The Jack And Danny Chronicles part eleven

Author: Cat

Heroic Exits or Mere Histrionics?
“Hello my petal,” Ally kissed me on the cheek, “Jack finally set you loose again I see. Has he got over your pyrotechnic pudding antics yet?”

“I’m banned from even looking at never mind touching anything that’s remotely flammable. You know Jack, no half measures except when it comes to booze.” Kicking off my shoes I followed her through to the sitting room, unsettled by the fact that she was voluntarily using her crutches. Even so, her balance was dodgy and she caught the wall a few times. I quelled the urge to offer her my arm for support; she’d only rip it off and beat me with the soggy end.  “Apparently the insurance company questioned the wisdom of allowing a serial arsonist to remain at large in the community and requested that Jack hand me over to the authorities, or at least refer me for psychiatric reports, at least that’s what Jack said they said, cheeky bugger.” I stepped over a pile of toys and sat down, staring at Ally critically. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas Day and I didn’t like what I was seeing. “For Christ’s sake Al, when was the last time you had anything to eat? You look like an anorexic whippet.” I took my life in my hands, “no wonder you’re staggering all over the place.”

“Don’t you bloody start Danny,” she flopped down on the couch, letting the crutches fall to the floor. “I get enough of that from Dennis. I’m just a bit tired.”

“He’s worried about you.” I stated the obvious for lack of anything else to state.

“Yeah well, in all likelihood, he won’t have to worry about me for much longer will he?”

“You’re blowing this out of all proportion Ally, jumping the gun before...”

She effectively cut me short (as if I weren’t vertically challenged enough) “That’s bloody rich coming from you; mister-jumping-to-far-fetched-conclusions himself. Do you want a coffee?”

I nodded.

“So do I,” she snapped. “You know where the kitchen is so get off your arse.”

Seeing as she’d asked so nicely I duly obliged.

“Where are Jen and Adam?” I handed her a mug of coffee.

“Spending the day with the jackal, poor little buggers.” She smirked, “don’t worry, they won’t mind you playing with their new toys even though they’re not here; as long as you don’t dress action man in Barbie’s best party frock and tiara again.”

“Ha, bloody ha, I’m splitting my sides,” I scowled. “Once, okay, I did it once. I was bored, and for your information it wasn’t action man, it was Ken and he looked better in the frock than Barbie did.” I put down the doll I had idly picked up, “does Den know you refer to his mother as the jackal?”

“He considers it one of my more complimentary names for her.” She grinned wickedly, “mind you, his face was a bloody wonder when Adam greeted her as granny jackal on Boxing Day. Tied himself in knots explaining that one away.”

“She’s alright in small doses. I don’t know why you’ve got it in for her. Honestly Al, you do take unreasonable dislikes to people.”

“She’s a miserable cow, specially where I’m concerned. She’d sooner have a horde of vermin take up permanent residence in her knickers than have me as a daughter in law.” Alison suddenly giggled, “do you remember that time you put your pet rat in her handbag and she reached in to get her hanky, then fainted when she realised she was trying to wipe her nose on a large rodent?”

“Yeah,” I glowered at Ally, “and I remember the spanking that Dennis gave me for doing it. I wouldn’t mind, but it was your idea. Poor old Lester didn’t appreciate being chucked through the air like that, it shortened his life I’m sure of it.”

“Rubbish, the fish tank broke his fall nicely and rats are naturally good swimmers. He struck up a close friendship with your goldfish as I recall.”

I spoke sourly, “he attacked and ate him! It was like a scene from Jaws, only the killer had whiskers and a long tail instead of gills and fins.”

“Stop grousing, you never cleaned the wretched tank out anyway. Poor bloody fish needed a Davy lamp strapped to its head to find its way through the murk. Lester put him out of his misery. And,” she added, “I was actually joking when I suggested you put him in Morticia’s handbag. I didn’t expect you to take me seriously.”

