An Imperfect Circle (31 page)

Ian has barely moved. I can almost see his brain working overtime, thinking over every single way in which their lives have just changed.

He’s ignoring his own pain to concentrate on the small things. Who will pay the bills now? Who will keep the family together? Who will do the laundry? Who will lead them? Who will be there to walk Jamie-Lea down the aisle?

I watch as the weight of responsibility falls upon his shoulders and it should be backbreaking. I can’t even begin to think of the consequences. What if the family gets split up? What if some of them end up in care? What if they never recover from this
?

I shake my head because I need to focus. This isn’t my loss, it’s theirs. I’m almost intruding on a private family moment but these guys are my family too and I need to be there for them.

There’s nothing I can do but share their pain and try to be here in whatever way I can.

I listen to Karl telling Jake that Andrew is in heaven with Helen now and I swallow when I hear Jake asking why.

Why?

There’s no good answer to that. At least not one I can think off.

“Because Daddy missed Mummy every day. He loved her with all his heart,” he looks up at me briefly as he speaks and I know that he fully believes his words. I know they’re true as well because I remember the way they loved each other.

“
He had to go back to her because being without her was too hard for him. Just remember that Dad loved you. We’ll get through this, Jakey. All of us together. We’ll make Dad proud.”

Peter squeezes Karl’s shoulder and nods in a show of solidarity. The twins are literally holding each other up and it’s painful to see them without
their usual cheeky smiles and lust for life.

They gather round with the youngest three in the middle and hold each other, the whole family. I squeeze in between Karl and Matt and hold their hands. One of theirs in each of mine.

We’re quiet as we hold each other. A silent promise hangs in the air. This family will make it through the period of darkness. They’ve survived one loss, they can survive another.

They’ll get through this and bear
the massive weight of pain as a unit of solidarity. It would be near-impossible for an individual but they’ll share it because they’re a family and that’s what families do.

I get my wish but I guess that's proof you should be careful what you wish for.

Karl and I
get to spend the night together in his bed.

We aren't alone; Jake's asleep in the room with us because he fell asleep in Karl's arms and we didn't want to move him too far in case he woke up and started crying again.

I think it was a relief to all of us when the smallest members of the family finally drifted off.

Karl, on the other hand, is definitely not sleeping. He's holding me against his chest and I can feel his slow breathing and the rise and fall of his chest against mine. I know he's awake because every now and then his body will shake gently and he'll pull me closer.

I don't know what's going through his brain but I can imagine and it’s not pretty. It's probably about a gazillion times worse than what's going through mine and that hurts enough as it is.

I can almost feel the way h
e alternates between determined resolve and utter hopelessness and I wish there was something - anything - I could do to help him.

I try and stay awake in case he needs me but exhaustion wins out and I drift off a few times. Every time I wake up, there’s that blissful second where my brain hasn’t had a chance to remember what’s happened
before the pain all rushes back in and I have to relive it all over again.

Maybe it’s for the best that Karl hasn’t managed to sleep because I wouldn’t wish that on him.

I know something’s changed by the look in his eyes when he finally rolls up to sitting at six the following morning. I guess the six o’ clock rising is programmed into their blood because I can hear Ian up and about as well.

I study his face furiously, desperate for a glimpse of anything that will explain the expression on his face. It’s a kind of bitter resolve and I almost shiver with the intensity of it.

It singes my skin in a way that’s nearly painful and I have to force myself not to look away as he meets my gaze. The exchange is only a split second long before Karl turns away and rakes his hands over his face, kneading his knuckles against his tired eyeballs.

It’s the same gesture he does when he’s at the end of his tether with reading but I know this is far, far worse.

I go to put my hand on his shoulder but he’s on his feet before I get a chance.

“
Karl-” I start, my voice half broken from tears shed and sleep missed.

“
Kids need breakfast,” he grunts with little to no emotion in his voice. That’s not my Karl.

I repress my scowl considering the circumstances and follow him down the stairs to help make breakfast.

“Jamie has raisins in hers,” Karl snaps, grabbing the bowl out of my hand before I can finish making her breakfast.

I know that and I was just about to put them in if he’d given me half a chance. I
bite back an acid retort because I’m well aware that I’m upset about Andrew and I’d probably overreact if I spoke.

