Page 27 of Conflict

“I don’t know how he is, Mike said he’ll let me know when the family gets in touch. The young lad was clung to him, begging me to do something,” a rogue tear escapes and I swiftly sweep it away. “Anyway, the ambulance was pretty quick and they got him to the hospital. I freaked out a bit afterwards and needed a drink.” I can see the worry escalating in my mother so I add, “Don’t worry, it was just a couple of drinks. I’m not in the same place I was a few weeks ago.”

She nods as she breathes out a sigh of relief, “Drink isn’t always the answer though,” when I go to butt in, she holds her hand up to halt me. “I’m not lecturing you. I just want to help you figure out your way back. I’m scared you’ll go too far again and I’ll lose you, too. I don’t know how best to help you; I’ve never dealt with anyone with depression before or this trauma response, it’s all new and very frightening for me. I just hope you know that I’ll always be here for you.”

Reaching forwards, I pull her into a hug and squeeze her tightly. “I tried to ring Scarlett a few times but she’s not answering my calls, can’t say I blame her really.” I mutter over my mum’s shoulder. “I thought if I could speak to her, I’d be able to talk through it all and make sense of it. It hurt when she didn’t answer but I’ve only got myself to blame. I hurt her a lot, and I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to her.”

My mother frees herself from my grasp and holds me at arm’s length, “She’s gone on holiday with Rachel. Julie told methe other day but asked me not to tell you, they’re worried about her and didn’t want you getting in touch until Scarlett’s ready to talk to you.” Her voice is apologetic and I’m pretty sure the look on my face tells her how devastated I am. “I should have told you,” She looks down at her lap as she speaks quietly. “I didn’t know what to do for the best, so…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s my own fault. I just needed to hear her voice last night. But I get why she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

My mother huffs out a breath, “You see, that’s why you shouldn’t get in touch with her.” Mum waits a heartbeat to assess my reaction and when she’s met with my confusion she carries on. “Scarlett isn’t there for you to use as an emotional crutch to get through the bad times, however hard that is for me to say, and for you to hear. She deserves more than that, son.” Internally, I collapse. The realisation of what I’ve done hits hard, proving Dr Monroe right all those weeks ago.

“I… That’s not…” my breathing has become erratic and laboured.

My mother places her hand on my cheek, “Breathe, Jamie.” The calmness in her voice centres me, and my shoulders relax, allowing air to enter my lungs freely. “I know that was never your intention, but that’s what’s happened. I’m just as much to blame as anyone, though.” There’s a sadness in her voice now as she speaks. “I was just so happy that you two were finally seeing each other, that I pushed aside the fact that it was too soon for both of you. My baby boy was happy again, you were smiling and enjoying life, at least that’s what I thought. Now, I can see it wasn’t the right time. You need to make sure your feelings for Scarlett are real, in a romantic sense I mean. If they are, then you have a lot of work to do to gain her forgiveness.”

“When does she get back?” My mother’s words haven’t fallen on deaf ears, far from it. They’ve given me the metaphorical slap that I needed.

“Tomorrow, I think, but you can’t expect her to speak to you. You need to give her time, love. And I’m not sure how long she’s going to need, you’ll have to let her heal first.” Mum stands and brushes down her dress, smoothing out the creases it’s gained from sitting on the bed. “Now, get up and showered. You stink,” she winks at me before she walks towards my bedroom door. “And then maybe you should ring Mike, find out how that man is doing. If it’s bad news, we’ll deal with it together.” She pulls the door closed and heads downstairs.

As I step out of the shower my phone rings. Mike’s name flashes on the screen and I scramble to answer it. “Hey, how are you doing today?” His voice is deep and confident. I spend a moment trying to decide if there’s any hint of sadness within in his tone. I’m not sure there is but I’m not taking anything for granted.

“Is there any news on Ben?” I ask, dismissing that he asked how I was doing.

There’s a lightness in Mike’s voice as he answers, “It was quite a bad heart attack apparently, but he’s stable and on a ward now,” all of the air rushes from my lungs as relief washes over me and joy flushes my veins. “Josh’s mum rang this morning; it was touch and go for a while she said but when she rang the ward this morning he was eating breakfast. She asked me to thank you for all that you did.”

“I didn’t do anything; it was the paramedics that saved him. But I’m glad he’s okay. Did she say how Josh is?” Gratitude doesn’t sit well with me; it never has done.

“You did more than you think, and you were calm in the moment. That helped Josh massively. She said he didn’t want to leave the hospital last night until he knew how his grandad was. Can you imagine having to tell your child that someone they loved and looked up had died?” I can almost hear Mike shudder. “Thankfully, it was good news. Anyway, if you’re not up to thematch on Saturday, don’t worry. It’s a home game, I can tell the lads you’re not well or something.”

Reneging on my responsibilities is not a part of my make-up. The Army beat that into us over the years. We had a responsibility not only to ourselves, but to everyone on our team. Lives depended on us. “Thanks, but I’ll be there on Saturday.”