“You still shouldn’t have planted bad ideas in your little brother’s sweet and innocent mind.”

She made a rude noise, “sweet and innocent are not words I’d associate with you and neither did Den. He knew you didn’t need much help in the planting stakes, a natural propagator of trouble is what he called you right from the start.”

I took a few sips of my coffee and then decided that now was as good a time as any to risk my sister’s wrath and speak what was on my mind. Clearing my throat I said casually, “talking of Dennis, have you told him yet?”

Ally gave no sign of having heard the question. Struggling to her feet she walked over to the sitting room window. “I think we might well have snow for New Year, judging from the colour of that sky.”

“Ally please...” I gazed at her imploringly. “Please tell him. He has a right to know. I don’t understand why you’re bearing this alone when you don’t have to. He’ll be so upset when he finds out, and he’ll find out sooner or later.”  To be honest, I wasn’t being entirely altruistic.  Jack knew that I was keeping something from him and he didn’t like it. He kept making remarks about there being a fine line between well intentioned but misguided secrecy and wilful, potentially harmful, deceit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fashion guru, but the fact is; stripes are just not me and I didn’t fancy having another set of them adorning my rear when he found out that I was involved in a conspiracy of silence against Dennis.

“We’re definitely due some snow. Are you done with that mug?” She came back to the couch wresting my mug from my hand despite my protests that I hadn’t yet finished with it. Clutching both cups she turned away from me and promptly lost her balance falling heavily and narrowly missing striking her head against the corner of the coffee table.  “SHIT!” She furiously slapped away my attempts to help her get up, dragging herself into a sitting position. The cups, which had survived the fall unscathed, if minus their half drunk contents, ended up slamming into the sitting room wall. I silently picked the broken pieces up, allowing her time to get herself off the floor and onto the couch.  I then divested wall and carpet of coffee dregs with a damp cloth, and then sat down next to her.  “Shurrup Danny.” She ran shaky hands through her hair.

“I didn’t say a bloody word,” I glared at her indignantly.

“No, but you were thinking about it. I wish I hadn’t told you. I only did it because you pestered me, you nosy little sod. You had no right to spy on Libby and me and eavesdrop on a private conversation. I should have let that track official chuck you out of the stadium.”

I ignored this unwarranted attack. True, I should never have followed them into the ladies loo that night we went to the dog track and listened outside the cubicle doors. I suspected they were going in for a chat as well as something more functional, and figured that if subterfuge was the only way to gain information, then so be it. In my opinion that woman made a big fuss about nothing. I mean she nearly had her knickers back up when I barged in on her to avoid being caught by Ally. If she wanted privacy she should have locked the bloody door. “Have you heard back from the hospital?”

Ally nodded, “yep.”

“And?”

“And what Danny?”

“Bloody hell Alison,” my anxieties got the better of me and I erupted. “It’s like drawing teeth. Stop pissing me about and tell me when you go in for the biopsy.”

“I don’t.”

It was too much, leaping to my feet I yelled at her. “What do you mean you DON’T? Are you telling me that the fucking lump you’ve had in your breast for the past month and done fuck all about isn’t cancerous, and therefore nothing to worry about? I know I’m gay but do me a favour and give me a straight fucking answer!”

Alison flushed and her eyes glittered angrily. “I don’t need a biopsy to tell me what I already know. Our mother died of breast cancer, her mother died of breast cancer, her sister died of breast cancer, doesn’t that give you an indication of the odds?”

“Christ,” I flopped back down on the chair. “You don’t know that for sure Ally. You need the biopsy to confirm or contradict the diagnosis you’ve already made. Besides, surely you have to have it done before they can progress with the right treatment?”

She stared at me in silence for a long moment and I was suddenly conscious of a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Her next words confirmed its right to be there.

“It’s pointless having a biopsy, because regardless of the diagnosis I’m not having any treatment.”