I also know that’s what he’s doing.

“She’s only trying to help, Karl,” Ian levels a glare at his brother. I can’t tell if he sounds sympathetic or threatening but Karl obviously doesn’t care because he doesn’t respond.

Matt doesn’t even eat breakfast. He shoulders his way out the door without so much as a glance at us and I watch him disappear down the driveway with a football under his arm, wearing just some shorts and his trainers. I know he’s going to the nearest football pitch to lose himself in the game and I’m glad he’s got something that will help him work through this pain.

“Let’s eat,” Peter manages a weak smile, scooping up Jake and placing him in his usual place at the table.

When Ian goes to sit in his seat, Peter stops him.

“That’s not where you should be sitting, son.”

We all understand what he means when his eyes rest on the seat where Andrew normally sits.

I see Ian’s eyes widen fractionally and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked horrified at the idea.

Ian shakes his head adamantly, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I’m not suggesting you replace your father, boy,” Peter’s gravelly voice deepens an octave. “Nobody can ever replace him. I’m saying that he would want you sat there. At the head of this family. You’ve been doing a damn fine job of it over the past few years, you might as well make it official.”

“
That’s dad’s chair,” Ian shakes his head again, albeit less firmly than before.

“
Dad wouldn’t have wanted it going empty,” Karl answers decisively and I know he believes his words.

“
It’s what Andrew what have wanted,” Peter confirms with a barely audible crack in his voice.

Ian just nods once and looks round at the rest of his family sat around the table. My gaze follows his and catches on the twins and their matching looks of despair. It’s obvious they need somebody to step up and Ian is the natural choice.

I know Karl and I know that right now he’s feeling an immense sense of relief that Ian is there to fill the role. He’d have done it without complaint but I know that the idea terrifies him, even if he won’t admit it.

I also know that he hates himself for thinking that and he’s comparing himself to Ian again and thinks he’s coming up short.

It’s the reason he’s not going into the military, even though he wants to. He doesn’t want to be second best to Ian again. Second born. Second best. That’s the way he sees it.

And it’s honestly the closest he’s come to actually being stupid.

This isn’t the time or place to explain this to him so instead I just squeeze his hand under the table.

It takes a second but eventually he squeezes back, albeit without meeting my eye.

Much of the food goes untouched, which is always a stark sign that something is drastically wrong in the Carter house but I set about washing the dishes regardless.

Jamie-Lea settles herself by my side with a tea towel in hand without even being asked. I see the way she watches her brother
s and sees their pain. I’m still not sure she fully grasps what’s happened but I can see how much it upsets her that her brothers are sad.

“
Let me do that,” Karl tries to manoeuvre himself in front of me and take over.

I hold my ground because I’m perfectly capable of doing the dishes.

“Elise,” he growls.

“
Stop it, Karl. I can do this,” I warn him, keeping my voice low so that the others don’t hear us.

“
For fuck’s sake, Elise, just let me do it.”

I scowl but it occurs to me that maybe he needs to do something to keep himself busy and stay out of his head so I reluctantly take a step back and let him replace me.

“Finally,” he grumbles with an exasperated sigh.

It would have been fine if he’d kept quiet. Really it would. But the frustrating dung beetle just had to open his mouth.

He knows I have a short fuse. I’m tired, hurt, upset, and barely maintaining my temper as it is. I tried. I really did.

“
Stop being an ass,” I snap, giving him a hard shove.

He barely moves but I see the last of his resolve break away. Whatever it was that was going on in his brain this morning is at the forefront of his m
ind again and it’s running the show.

“
Well excuse me,” he barks. “My dad just fucking died I’m entitled to be an ass.”

I can’t believe he just used that as an excuse. It’s despicable and I’m pretty sure Andrew would have agreed.

“Karl!” Peter barks from the other side of the kitchen. His tone of voice is quite rightly affronted.

I see Karl wince for a microsecond but it does nothing to lessen his anger and it’s all aimed at me.

Jamie scuttles out of the way and into her grandfather’s arms. Peter whisks the rest of the family out of the room, seemingly understanding that the two of us need to talk.

