sit," she said again. Her eyes glazed and huge.

     Alex sat.

     She felt strands of her hair being pulled from the front of her head, not bunches of hair like she had clutched herself but thinner strands from the top of her forehead.  Alex relaxed.  This didn’t feel too bad.  It wasn’t hurting as much as the daily combing did.

     Beth appeared in the doorway, a red welt on the side of her face.  The horror that formed her expression caused Alex to turn around.

     The motion caused the thin strands of hair on her forehead to pinch painfully.  The brief glimpse had shown her Mum securing small thin clutches of hair to the handle of the open door with the elastic bands from her wrist, normally used for tying her hair into a tight ponytail.

     Alex didn’t understand why her Mum was tying her hair to the door handle.

     "Mum…please don’t…" Beth pleaded from the other side of the room.  Alex realised that Beth had turned deathly white and the left hand that covered her mouth was trembling.

     Alex saw her mum from the corner of her eye stand back and study what she’d done.  Alex tried to turn but her head was being held firmly in position of facing forward.

     "Sit still and don’t move," her mum instructed before turning to Beth.  "And you make sure that you watch."

     For a few seconds Alex had no idea what was happening as her mum’s figure went out of sight.

     She glanced sideways at Beth who sat where she had been instructed.  She had pulled her legs up in front of her and tears rolled over her cheeks.  Alex wanted to ask her what was wrong but then three things happened all at once.

     The door slammed behind her;

     Clutches of hair were ripped from her scalp and

     She passed out.

     Alex closed her eyes against the memory and the nausea that came with it.  She stared long and hard into the mirror, willing her mother to appear.

     "Come on, bitch," she whispered.  "Do it to me now."    

     As she re-entered the room the phone disturbed her again.  She swore at it and proceeded to the kitchen area to get another drink.  It was probably her boss wondering if she was going to make it into work this evening.

     "Highly unlikely, so fuck off," she bellowed as the ringing stopped, again.

     Alex had a sudden thought.  What if there was something wrong with Jay?  Maybe he was in trouble.  Perhaps he was hurt.

     She snatched at the hand piece when it began ringing again.

    
"It lives," Jay cried, forcing her to move the earpiece two inches out.  With the dull ache reverberating around her skull she wasn’t so sure his statement was completely accurate.

    
"Meet me in an hour," he barked.  "You know where."

     Alex replaced the receiver and marvelled at the brevity of the conversation.  If it could be called that when she hadn’t uttered one single word.

     On her way to Birmingham Bull Ring she picked up some of the fruit bonbons that Jay loved so much but she had the feeling that it would take more than his favourite sweets to butter him up. 

     She entered the outdoor market from the street entrance and any hope she’d had of ingratiating herself further by having a large latte ready for his arrival were dashed as she spied him sitting at their usual table with two frothy drinks before him.

     "Hey gorgeous," she said, bending to kiss his cheek.

     Jay evaded her touch expertly and Alex realised that her efforts to act normally were not going to work.

     She sighed as she sat opposite thinking that denial was a wonderful place to be, if only people would let her stay there.

    
"Take your glasses off," Jay instructed, frowning.

     Alex growled and removed them.  The day was fresh and bright, and it pierced her eyes.

     "You’re like some type of fucking vampire and you look like shit."

    
"Cheers pal, I appreciate your tact.  Don’t beat about the bush and just tell me how…"

    
"You lied to me," he said, fixing her with a direct glare.

     Alex swallowed.  She could tell by his face that he was not going to be easily placated.

     "Look, Jay, it’s not serious.  I’m really going to stop.  It’s just a difficult time with my mother…"

    
"That’s a cop out, Alex.  You hadn’t seen the woman for years.  There was no love lost between the two of you."

    
"She was my mother," Alex offered weakly.  Jay knew little of her past but Alex regretted telling him anything at all.  It proved her life philosophy; don’t let anyone know anything because they’ll just end up using it against you.

    
"I don’t accept that.  It was getting bad before your mother died.  It’s just that now you think you have a reason."

    
"Come on, Jay.  It’s really not that serious.  I like to have a couple of drinks now and again."

    
"No, you like to have a lot of drinks during the hours that you’re upright which incidentally are getting less and less."

    
"See, it must be getting better," she said, brightly.

     Jay didn’t respond.  He stirred the frothy liquid and placed the spoon in the saucer.

     "You lied to me," he said, quietly.  The words punched her in the gut.  It was the disappointment in his voice.  She reached for his hand but he withdrew it.

    
"Jay, I meant it but I was just…" her words trailed off.  She was just what?  She had no excuse and Jay knew it.  That’s why he was so hurt.  He knew that she’d never really taken the promise seriously.

     She lit a cigarette, wondering how to make Jay forgive her.  Life was shit and empty as it was but without Jay it would be intolerable.  He was the only person she had.

     "Look, I’ll try.  Really try.  I promise…"

    
"Don’t," he said, thumping the table.  The drinks clattered in the saucers.

     Alex was startled.  She’d never seen him like this.  Her stomach began to churn.

     "Don’t promise something that you just can’t do.  It weakens you."  He paused and then fixed her with a stare.  Alex realised that there was more going on here than her broken promise.  He looked drawn.  Dark circles were evident beneath his eyes.  His skin was pinched.

    
"Have you had a drink today?" he asked.

    
"Of course not.  It’s only half past ten."

    
"I thought not.  Your hands are trembling."

    
"They’re not," she said, placing them out of view in her lap.

    
"It’s a bit late now.  It took two attempts for that lighter flame to find the end of your cigarette."

     Alex was hoping that he hadn’t noticed. 
"Jay, what’s wrong?" she asked, gently.  There was a leaden quality to his voice.  It was deadened as though all the joy had been sucked out of him.

    
"You need help," he said, finishing the cappuccino.  "You need to see someone about your problem.  You need something like AA."

    
"You have to be fucking joking," she exploded.

     Jay shook his head. 
"It’s getting worse and you can’t do anything about it until you get help."

    
"Jay, I love you dearly but you are talking serious shit.  I like a few drinks and I’ve had a rough couple of weeks.  I’m not a fucking loser."

     Jay shook his head and smiled wryly, as though he’d expected her response.

     "You forget that I’ve seen it before."

    
"I’m not your father."

     He winced at her words.  She knew his childhood had been painful because of it but she wasn’t like that  She knew she could stop if she wanted to but at the moment she just didn’t want to.

     "You’re exactly like my father.  He pulled away from the people who loved him because he was ashamed.  He distanced himself from his family so that he became a stranger.  He had no involvement in the lives of his children.  He had no knowledge of important events in their lives."

     Jay’s voice had grown wistful and Alex knew he was clamouring, knee-deep, through memories of the past.

     "But I’m not like that," she said, touching his hand.  For a brief moment he left it there as he travelled back to the present.  His eyes filled with tears and he gently let go of her hand.

    
"Nicolas left me last week for a middle-aged banker."

    
"Oh God, Jay.  I’m so sorry.  I don’t know…"