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  I don’t say anything as he starts to offload all the pain; something tells me he doesn’t need words, he just needs a shoulder to cry on, and he’s got it – both of them if he needs them.

  “I never meant to leave him so long,” he continues, beginning to relax. “I didn’t think I was that bad, but I guess I must have blacked out. I do sometimes...”

  “It’s all right,” I assure him, touching his arm.

  “NO IT ISN’T!” he shouts, but not at me, at himself. “I can’t do anything without a bloody drink. Why do you think I look like shit now? I’ve not had a fucking drink all week!”

  I want so very much to hold him, ease his pain a little, but I’m terrified he’ll push me away. The link, the invisible something that joins me to him, is still so fragile, one false move and it will snap forever. “Jack’s going to be okay, and Bill doesn’t blame you.”

  He turns away, breathing hard. “Of course he does. He bloody told me as much.”

  “I wouldn’t know that,” I tell him. “But I do know he’s forgiven you.”

  He looks at me again, the whites of his eyes blood red. “How can he forgive me?”

  “You’re his brother.” I smile. “Now all you have to do is forgive yourself.”

  It feels so good to release him from the guilt, tell him he can go back home without fear of repercussion. When he wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my hair, I realise I’ve done enough. He believes me, and he’s going to get better.

  I hold him as tight as I can, let him feel just how much I love him. That’s all he wants – to be loved and wanted – and no one could love or want him more than I do. Me, I just want to feel good about myself, and right here and now the comforting warmth is spreading through me.

  But once again the happiness I crave is snatched from me when the two of them step out from the casualty department.

  The fat one looks just like he did in the park, in faded jeans with his round, pudgy face and nasty little piggy eyes obscured by his brown hood. The thin one, his nose is all smashed up from where Gary kicked his face in, but I know it’s him, because if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget how wild and demented his icy blue eyes are.

  I gasp as the shock shakes my very core. They stop mid-step and turn to face me. They know who I am. They know straight away. Just to make sure I won’t say anything, the skinny one runs his index finger across the line of his throat, snarling to reveal a mouth full of chipped and broken teeth.

  “Tammy, what’s wrong?”

  I know I should tell Gary those thugs are standing right behind us, but I don’t. I can’t. My fear freezes the words in my throat.

  “Tammy?” He looks confused and frightened, trying to work out what’s wrong with me.

  “It’s nothing,” I stammer, praying he won’t turn around and see them both glaring at us. “I just came over a little faint.”

  His arms are around me in a flash, the warmth of his body nourishing mine. “You need tea,” he says. “Come on, there’s a café inside.”

  “No!” If he stands up, he’ll see them, and I can’t, I won’t be responsible for him getting into trouble again. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest a bit.”

  He’s not convinced, and why should he be? I’m acting crazy, my heart beating with such force it hurts my chest.

  “What time is it?” I pant, trying to think of something, anything to stop him from turning around.

  He looks down at his watch. “Five. Why?”

  “I’ve got to go!” I stammer, the fear swelling in my chest threatening to suffocate me. “I’m grounded, see. If Mummy realises where I am –”

  “Okay.” He strokes my hair, but I can’t relax with both of them waiting to get me. “I’ll get you a cab.”

  “No, don’t go!” I wrap my arms tight to keep him with me, stop him from seeing them thugs, hoping, praying that the next time I look up, they’ll be gone.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice trembles ever so slightly like he’s infected by my fear.

  I risk glancing over his shoulder and see them walking away, back towards the shops. My heart starts to slow, and suddenly I can breathe again.

  “Tammy, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” I’m still on the verge of hyperventilating, but I’m holding it together – somehow. I check again just to make sure they haven’t turned around and are coming back to get me. They’re not. I can’t see them anywhere.

  “You don’t look okay.”