“
Just go home, Elise.” His voice comes out in a cold whisper. I expected him to be screaming in fury but the detached whisper is so much worse.

“
What?” I almost stammer, completely caught off guard.

“
You heard me,” he answers, turning his back on me and continuing with the dishes like nothing happened.

“
You can’t just dismiss me,” I screech. “It doesn’t work like that, Karl. I get that you’re hurting, we all are but-”

“
You don’t get it, Elise!” He yells cutting me off. He’s turned around to face me and we’re toe to toe.

The usual alluring scent of cinnamon
and wood stain is absent, repressed by the sheer weight of the fury I can feel choking the air around us.

“
Both my parents are dead. Gone. We’ll never see them again. I don’t want you here and I don’t need you here.”

“
Karl,” I choke. “I want to be here for you.”

“
Well I don’t want you here. Did you think of that?” He spits his venomous words, grabbing my arms and physically forcing me back a step to increase the distance between us.

It’s the first time in a long while that I’m actually grateful for the space between us. Every syllable out of his mouth is stripping flesh from bone.

I’m not going to let him make me cry but the effort of keeping it together is almost too much.

“
Fine,” I spit. “I’ll go but I’ll never forgive you for making me.”

“
I’m not asking for your forgiveness, darlin’. I’m not asking for you for anything. I’m telling you to leave. Now.”

I clench my teeth and resist urge to punch him in the jaw because it won’t help no matter how tempting it is.

“Go,” he growls when I hold my ground because I refuse to be intimidated.

I’m about to issue a snarky response when comprehension dawns and I understand that look in his eyes. It’s acceptance. It’s dismissal. It’s a decision being made.

“You’re ending us,” I whisper. It’s not a question because I already know it’s true.

I think I see regret in his eyes but its quickly replaced by resolution and the anger that’s consuming him.

“Slow to catch on today,” he snaps, snarling at me in a way that is so very unlike my Karl.

He’s not my Karl right now. Maybe not ever again based on this exchange
which is essentially a verbal version of a punch to the gut.

“
You don’t mean that,” I say but with less certainty than I’d like.

I normally know what he’s thinking. I can normally feel it. But there is nothing normal about this situation.
I’ve been witness to the way Karl can intimidate those around him but he’s never intimidated me before. Not until now.

“
Leave.” He repeats, his voice a menacing growl.

“
No,” I say adamantly.

“
For fuck’s sake. For once in your life, stop being so fucking stubborn and open your eyes.” This time he is shouting and it’s terrifying on a whole new level.

He’s never shouted at me like this before and despite my best efforts, a couple of tears escape down my face.

“You’re the last person we need around us right now. Our parents are both dead and you’re so fucked up, you can’t even bring yourself to hug your own mum. So do us all a favour and fuck off, Ellie.”

He’s said the most hurtful thing he possibly could. He knows that I haven’t hugged my mum in years. He knows how difficult physical contact has been for me and he knows why.

That’s not the low blow though. The low blow is hearing him call me Ellie when he’s the one that brought Elise back to me.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve already slapped him across the face hard enough to leave a nasty red imprint.

I only get a second to admire my handiwork before I’m out the door, oblivious to the fact that I’m still wearing my pyjamas.

This is the second time in my life I find myself running away from that house. Only this time, it hurts far more.

Because this time, I know there were things I could have changed. Things I could have down differently.

But I didn’t. I let him reject me all over again and I let him try to destroy me.

And he might have succeeded.

I’m half way down the road when Ian catches up with me. He grabs my shoulder gently and eases me to a stop. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m crying and snotty but he does know that I need a hug.

That’s Blossom’s fault; she got me started on hugs. I’ve not hugged Ian since I was a child and even then it was only an excuse to put mud down his jumper.

It feels strange but familiar. It’s nothing like hugging Karl but it makes me feel safer regardless. I guess that’s just Ian.

“He loves you,” he whispers as he lets me go. “He’s just upset.”

“I’m upset too,” I sniffle. “But what he said was horrible.”

“I know,” Ian frowns and I suspect he’s been slowly piecing together my history from odds and ends and he’s not far off understanding. “Give him time, Elise. He’s not in a good place right now.”