Cuts Like An Angel (22 page)

Chapter Thirty

Josh

The murky water was shallow today, shallower than usual. Crisp packets and discarded pop cans floated gently on the surface, bumping at the edge. Why some people just threw their shit away and spoilt nature’s beauty. Josh had no idea. The water sloshed back.  There hadn't been any rains recently–not since that night at least. Josh slipped off his helmet and rested it on the handlebar of his bike before he strode over to the edge of the bridge. His head pounded so much that he was sure it was going to implode—his mind murky like the water with the trash floating at the edges bumping into his skull and making it hard for him to think. He needed some moments to himself. His mind racing with everything … Josh—William—the internal war that neither of them wanted to lose.

He gripped the stone wall, letting the jagged edges bite into his skin and sighed as he looked out along the brook. It was always the best views here, more so in the winter when the rains made the water rise and you couldn’t see the muddy embankment. It was even more magnificent when there was snow. He wondered if Rosie had been here then, if she had seen it. The brook went a long way, thinning in places, widening in others, but it never let anything get in the way. It went all the way along to where Maria lived—a quaint little house in the country. Perfect for her. Or it would have been if she bothered to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of it.  He wasn’t ready to go and see her yet. He needed time and energy.

Josh’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. He’d got a text when he was riding, but hadn't stopped for it.

Slow down.
The text read. Josh smiled, his heart warming. Rosie … He didn’t reply, though. He just needed his mind a little quiet at the moment, free from everything and everyone. Not that Rosie was a problem, far from it. She was the solution. He just needed to not screw it up.

“I’m okay,” he whispered to her putting his phone away. The relief inside him almost instant at that tiny bit of contact. He needed to give her some space too, though. Not come off like some weird crazy clingy ass. She was sweet, caring, but even that would have its limits. Yet as his phone pressed into his hip, it was hard to fight the niggle inside that just wanted the deeper connection with her, even if it was just a stupid text message.

She’ll be fine in a moment. She was at home cooking … at his home.

He sucked his breath in and shook off his stupidness. The view here was so different in the day … it was probably different at night too. Different from that night at least. He could still hear the sound of her voice—the difference in it. Something called to him that night when she had answered him. The voice of an angel coming to his rescue perhaps. He’d still jumped, though, hadn't he? She didn’t know that part. Didn’t know he’d spent a month in the room just opposite her, taking his meds, getting his therapy … being made into a somewhat normal citizen. He laughed at his own thoughts …
normal
. What the fuck was that? He was anything but normal.

He leaned over the railings, from here he could see the rippling reflection of himself. Not clear, he was too high up for that, but the way the shadows fell, let him see the faint outline of his head … of William’s head. He fixed a glare at the reflection, screwing up his eyes and making it morph into something else—someone else. If he closed his eyes long enough and wished hard enough, could he really just make himself change? He felt it was possible. Old childish thoughts coming to the forefront of his mind.

William had done that as a child hadn't he? Locked in the cupboard without a scrap to eat. Sitting in his own piss because it had been too long and he just couldn’t hold it anymore. He’d wished hard then, chanting, praying, whatever it needed to be called. He’d done it. Breathing so fucking hard that it had felt like just one more push and he would be there … somewhere else. It never worked, but he never stopped believing.

A strangled gasp came from Josh’s throat as a car zoomed past him, beeping their horn loudly and cheering before zooming off again in the other direction. The echo of them grew distant as idiots in their tuned up teeny car sped away and shattered the peaceful moment Josh had managed to carve for himself.

Except it hadn't been Josh’s peaceful moment had it? Fucking William. He’d snuck in and taken his mind again. Glancing at his watch. Shit. He’d been standing here a good thirty minutes with no idea what he had done. Where he had pushed his sleeve back to look at the time, he had smeared blood across the back of his hand. He turned his hand palm up. There was a gash across the centre of it, stinging the moment he realised it was there.
William
the dark cloak that he couldn’t shake off. If he could just eradicate him totally …

Jumping back on his bike, he pulled his helmet on again and drove along the main lane to Maria’s. Every foot he rode, weighed down on him … driving into darkness but not a darkness outside, one within him that weighted him down with every passing moment. She was the dark cloud in his life, and he had no idea how to pull himself from under it and not drown.

He cut the engine at the start of the path so not to make too much noise and wake her. Maybe she would be sleeping. God he hoped so, although if she was asleep, that would bring another call tomorrow when she would accuse him of not coming.

This place was more than she deserved, beautiful in all its landscapes, fresh lawns, newly varnished benches and the smell so sweet from the heather growing just off to the side. It was home grown summer–a breath of something beautiful that was hard to feel unhappy about if you stood long enough. Gravel crunched under Josh’s boots as he walked along the path. It often struck him as weird that. The gravel path. It would make more sense to have flags or concrete. Something to push the wheel chair along.

She was in the room at the front. She had her back to the window, but he’d know that matted blonde hair anywhere. It had been years since she had got it fixed up. Now it seemed like it had been years since she had even put a brush to it. She didn’t turn as he approached. The door was unlocked. He pushed it gently, trying not to set the chimes off above it that rang out when the door hit them. The first one twanged and he reached up to silence the others.

The pungent smell of death and piss greeted him the moment he opened her door. Wafting out in warm vulgarity that made his breath catch and his throat threaten to close. She was asleep. Her television was on, blaring out some useless television soap opera no doubt. But even with the loud sound, her snores rattled out throatily as she sat with her head back, mouth gaping.

He pushed the door closed with a soft click. There was nowhere to sit. The bed had bedding strewn in every direction and the tinge on the bed clothes suggested that the sheets hadn't been changed yet. The only spare chair was covered with clothes … reams of glittering material, pinks and blues, things that were long since out of fashion. Maria trying to hold onto who she wasn’t any more. In the corner was her chair.

