Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes (20 page)

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“
Is
dad
home?”

“
Ellie
down the road came to post the
Avon
book
while I was collecting the paper. I've told her before I don't need
one; it's not like I ever buy anything from there. I know they sell
nice stuff for cheap, but what am I going to use mascara for, hey?
She said 'keep it, you never know when you'll need new lippy for a
night on the town'.”

“
Mum?”

Judging
by her babbling and change of clothes, she has come out her
dissociation. What he is now witnessing is lovely, but it is
deceptive joy. He knows when the masquerade slips, it leaves only
depression in its wake. That tears Bobby apart each time he witnesses
it, unknown to his mother.

Pulling
the pastel dressing gown across her slender waist, she nods and heads
back into the kitchen. She may have the energy to throw on new
clothes, but he doubts she's had a bath. Her hair is scruffy and
knotted either side of her face with more grey streaks he hadn't
noticed yesterday.

“
Well,
Ellie was saying I should get Theo to watch you while I throw on my
heels and go dancing with the girls like old times.”

Following
his mother into the kitchen, he comes to an abrupt stop as she ceases
walking and stares out the window. As he touches her upper arm, he
moves to the side and notes how she doesn't flinch at all now.

It's
like she is too wrapped up in her thoughts to bother.

“
Mum,
what about dad?”

“
S
he
said it'd be good if he weren't drunk in the pub all the time like he
is now. She said perhaps I should teach him a lesson by 'getting off'
with someone myself.”

Bobby's
eyes widen, but she doesn't notice as she watches the blackbird on
the garden fence.

“
Any
idea what that means?”

“
I
don't know. You know what women are like—they all bitch.”

“
Careful,
you're starting to sound like him,” she comments in a
dismissive manner.

“
I
don't mean it like that. I just mean they like to gossip and don't
care about their friends' feelings. They're only interested in
outdoing one another, and when they can't, they retaliate by any
means.”

“
And
you believe that, Bobby?”

Dropping
his head, Bobby wonders what he can say to make anything sound
better.

Anything
but the truth.

“
It's
okay, Bobby. I've known for years.”

What
his mother admits doesn't come as a shock, although he fakes
disbelief. Of course she knows, she always has which makes sense.

No
wonder she is the way she is.

Every
time his father gets a new shirt she knows; his appearance didn't
bother him while Benji was around.

But
it makes no sense. Why stay with a man that does that and doesn't
even have the cheek to cover it with flowers, or compliments and
lies?

Bobby
sure can't understand.

“
It's
okay, Bobby.”

No,
it's not okay.

Bobby
feels like screaming until that unwanted croak hits his throat, but
he doesn't.
Instead,
h
e
remains stoic and unmoved.

“
I'm
going to lie down, Bobby. Are you okay to get your dinner?” His
mother strokes his face, cupping both sides within her hands.
“Everything will work out for the best, you'll see.”

She
smiles as she drops her fragile wrists, yet the smile appears to be
directed at something he cannot see.

Grabbing
the banister, she ascends as peacefully as a spirit on the journey to
heaven. Once her bedroom door closes, Bobby bounds out the door with
an anger he hopes will fade before he reaches his destination.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Bobby
calms as he takes the scenic route over the park and through the
field to avoid Jack and his gang. Walking through the untamed grass
of daisies and buttercups has that effect. But the moment he reaches
the garage that calmness disintegrates as he spots his father across
the road.

At
the bench, shaded by a green and yellow umbrella, his father has his
legs spread either side of the wooden seat. His jeans ride up his
ankles to expose his filthy socks and the cap he wears is in
tatters—not a great look.

The
woman sitting opposite him on the bench doesn't seem to mind. Judging
by her wild cackling, she is just as drunk.

Either
that, or she is humouring him.

After
waiting for a green
BMW
to pass, Bobby crosses over the road
to reach them before they spot him. Although, his father appears to
be too enthralled by the woman to notice anything else anyway. The
object of his desire are the woman's sagging breasts that jiggle
inside her vest as she laughs.

“
Well,
what they don't know won't hurt them,” she says as Bobby comes
up beside them.

Bobby
glances at the red, bobble nosed man with thick veins on his worn and
rough cheeks. He wonders how his father can be brazen enough to be
out here in full view while committing adultery. That thought, mixed
with the bitter stench of beer, makes the contents of his stomach
rise into his throat.