I half got up again, and then decided I didn’t have the strength for it, sinking back into the chair. “You’re not serious, you can’t be. You’re just saying that because you’re scared, it’s okay to be scared Ally, who wouldn’t be.”

“I’m not scared and I’ve never been more serious about anything. If it’s cancer, its cancer and I’ll die. If it isn’t then there’s nothing lost is there?”

“YOU SELFISH MARE!” I shot to my feet, propelled by an explosive mixture of fear and anger. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “This isn’t just about you! What about the kids, what about Den, what about me? You owe it to the people who love you to do everything you can to get well. I just don’t fucking get IT!”

“No,” she shouted, “that much is bloody obvious! You really don’t get it do you? LOOK at me. I’m hardly the epitome of feminine beauty and grace am I?” She gave a twisted smile, “I have trouble enough with my balance without losing ballast on one side. I’d be staggering around in a permanent frigging circle.”

“How can you joke about something as serious as this?” I burst into tears. I couldn’t help it, as all the misery of my mother’s illness and death coming back to haunt me. Alison gathered me into her arms and pulled me down onto the couch with her, holding me hard against her as I sobbed.

“Danny, darling, please try to understand. My body is deformed enough. I can’t bear to look in a mirror as it is. Then I kid myself that my top bit isn’t too bad, that sitting down I look normal. Don’t you think it’s bad enough that poor Dennis is lumbered with a spastic as a wife without having to contend with a wife with additional deformities? For any woman the prospect of losing a breast is horrific, for me it’s unthinkable. Besides that, the bloody treatment makes your hair fall out. I couldn’t bear Dennis rejecting me because I physically repulsed him. I’d rather be dead.”

I spoke from the muffled depths of her chest. “Den isn’t like that. He’s always totally accepted you for who you are. Anyway, you view yourself far more cruelly than anyone else does. Dennis thinks you’re beautiful. He loves you. The kids love you, and so do I. Besides, treatments are better now, less disfiguring and more successful. I’ve read up about it.” I sat up feeling drained of all energy, making an effort to compose myself and gratefully wiping my eyes and nose on the shirttail she offered.  “I don’t understand why you didn’t go to the doctor as soon as you discovered the lump, instead of putting it off.” She didn’t reply, concentrating her attentions on pulling a thread out of her shirt cuff button, the inevitable happened and it came adrift, bouncing onto the floor.  Jack was right about Alison she blocked things out, pretended they weren’t happening, even if it endangered her.  “You can’t keep this from Dennis any longer, it’s not right. Do you think not telling him will somehow make it less real?”  I glanced towards the window where Alison’s prediction of snow was being realised, large soft flakes had begun spiralling lazily down. “Don’t you think he’s going to notice that you’re ill? What were you planning on doing when the time comes,” I pointed to the window, “leaving the tent and going nobly into the blizzard to die like some fucking latter day Captain Oates, perhaps saying to Dennis and the kids: ‘I am just going outside. I may be some time,’ before staggering off to perish in the depths of the fish finger freezer at Tescos?”

She gave me a very tainted look, “you’ve been living with Jack for way too long. His sarcasm is starting to rub off.”

We sat in silence for a while watching the snow gather pace outside the window, the room dimming to a sullen grey as the afternoon light faded. My voice cut the gloom. “I’m going to tell Dennis, I mean it Ally.”

The temperature in the room dipped lower than outside as she bayoneted me on an icy glare, “this is my business Daniel, no one else’s, and you made me a solemn promise.”

“That was before you sprang this crap on me. I promised to say nothing until you found out one way or the other.” I moved hastily away from her, she had a mean right hook when mad. “Either you promise to go for that biopsy or I tell Dennis and if I know him, he’ll drag you to the bloody hospital.”

“You blackmailing little scab.” Her voice was as hard as flint, “if you breathe so much as a syllable of this Danny, I’ll never speak to you again, ever. I’ll cut you dead, regardless of what happens.”