He turned the television off. The loudness of it threating to pound his head into a wall if he stayed too long with it at that volume. Maria coughed when he did, sputtering. She wiped the corner of her mouth and scowled at him.

“What the fuck do you want?” she spat, drool forming at the corner of her mouth.

“You asked me to come,” he said. It was a mistake. He knew it would be.

“Why would I do something like that? Why would I want to see you? William …” she said his name in such a way that he cringed. It was like a vulgar word coming from her vicious mouth. “I don’t suppose you brought me my ice cream did you? Useless fucking shit you are.”

God. He had forgotten it. Driven right past the turn off that would have taken him to the little parlour. They made their own ice-cream there. If William actually liked he ice cream, he bet he would have liked theirs. “Maybe you have some left,” he offered. He had bought her plenty the last time he had come.

“No. I don’t. That fucking fag Paul eats it all. I've seen him. Sucking on that spoon.”

“You shouldn’t call him that,” William said. It grated against him every time she did. She hated everyone, then pissed and moaned that no one came. Did she really not know why?

“He is. Fag, fag, fag.” She cackled with laughter, ending with a choking cough and reaching for her glass off the small cluttered table next to her. She guzzled it down. “Fag, come ‘ere,” she yelled at the top of her voice.

Josh heard the sound of footsteps and then the door opened. Paul … he was older. Josh wasn’t sure if the man actually was a homosexual, but it made no difference to him. He could be whatever he wanted. “Yes?” Paul asked as he leaned in and gave Josh a roll of the eyes.

Yeah try dealing with this as long as he had.
Josh thought to himself.

“Do we got any of that ice-cream left or did you eat it all?”

Josh shrugged at him apologetically. “I can get some more if you’re out.”

“We’re not,” Paul said. “You know we have a tub of it. You told me you didn’t want it.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Maria …”

Maria scowled at Josh. “Fuck you. Don’t you come in here …”

Josh turned to Paul. “Sorry,” he said. He waved him to leave and then closed the door behind him.

“How’s your little bitch?” Maria asked, reaching over for her silver box. Well it wasn’t silver any more, that had worn off long ago. Now it was tatty and old, but she still insisted on keeping her cigarettes in them. Along with the black tips so that the nicotine didn’t stain her fingers.

“She’s fine,” he said. “She isn’t a bitch. He reached over and grabbed the lighter to light her cigarette, snatching his hand back quickly before she grabbed for him. He hated when she touched him. She was different now. Haggard—old beyond her actual years. She’d let herself go that was for sure. Did she not realise that she was the reason no one wanted her, not even him?

“Does she know about me?”

“No,” he said instantly.

Maria gave a slight side smile, one that curled the corner of her mouth.

“What?”

The smile grew, showing yellowed teeth. “I’m coming to stay with you,” she said. “Tell your little bitch that. See if she likes it.”

“What? No. You can’t …” Josh stomach fucking rolled inside. No. This was impossible. She couldn’t mess this up for him now.

“I can and I will. You made vows to me William. You have to keep them.”

“No.”

“Yes …” She leaned forward in her seat. She might struggle to walk, but her range of movement was good on the top of her body. She inhaled her cigarette and then breathed out the smoke in a long drawn out breath. Sometimes when Josh would watch her do that, he could see the way her expression softened. But not right now. Now it seemed to harden. She held her hand out to him.

Josh stepped back. “Things have changed.”

Maria shrugged. “I don’t care. You’re mine William, not hers. Not properly. You know that. Oh these little bitches can get their piece can't they? But they can never have you fully.”

“I’ll say no.”

“Then you know what will happen don’t you?”

“I can’t …”

She waved him away. “I don’t care what you can't do. Useless fucking shit you are. She’ll get sick of you soon. You know that. She’ll use you, screw you. Probably get herself pregnant and then claim child support of you till you’re bled dry for some brat you don’t want.”

“There’ll never be any children. I don’t want them.”

“No, but these women do. They all do. You watch. You’ll come running back begging forgiveness.”

“No.”

“Go get my fucking ice-cream.”

Josh exhaled slowly and deeply, grounding his jaw so damn tight that it made his temple throb. He clenched his fist to his side. He didn’t believe in hitting women, but shit …

“Don’t just stand there, you useless piece of ...”

He turned before she could finish. Walked back out of her room. Paul was in the hallway. Both men met gazes, an exchange of knowing and beaten looks between them. Josh wanted to tell Paul he was sorry, but he wasn’t. Maria was someone else’s problem right now.

“She wants ice-cream,” Josh said. “Tell her I said goodbye.”

He left quickly before he could change his mind and try to reason with her. His blood bubbled under his skin, hot and fiery and ready to spill out in a moment. Bitch. She always did this kind of shit. She was the stain on his life that he couldn’t wash out or colour over.

He marched to his bike, but by the time he got there, his legs and arms were shaking so violently that he knew he couldn’t go home yet. He just couldn’t face it. He raced across the road where the brook ran and widened. This was where it fed into the main river. He ran over to it, to where the trees were, and before he could think, he launched a fist into the bark of one of the old trees, his knuckles cracking with the impact of it. He didn’t feel the pain of it, though. Maria’s words surged through his veins. Her maliciousness. She didn’t need to stay with him. It would be lies; she just didn’t want to let him go. Why couldn’t she listen that it was over?

He pressed his face into the tree, pressing the uneven ridges of the trunk into his forehead and screaming so deeply into it that the wildlife would probably think there was some kind of wounded bear in their woods.  He let himself slump against it, landing in the dirt. He pulled his legs up to himself, resting his head against his knees, and letting his eyes close.