The
woman does a double take when she realises someone is standing beside
her. In her state, her expression would be comical if he didn't
recognised her. Although heavier, with fat spilling out from any gap
possible, he knows her like an auntie. She came round every morning
to have coffee with his mother after him and Benji left for school.
He would find them laughing in the kitchen when he was ill, or on
school holiday. They loved talking about clothes, shoes, make-up and
men—everything his mother used to love. What they hadn't
discussed was his father's sleeping arrangement. Hell, her husband
used to be a good mate to his father; he would drop around for
barbecues sometimes.

“
You
scared me, Bobby,” she laughs as she fans her face. “You
okay, son?”

Before
Bobby can contain himself, all care goes out the invisible window
with that word—s
on.

“
I'm
not your son!”

So
this is his latest squeeze.

“
This
isn't as it sounds, Bobby. Your dad and I were just—”

“
How
could you do this again?”

To
avoid the blazing eyes, he has to revert his own. Bobby almost
musters a slither of pity for the display his father is giving.
Later, once he has sucked down more poison, he will be a nasty piece
of work.

A
piece of work I've never had the courage to confront. Until now.

Maybe
tonight will be different if he comes home, but it is difficult not
to glimpse the man he used to be right now. He may never have put him
first, but he wasn't all bad.

It's
all just a damn act, remember that.

“
Your
father's had too much to drink.”

What
a surprise.

“
I'll
help you get him home.” As the woman rises, the fat roll
hanging over the waist of her leggings becomes less obvious. She
slips her leg free of the table with her pale ankles on show in white
sandals. Bobby notices his mother once had a pair similar.

They
went missing months back. Did he give her them?

“
No
you won't,” Bobby exclaims louder than he should.

The
volume draws people's attention from the other tables, and they turn
to stare.

“
Back
off.”

“
Son,
you will not get him up the road all by yourself.”

“
I'm
not taking him home, and neither are you. Don't come near my house
again. My mum trusted you! And stop calling me son. No matter how
much you screw my dad, you'll never be half the woman she is.”
Lost in anger, with his fists clenched at his side, he cannot
understand who this person is.

This
isn't me.

This
is what people turn you into, Bobby.

“
Bobby,
you have no idea what has happened between—”

“
Don't
condescend me, you slapper.”

The
woman's face recoils. Yet, the expression quickly turns shrewd and
her features scrunch together.
“
Believe
me, I don't want to be that crazy bitch,” she retaliates and
turns to his father with a grin.

How
can she be so cruel about her? If she is crazy, it's only because he
made her that way!

When
she speaks again, her tone changes from cruel to seductive. “I'll
see you later, handsome.”

She
would grab his cheeks and tell him he was a “little cutie”
when he was younger.

Was
it all just an act?

Across
the road, movement captures his attention away from the chubby woman.
He spots bulky figures tearing across the road from the pavement to
his right. One rides through a yellow
Beetle
as it drives
past. The muscular leg stomps through the elderly woman in the
passenger seat and passes through the bonnet, leaving her unscathed.

Bobby
misses the hooves that come crashing through the table beside him by
jolting backwards. The figure passes through his father and the woman
without leaving a scratch. Despite the speed it rushes past him, he
feels nothing as though only a ghost has slipped past.

The
bulky body of fur, which stretches into a twisted human upper body,
turns to a pair of teenagers. They lean in towards each other as they
peer at a mobile between them, oblivious to what stands before them.

Without
realising his mouth hangs ajar, he watches as the muscular arm raises
what looks like a flail made of bone and swings it through their
heads. Although the motion doesn't even ruffle their hair, the
brutality it uses makes Bobby snap his eyes closed.

It
is easy to imagine the blood spitting out from the girl with the
beaming smile's split head. He can visualise crimson staining her
straw coloured locks, and the imaginary sight is hideous. He can hear
the girl beside her screaming until it becomes painful in her throat,
yet she doesn't even open her mouth. Her pleading continues to ring
in his ears though as she stumbles backwards, trips off the curb and
falls into the road. But as he stares at the masked creature, Bobby
can see the sky coming through the demented form's head, and its
transparent body fills him with relief.