I got up, my knees were shaking and I felt sick. “Better that, than you end up dead, especially when there’s no need. You always have to be so stubborn and independent. You refuse to take into account that people care about you. You don’t live in a vacuum for Christ’s sake, what touches you, touches us.” I grabbed my jacket and stormed out into the snow almost slamming the front door off its hinges. I got to the bottom of the garden path before turning back.

She was waiting in the hall when I reopened the front door.  “You forgot these Captain Oates,” she held out my trainers. “Great exit by the way, one of your best.”

I snatched the trainers out of her hand and burst into a fresh paroxysm of tears. “I hate you Ally, my fucking feet are freezing now. I’ll get chilblains and it’ll be all your fault.”

She turned away, holding the wall for support, “yeah well,” there was a bitter edge to her voice despite the levity of the words that followed. “If Den ends up with a bald, one titted cripple for a wife, we’ll know whose fault that is won’t we?”

I forgot my sodden, frozen feet as the implications of her words sank in. “Ally,” I flung myself at her, promptly knocking her flat as my wet feet slid from under me. I ended up on top of her.

“Bloody hell Danny,” she gasped trying to wriggle out from under me, “you’ll kill me before the cancer does.”

“You haven’t got cancer until the consultant tells you that you’ve got it.” I helped her to her feet. “So save the hysterics until then.”

She raised her eyebrows and gave a little sniff, “I hate it when you act my age.”

I grinned at her, “me too, let’s get drunk and cross dress action man and Ken.”

“Sounds good to me my boy. Action man is all mine, you can have that wimp Ken.”

“Okay, but I want that sparkling blue gauzy number for him first.”

“The one with matching wings?”

“That’s the one.”

“You’re a sad case Danny, a sad case.”

“So,” I set Ken aside, satisfied that he looked very fetching in a glitzy lemon ski suit with bobble hat and matching high heels. Though how the fuck anyone could walk, let alone ski in high heels was beyond me, “when do you go in for this biopsy and what does it entail?”

Alison set aside Action man, who looked frankly fucking terrifying in a leopard print mini dress with matching handbag, he just didn’t have the legs to carry such an ensemble off. “Tomorrow morning, half past ten.”

“Crikey, they don’t mess about do they?”

“Not when a patient has a family history like mine,” she gave a humourless smile. “I get to go straight to the head of the queue. The consultant wants to do something called a needle core biopsy. It apparently means removing a tissue sample from the lump itself. They’ll do more blood tests and stuff while I’m there as well.”

“Won’t Dennis be just a teensy bit curious when you announce you’re going into hospital in the morning? You have to tell him now Ally, and what about the rug rats, what are you planning on doing with them?”

“Den’s at work tomorrow. I’ll be all done and dusted by the time he gets home. I’m having it done under a local anaesthetic as a day patient. Couple of hours and Bob’s your uncle, or in Ken’s case,” she grinned and pointed at the toy, “your auntie.  Libby will look after the kids for me.”

I was rather hurt. “I would have looked after them, they like being with me.”

“Is Jack working tomorrow?”

“No.”

“That means he’d be asking questions about where I was going. You know Jack, he wants to know the ins and outs of a fart, and he’d be bound to let slip to Den about the kids being at your place. It’s easier if Libby baby-sits.”

“ When exactly are you planning on springing the news on Dennis?”

“When I’m ready, when it’s all straight in my mind and when I know for sure.” She drained her glass and held it out, “till then Danny, not a word. I don’t want Dennis fretting and fussing.”

I topped up our glasses, mentally wiping Jack’s no alcohol stipulation from my mind’s memory tape. Drastic situations called for drastic measures and maturity of thought and action, and what was more mature than getting drunk and playing with dolls?  As a concession to good sense, we opened a few packets of crisps to help absorb the booze.