  They’ve gone and I’m safe. I tell myself this over and over again. But the truth is the only time I feel secure is when I look into Gary’s eyes. They really do look like the best hot chocolate in the world, and breathing in his strength and his beauty, the tension leaves my muscles. I even manage to find a smile for him. It isn’t hard; he really is a ten out of ten on the CHIL scale.

  “Tammy, what aren’t you telling me?”

  I shake my head. I can’t tell him I saw those thugs. He’ll go crazy, go and get himself into trouble again, and then how would that look to Social Services? It won’t matter how nice I’ve made their house look if Gary goes and gets himself another black eye. I have to keep quiet. I really don’t want to lie to him again, but what choice do I have?

  Thursday 6:10 p.m.

  Gary

  I don’t get her. One minute she’s all over me and I think we’re back on; the next she’s in tears and can’t get away quick enough. I should have learnt my bloody lesson by now. All she’s ever done is screw me over from the moment I met her, and me, I just come running back for more, and I’m still running now, making a complete twat of myself trying to get her to want me again.

  “You will be there tomorrow?” She said she would be, but I really don’t know now. She won’t even look me in the eye.

  “Of course,” she says, climbing into the back of the black cab.

  She’s so white she makes a goth girl looked tanned. It takes me back to the very first time I saw her when them thugs had her. “Tammy, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she says, sniffing back more tears. “I’ll be fine. Look, I’ve got to go now. If I don’t get back soon, Mummy will kill me.”

  She’s holding something back, but for the life of me I can’t think what it could be. And then suddenly it hits me – well, more like slaps me round the face. It’s me. I went too far telling her what’s what, and now I’ve scared her off. “Tammy, look, I’m sorry I lost my temper, I didn’t mean – ”

  “It’s not you,” she interrupts, trying to buckle herself in with shaking fingers. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ve got to go.”

  “I’ll come with you.” I can’t leave things like this, I just can’t. I’ve spent all week trying to forget her, and I’m not going to spend all night going out of my mind trying to figure out what I’ve done to make her this upset.

  “You can’t!” she cries, holding me back.

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve got to sort things out with Bill!”

  “I’ll talk to him later.”

  “No, you’ll talk to him now. Social Services are coming round tomorrow.”

  “Look, mate,” says the balding cabby, turning around to look at us. “Get in or get out, I don’t care. But while you two are having a lovers’ tiff, my supper’s getting cold.”

  I stop short of telling him where he can stick his supper because I don’t want to upset Tammy any more.

  “Gary, I’m fine.” Leaning forward, she touches my hand, and a hundred volts of pure electricity shoot through my arm. “Please go and talk to Bill. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “Promise?” Needing to touch her, I press my hand to her cheek. I’m hurting just at the thought of her leaving me.

  “Promise.” She kisses my wrist, her lips lingering long enough to turn me to mush, and while I’m somewhere between here and the blue skies above, she gives me back my hand, pulls the door shut, and she’s gone.

  You know those dreams you have that play
out like some kind of epic adventure and you think when you wake up they’d make the most amazing film ever; but when you try to tell someone what happened, it doesn’t make any sense because everything’s all disjointed and out of sequence? Well, that’s how I feel – all messed up.

  I’ve got so many things wrong, I’m not sure I was ever right about anything. I mean, if I was wrong about Grace and wrong thinking I was like my old man, have I got it all wrong about Tammy? Does she really like me, or is she just saying it because she thinks she owes me?

  I go to grab my mobile so I can call her, put an end to this doubt that won’t stop nagging me, before I remember I smashed it in some drunken rage, and her number, along with that of everyone else I ever knew, is in some bin. Shit! What did I have to go and do that for?

  Still feeling like I’m walking in thick fog with a really bad concussion, I head back into the hospital to go and sort things out with Bill, and find him heading to one of the waiting rooms with Maureen.

  “Hello, Gary.” Dressed in her usual drab brown and thick, black-rimmed glasses, she bounces about like a hyperactive sparrow. “Bill said you were busy.”

  “Well, I’m not now.” I can’t tell if Bill is happy or not. He just looks done in.