CHAPTER 38

SCARLETT

As the plane hits the tarmac and rumbles towards the terminal, I’m both relieved and sad to be back. Rachel is out of her seat quicker than a rabbit out of a magician’s hat, dragging our carry-on’s down from the overhead locker. Standing, I stretch and cover a yawn with my hand. The flight has been short but it’s late and I’m tired, and my bed is calling to me. We somehow manage to sail through passport control and are standing in the taxi pick-up point within the hour, waiting for the Uber Rachel booked the minute we stepped into the airport terminal.

Rachel insists on dropping me home first, so as I make my way up the front garden path, I blow her a quick kiss and wave before I turn and unlock the front door. Hyper aware of the time, I tiptoe up the stairs, avoiding every memorised creaky step from my childhood, and into my bedroom, praying the door doesn’t squeak as I ease it shut. The last thing I want to do is wake my parents, I’ve missed them so much, but there’ll be plenty of time for to catch up in the morning. Foregoing a shower, I drag clean pyjamas out of my drawer and put them on, then I climb into bed. My phone beeps with a messagenotification, it’s Rachel telling me she’s home safe. Instantly, I tap out a quick response.

Thanks for a fab holiday. We should make it a yearly thing, our thing xx

And then I switch my phone off and snuggle down under the duvet. It’s not long until sleep drags me under. It’s not long until I’m dreaming of being back on the beach, sipping on cocktails and dipping my toes in the water.

The smell of hot, buttered toast drags me from the depths of my dreams and I turn over in bed to find my mum trying to sneak back out of my room quietly. “I’m awake,” my voice is sleep heavy as I push myself up to sit, and reach for the tea she’s also brought me. “Thank you, I’ve been craving a good cup of tea for days.” The hot, sweet tea tastes like heaven as it soothes my sleep dried throat.

“You’ve caught the sun, it’s brought your freckles out,” Mum points out before she reaches in for a hug. My freckles have been the bane of my life since forever. Tom and Jamie used to tease me so much about them, Tom even tried to join them up with a pen once when we were little, I looked like a dot-to-dot picture gone wrong. I remember Mum being really cross with him as she spent hours scrubbing the ink from my face. “I’ve missed you. Did you have fun?” There’s a moment of nodding as I cram toast into my mouth. “Good, well I’ll leave you to get up when you’re ready, no rush,” she says as she gets up to leave. “But your dad is struggling with the crossword. In fact, I don’t think he’s finished one while you’ve been away.” Mum chuckles as she closes the door and heads downstairs.

I have every intention of getting up but the tea and toast is too good, and my bed is too comfortable. And somehow, sleep envelops me again as I slide back under the duvet. Unsure ofhow long I’ve been asleep, I’m jolted awake by raised voices coming from downstairs. “No, I’m not going to wake her just because you want to talk to her. She didn’t get in until very late last night,” my dad’s voice is firm, but I can hear from his intonation that he’s not happy.

“But she’s not answering my calls, I just want to see her and apologise. Please, don’t make me beg.” Recognition hits instantly. It’s Jamie. He sounds frustrated and upset, and my heart twinges a little. There’s a moment’s contemplation where I feel I need to rescue my dad and go speak to Jamie, but that’s soon quashed when my dad speaks again.

“Look son, you know we love you like one of our own, but the way you’ve treated my daughter has shocked me. You’ve let us down, Jamie, lad.” My dad pauses for a moment before he carries on. “I thought better of you. We expected better of you. I told Julia our girl would be safe with you, that you’d look after her and not break her heart. I couldn’t have been more wrong, could I?” I’ve crept out of bed now and I’m perched on the top of landing, just out of sight, but I can just about see Jamie in the kitchen doorway from this angle. He looks ashen, his features are pinched and tight, and he’s rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He opens his mouth to speak but thinks better of it. “I’ve never been one to interfere in my children’s lives, but you understand why I won’t go get her, don’t you? We’ve lost one child; I am not about to let you break the other one.” There’s and audible gasp and I’m unsure whether it came from me, Jamie or my mum, who’s now appeared beside my dad. “Now, if she’s not answering your calls, I’d take that as she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Dad takes a step forward, his hand firmly gripping the door handle. “Maybe she’ll forgive you in time, if you’re lucky. But for now, leave her be, let her get on with her life.” Slowly, my dad inches the kitchen door closed, shutting Jamie out of the house.

Dad turns to my mum, and she falls into his arms with a sob. “It feels like losing Tom all over again,” my mother speaks through broken tears. “I love that boy, so much.”

Dad huffs as he rubs his hand up and down Mum’s back. “So do I, but he’s hardly a boy now, he’s an adult, and he needs to know the boundaries and accept responsibility for what he’s done to our daughter. I couldn’t protect Tom, but I can protect Scarlett, and you can rest assured that’s what I’m going to do until I take my last breath.” I sit and watch my parents hold each other for what seems like an age, before I creep back to my room and cry a little.

For Tom, for me and for my parents.

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