“Perfect people eh Danny?” Ally twirled a naked Barbie round by the hair, as we sat on the floor.  “This is what little girls are supposed to aspire to: long straight legs, tiny waist and blonde hair. The only thing is that if you had a body that shape and boobs that size in real life, you’d need scaffolding just to stand up straight.” She took a thoughtful sip of her wine. “I actually had scaffolding when I was young. My legs were encased in these frigging steel and leather calliper things from hip to ankle. They never did help straighten my limbs, all they did was chafe my skin red raw and make me look like a low budget version of c3po from the phantom menace. I refused to wear them in the end.” She drained her glass of wine and winked at me, “chucked them out of the bedroom window of the Home I lived in, shame I forgot to open it first.”

“What was it like Ally, living in a Children’s Home? You keep saying you’ll tell me about it, but you never do.” I lightly sprayed her with prawn flavour crisps, as I abandoned manners and spoke with my mouth full.

“What did you come round for Dan?” Alison, as ever, neatly side stepped the question, reciprocating my crisp spraying activities with pickled onion flavour crisps as she spoke. “You were too busy doing an impression of Jack and reminding me of my responsibilities to say earlier.”

“I was good wasn’t I?” I beamed at her, “Jack would have been proud of me, apart from the swearing that is.”

Ally nodded sagely, “yeah, it’s a fucking disgrace the way you swear. No wonder he gets upset with you.” Suddenly she was giggling. “His face...oh Jesus...his face Danny when you put a match to that pudding and the sheet of flame roared up to the ceiling...”she held her sides, tears of laughter pouring down her cheeks. “And when Skel’s carrot started screaming and the blood spurted... poor Jack...he nearly choked himself...did you see...and Dennis wasn’t much better, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Oh dear,” she wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve. “Jack loves you so much Danny, how else could he endure everything you inflict on him.”

“I don’t mean to be a trial to him, it just seems to happen.” I smiled at her,  “actually I came round to bring you a pressie, but I was half way here when I realised I’d left the bloody thing on the kitchen table. It was that bastard Tristan’s fault. He announced that he was staying with us for a while longer because the builders have discovered some problem with his loft joists. I think he’s pulling a fast one meself, living with us rent-free and making my life a misery. He’s trying to break me and Jack up, I’m sure of it.”

“Don’t be so bloody paranoid Danny. Jack isn’t that easily swayed and Tristan, dear boy, is still dating Skeletor, though I thought necrophilia was illegal in this country. I wonder if he glows green in the dark, like a decomposing lobster.”

I put my crisps down, my appetite ruined by the picture she had conjured up.  “That’s disgusting. I’ll have nightmares now.”

“What were you bringing me a present for anyway? You gave me a lovely gift on Christmas Day.” She indicated her earlobes, which were adorned with the earrings we had given her.

“They were mainly from Jack,” I admitted. “I wanted to give you something from me, only things have been a bit sporadic on the cash front lately. Anyway, while I was grounded, I was so bored I decided to have a go at tidying some of my stuff out of the garage. I came across something that I thought you might like.”

“What?”

“Not telling,” I teased, “you’ll have to wait and see. I’ll give you it tomorrow night.” I looked at her anxiously, “will you be up to Jack and I calling round, you know, after...” I inclined my head towards her chest region.

“The doctor said I’d be a bit sore, but it’s no big deal. As long as you don’t hug me too tight when the bell tolls in the New Year, I’ll be fine.” She waved the wine bottle at me, “refill?”

“Better not,” I sighed regretfully, “I’m not supposed to be drinking at all. Jack won’t be chuffed if I roll home rat arsed yet again. I’ll end up bare arsed, with his hand pounding a message about the dangers of alcohol abuse onto it. I’ll walk home instead of getting the bus, that should sober me up nicely.”

I knelt on the floor to give Ally a hug before I set off. “Do you want me to come to the hospital with you tomorrow, to hold your hand or something? I don’t like to think of you going on your own, not for something like this.”

“Thanks for the offer Dan,” she said gently, “but I’d rather be alone.”

