Page 45 of The New House

The only time he bothers with Meddie’s cat is when he wants to torment her. I know exactly why he broke into the man’s house: like mother, like son.

But Peter isten.

‘You thought the cat was in the fridge?’ I ask sardonically.

‘I was looking to see if there was any cream,’ Peter says. ‘I thought Pumpkin might come out from wherever she was hiding if I put some out for her.’

‘I’m sure the boy didn’t mean any harm,’ Mr Mitchell says, releasing Peter.

Tom clamps his arm around our son’s shoulder and pulls him close. ‘I can’t apologise enough for Peter’s behaviour,’ he says. ‘We’re so grateful to you for bringing him back safely, Mr Mitchell, and for not taking this any further. I promise you, we’ll be having a serious talk with our son once we’ve all got some sleep. You’d better apologise to Mr Mitchell, Peter,’ he adds. ‘You must have given him the fright of hislife. And we’ll be thinking of ways our boy can make this up to you, Mr Mitchell. I’m sure he’d be happy to do your weeding for the rest of the summer, for a start.’

‘I don’t think there’s any need for—’

‘Tom’s right,’ I say. ‘Peter has to learn actions have consequences.’

‘I’m just glad the boy’s all right,’ Mr Mitchell says. ‘I wouldn’t want any child of mine wandering the streets in the middle of the night.’

‘I’m really sorry, Mr Mitchell,’ Peter says, eyes wide. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’

Oh, but hedid.

‘All’s well that ends well,’ our neighbour says cheerfully. ‘I shouldn’t have left that window open in the first place. Invitation to burglars. Lesson learned. I’m lucky it was you and not an axe-murderer, eh, Peter?’

Tom apologises to the man again, and closes the door.

‘Get to bed,’ he tells Peter through gritted teeth.

Peter bounces up the stairs, a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s still on an adrenaline high, too buzzed to give a damn about the trouble he’s in.

Despite what I’ve just said, I know it doesn’t matter how we punish Peter: he’ll never learnactions have consequences. When most children do something that makes their parents sad or angry, they observe that reaction and feel bad about it: it’s how they learn to feel guilt. But Peter has zero regard for the feelings of others and is therefore unable to internalise social emotions like shame.

The only thing he’ll learn from this is that he can get away with it.

Tom goes into the kitchen and puts a coffee pod into the machine. ‘Unbelievable,’ he says tightly.

‘How d’you want to handle it?’ I ask.

‘Ground him. Take away his phone. Handcuff him to the bed.’ He lifts his hands. ‘Jesus, I don’t know.’

‘Grounding him’s the worst thing we can do,’ I say.

‘Then what do you suggest?’

‘I don’t have all the answers, Tom.’

‘We’re lucky it was Mitchell’s place he broke into,’ Tom says. ‘He’s a decent man. If it’d been anyone else’s home we’d be in trouble. It’s a good thing we lost out on that Glass House, Millie. I told you, Peter needs stability. The last thing we should do is uproot him now.’

I throw Tom’s coffee pod in the recycling bin and insert a new one for myself.

‘It doesn’t matter if we stay here or move to Timbuktu,’ I say. ‘Peter isn’t going to change. He can’t help it. It’s just the way he’s wired.’

‘Bullshit! It’s nothing to do with the way he’swired,Millie! Stop making excuses for him. The only reason our son is breaking into people’s houses is because he thinks he can get away with it!’

‘It’s not his fault if he’s inherited—’

‘Christ, Millie!’ Tom explodes. ‘Enough with the psycho shit! You had a shitty childhood and shitty parents, that’s all! So, you have baggage. What’s Peter’s excuse?’

He doesn’t wait for an answer. I watch him as he storms out of the kitchen, slopping coffee from his mug onto the pale wood floor as he goes. Automatically I pick up a sponge and mop the spills before they stain.

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