  “Good.” She smiles. “It’s important you’re here, we need to have a serious talk about Jack.”

  I swallow as I follow her into the small room that’s supposed to resemble a living room. In Social Service code, that means “we’ve already decided to take Jack away, but we’re going to try and convince you it’s the right thing to do even though it’s not.”

  “Why don’t you sit down?” she continues, her voice sounding all rehearsed.

  The room doesn’t go anywhere near to making me relaxed just because it’s got armchairs, a sofa, and some coffee table with a pot of flowers. I sit next to Bill on the sofa, who doesn’t appear to be the least bit relaxed either.

  “I think I made a mistake, and for that I truly am sorry.” Maureen sighs, perching on the edge of the armchair. “Raising a child, working, studying – it’s hard work.”

  Bill and I look at each other. He shrugs too; he hasn’t got a clue what she’s going on about either.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say,” she explains, “is that I think it might be best if Jack goes to live with your aunt.”

  “Best for who?” I ask her.

  “For you two,” she tells me. “You’re both young. If Grace was alive, you’d be out every night having the time of your lives. And Jack deserves a mother and father, and this way you can still see...”

  I stop listening. I’ve heard enough, and my blood is at boiling point waiting for Bill to say something. But he doesn’t. He just sits there staring into space with bloodshot eyes. Tammy was right, he’s given up – there’s no fight left in him. Fortunately, there’s plenty building up inside me.

  “We don’t want Val taking Jack!”

  “Gary, this isn’t about what you and Bill want.” Leaning forward, Maureen lowers her voice, as if that’s going to make me calm down. “This is about what’s right for Jack.”

  “Being with us is what’s right for Jack!”

  “I’m not so sure,” she says. “You two haven’t been doing such a good job to date.”

  “Then you better tell us what we’re supposed to do,” I tell her. “Because Grace wanted us all to stay together. It was what she wanted, got it?”

  Maureen opens her mouth, ready to give us a million and one dos and don’ts on how to be a parent, when Bill interrupts.

  “I don’t think we need any help,” he says, turning to face me. “Do we, Gary?”

  I shake my head and grin. He still looks like crap, and so do I. He’s on the verge of being kicked out of college; I’ll be lucky if I’ve still got a job. He’s popping antidepressants like it’s going out of fashion, I’ve spent the last year trashed, we’re both skint, and we’ve somehow got to look after Jack, but that don’t matter. We’re on the same side again, and that means we can do anything.

  “Pillock.” Bill punches me in the arm and laughs when he nearly sends me flying.

  I shove him back, which is the nearest I’ll ever get to giving him a hug. Anyway he knows what I mean.

  “Will you two please listen!” says Maureen, rising to her feet. “This is no laughing matter.”

  I try to stop smirking. I’ve still got this mental image of Maureen as a sparrow. I’ve no idea why it’s so funny, but I’ve got to remember to tell Bill.

  “You’ve still got to convince the inspector,” she snaps. “You messed up big time, and we have to make sure that won’t happen again.”

  “I know.” Bill stops smirking. He’s back to being serious again. “But if you tell him Jack’s better off with us, he’ll take that into consideration, won’t he?”

  “The inspector is a she, and yes, my recommendation will impact her decision.”

  “So what’s the problem?” I ask.

  “I’m not convinced.” Maureen sits back down, takes off her glasses, and rubs her eyes. “Gary, I like you, I really do, but fighting and getting drunk all the time – what kind of message is that sending out to Jack?”

  Bill goes to open his mouth to put her straight, but now isn’t the time for fighting back. She’s right. I might have got the last black eye saving Tammy, but all the others were me getting trashed and picking fights with anyone I could because I couldn’t deal with my life. I don’t want Jack to end up like that. I wouldn’t wish the last year of my life on anyone.

  “That won’t happen anymore.” I mean it, I really do.

  “Promises are cheap, Gary.”