“Promise you’ll get a taxi home, don’t try to drive for God’s sake.” I mentally shuddered at the prospect of a drugged up Alison driving on snowy roads. No one would be safe.

“I couldn’t drive even if I wanted to. Dennis, rotten swine that he is, has confiscated my car keys. She gave me a little push, “stop fussing and bugger off home.”

The walk home sobered me all right, but it also allowed me time to dwell on all the horrible possibilities and outcomes that lurked somewhere in the future for Alison. A mental image of my mother’s face in the last days of her illness impressed itself upon my mind’s eye. It was a picture I thought I had successfully erased, along with all the fears and confusion of my ten-year-old self, as I struggled to come to terms with what was going on around me.  I was glad of the darkness to hide the signs of my reawakened grief.

*

“I think that corner over there is appropriate as far as you’re concerned.” Jack set down the box of groceries on the kitchen table and flung out his arm to indicate where I was to place my person.

“It wasn’t my fault Jack!” I performed a pas de bourree that a prima ballerina would have been proud to own, gracefully transferring my weight from one foot to the other three times in traditional style. Jack anticipated and blocked my attempts to follow up with a saut, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck before I could launch myself into the air, and steering me firmly into the location of his choice.

“Jesus Christ.” I tried to twist round and was rewarded with two swift sharp slaps to my bottom that made me yelp.

“Let’s start putting our New Year resolutions into action a little earlier than tradition requires shall we?”

“I haven’t bloody made...” the third swat was harder still and I wisely shut my mouth, folding my arms and glaring at the wall instead.

“No, I’ve made them for you.” Jack’s voice was stern, “swearing is out, in fact any kind of profanity, religious or secular, is out, you’ve got a mouth like sewer and I’m sick of it. Doing as I say, when I say, is in, along with thinking before you act. I’ve allowed you too long a leash and I’m reeling it in. Now stand up straight and face that wall until I say otherwise.”

I listened to the sounds of shopping being unpacked and put away. The kettle was filled and tea made before Jack broke the silence of fifteen minutes. “Why are you in that corner Daniel?”

I dragged a,
what kind of a stupid question is that sigh up from the depths of my being, “because you made...”

“Don’t even glance down that path Daniel, because I’m in no mood for your verbal shenanigans.”

“It was an accident. The man was alright about it Jack. He accepted my apology and your offer to pay to have his specs mended.”

“What shouldn’t you have done?”

My temper began to rise again. I hated this tendency of Jack’s to hold an inquest into every little mistake I made. I just wanted to forget all about it.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

I pulled a face at the wall, “I hate shopping. You know how much I hate shopping and still...”

“What-shouldn’t-you-have-done-Daniel?”

Great, he was speaking in rapid fire English now. This should have alerted me to how angry he was. Unfortunately I was tired. I hadn’t slept well and Ally’s little trip to the hospital was preying on my mind. It had knocked my mood reading abilities askew.

“The damn shopping trolley had a wonky wheel, I couldn’t push it properly.”

“What-shouldn’t-you-have-done-Daniel?”

“I was bored, I was just trying to...”

Jack’s voice began to peak and trough, an even surer sign of his annoyance. “WHAT shouldn’t YOU have done DANIEL?”

“ALL RIGHT! I shouldn’t have kicked the damn kitchen roll down the aisle like I was trying to score a goal for England.”

“Drop the attitude Danny. Explain why it was a bad idea to kick goods, you hadn’t yet paid for, thirty five feet down a crowded aisle, in an asinine attempt to get it in the shopping trolley you saw fit to abandon at the other end of the store.”

My temper fuelled by guilt and resentment left the boundaries of earth and began orbiting Saturn. I whirled around to face him,  “because there’s always some awkward, short sighted old FUCKER who’s going to step into your fucking path and get hit in the fucking face with aforementioned, super absorbent, bastard, frigging kitchen ROLL. There, happy now?”

The sink could do with a spot of bleach, I observed as I leaned over it hawking and spitting the detested lemon scented soap from my mouth. I was not allowed the courtesy of rinsing. Jack whisked me away from the sink and upstairs to our bedroom in the proverbial twinkling. I was disrobed faster than the future groom at a rugby player’s stag party. Jack wasted no time and I let out a yell as his hand smacked down on the left cheek of my bare bottom for the first time.  My eyes watered under the impact. From the feel of it, Jack had left a print that Scotland Yard could identify him from. I whooped as he delivered an identical one to my right buttocks. He didn’t let up for a single second, when my man punishes he gives no quarter. I finally managed to reach a hand behind myself in a vain attempt to protect what was left of my bottom.

“Move it.” Jack paused the punishment and rapped the instruction out like a sergeant major.

“Please Jack, no more. I’m truly sorry about the old man and I’m sorry about my response.” Two cracks, reminiscent of gunfire, echoed around the room as Jack administered a smack to the back of each thigh. I moved my hand at once, and he commenced in his one-man mission to turn my backside into a neurovascular disaster area. I submitted and lay limply across his lap concentrating on the task of crying hard.

“You just do not speak to me like that, you do not swear at me like that, is that understood?” I managed a nod and his hand stopped falling although my seared rump took a good few minutes to acknowledge the fact.  He turned me right way up so that I was sitting on his knee.

“What’s going on Danny?”

“Nothing.” I put my arms around his neck.

“I don’t believe you baby,” he cuddled me. “Something has been bothering you for the past few weeks and you’ve been an absolute pain in the neck since yesterday evening.  I’ll find out, I always do, so why not unburden yourself.”

I shook my head, nestling closer against him as he held me in his arms. All I wanted was to stay curled up on his lap and be comforted. I was grateful when he didn’t press me on the subject, nor did I object when he insisted I get into bed for a nap before dinner. He drew the covers up under my chin and bent to kiss me, “I love you, now try and sleep. You look shattered. ”

The muffled ringing of the telephone and voices from downstairs broke into a dream I was having about Ken and Action Man setting up home together in Barbie’s camper van. I winced as I turned over onto my back and my sore bottom made contact with the mattress.  I got dressed, pulling on a pair of loose jogging bottoms instead of my usual jeans, then made my way down stairs.  I hadn’t bothered switching the landing light on. The only illumination of the hall and stairs came from the sitting room whose door was open. I got halfway down, and then stood transfixed by the sight that greeted my eyes. Standing in the middle of the room locked in a close embrace were Jack and Tristan. Keeping one arm tight around Tristan, Jack reached the other out and pushed the door closed, oblivious of my presence on the stairs. I stood in the darkness my heart thudding painfully in my chest as my entire world crumbled about me. I finally summoned the will to continue the downward journey. Pushing my feet into my trainers, I lifted Jack’s car keys from the hall table and quietly left the house.

I drove fast trying to leave behind the pain that was tearing me apart. Strange thing is, it kept up and increased in force with every inch of road I covered. Hartington Lane suddenly loomed ahead of me, long, straight and empty. A succession of traffic lights, marking strategically placed pedestrian crossings, outside the school, the pub and the union club, shone green in the darkness.  David Gray, another of Jack’s musical quirks, was playing on the car stereo.  All at once, the words seemed prophetic, 
‘looking back through time you know it’s clear that I’ve been blind I’ve been a fool...’ The traffic lights blurred and scintillated in the frost-glazed air, their splintered particles intensified by the tears pouring unchecked down my face. The row of lights suddenly represented a challenge. I responded in the affirmative, gripping the wheel tightly I put my foot down....


Addendum:

“Mr. Kinross, Mr Jack Kinross?” The policeman removed his hat as the tall man who had replied to his knock on the front door gave a nod of affirmation. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”







2008 Tab_itha@hotmail.com