  If she could just put herself inside my head for a second, she would never have said that, but she doesn’t know me. All she knows about me is the emotional train wreck Grace’s death turned me into.

  “It won’t happen again because I don’t want to let Grace down.” She doesn’t realise what a struggle it is to tell her. She doesn’t realise that inside, I’m fighting a war to stop myself from crying and making things a hundred times worse. Neither of them realise just how guilty I feel. “I owe her,” I tell her. “I owe her everything. If it weren’t for her, I’d have ended up in some kids’ home with nothing, and there is no bloody way I’m going to sit back and let you ruin Jack’s life like that. Now do you believe me?”

  For the first time since she knocked on our door and told us she was our social worker, Maureen is speechless, if only for a few moments. “Yes,” she says putting her glasses back on. “I believe you.”

  I wish I could thank her. I wish I could, but I can’t talk – not yet. I look at the wall, wait for my breathing to slow and a year’s worth of shit to back off. I hit out at the world because I felt like Grace betrayed me. I wanted to smash everything she ever did for me so I didn’t owe her anything and I could be free to hate her, and all because of one stupid mistake. No wonder I feel like crying.

  “You can’t do this on your own,” says Maureen, breaking the oppressive silence. “You’ll need help.”

  “We’ll be okay,” I insist, not for her but for Bill, who must be shitting himself fearing I’m about to crack up.

  “I was going to say I’ll help if you let me.” She hands me a tissue and smiles.

  “Thanks.” I blow my nose and try to get back in control, but I’m still shaking.

  “This is absolutely the last chance you’ve got,” she continues. “You mess up again –”

  “We won’t.”

  “Good, because if I ever think being with you two isn’t in Jack’s best interest, I’ll take him away myself!”

  I join Bill in looking at my feet as she reminds us just what could happen.

  “And you can stop that right now!” she says, slipping her handbag over her shoulder. “You do as I say and Jack stays with you. Now come on. I’ll buy you both a cup of tea and tell you what you can expect tomorrow.”

  Maureen spends about an hour telling us what to say and what not t
o say to the inspector. She helps fill in all the forms and even offers to come round and help tidy up, but Bill assures her he and Tammy have done all that, and the inspector could eat off the kitchen floor, it’s that bloody clean.

  She’s all right, Maureen. I still think she looks like a demented sparrow, but if Jack stays with us, I think I can get to like her – even if she does work for the Social Services.

  Walking back from Vernon’s, we stop off at the chippy because Bill says he’s done enough washing up for one year. Sitting on the wall next to the Fox and Hare to eat them, we eye two girls in Lycra mini dresses who are sitting with a group of friends around one of the bigger tables and have been giving us the come-on.

  “I think we’re well in there,” says Bill, helping himself to one of my chips. “Which one do you want, the blonde or the brunette?”

  They’re both babes, but I’m not interested. “You can have them both.”

  “I take it you and Tammy are back on?”

  “No idea,” I tell him, taking another chip. “Can’t figure her out.”

  “You and me both.” Bill sighs. “I mean, she’s rich, pretty, and seems to have half a brain and she fancies you! There’s got to be something wrong with her.”

  “Bastard.”

  He laughs and shoves me back. “Like her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” And I stop laughing because it isn’t funny. What chance have I got, really? I mean, Bill might be joking, but he’s right: what would some rich, pretty girl possibly see in a loser like me? And if she did want me, her mum and that lawyer of hers aren’t going to stand by and let us be together.

  “You have got it bad,” says Bill, getting to his feet. “Come on. Time you saw what your posh girlfriend has done to our home.”

  I wish I didn’t like her, I really do. She smiles and I’m higher than being stoned. She cries and I want to kill myself. I guess that’s why I feel so paranoid now, ’cos somewhere in her fancy home, she isn’t happy. But that isn’t the only thing bothering me. Something else isn’t right. I stop at the corner to our road and turn around. Weird. I am sure someone other than them girls is watching me.