Heartless (5 page)

Chapter Six

Bernie was in her element fussing over her son. Ever since they had brought him home from the hospital she had made sure that he had stayed tucked up in bed, while she fetched him bowls of soup and big mugs of his favourite hot chocolate. The dreadful phone call two days ago from the hospital had left her shaking with fright and even though she knew that she should be furious that Tommy and Jonathan had bunked off school in the first place, she couldn’t help but feel anything other than relief that her boy was now okay.

“Lean forward, darling,” Bernie instructed as she fluffed up Tommy’s pillows for the fifth time that afternoon.

Tommy did as he was told, knowing that where his mother was concerned it was just easier that way.

Jonathan, sprawled out on his bed opposite, watched as their mum showered Tommy with attention. He wondered if she knew how desperate she looked. It was like she was grateful to finally have something to focus her attention on.

“Jesus Christ, Mum, he’s not an invalid,” Jonathan said. “Anyone would think that he lost his arms and legs in the river the way that you’re carrying on. If you’re that desperate for something to fuss over, maybe you should get a cat.”

Just as Bernie was about to give Jonathan a mouthful for his backchat, he stomped out of the room. Hearing the doorbell chime and her husband’s voice as he answered, Bernie made sure her son was comfortable before leaving him to relax and going to see who was at the door.

“Hello, Sophia,” Stanley said as he gave the pretty girl a warm welcome. He and Bernie had met Sophia at the hospital. The ambulance crew had said that if it wasn’t for her, Tommy would have drowned. Stanley had hugged the girl and thanked her repeatedly, before he had realised that he was probably embarrassing the poor thing.

“Hi Mr Jenkins, I just wondered how Tommy was doing. Thought I’d pop by and say hello to him if that’s okay? I bought him these,” Sophia said, holding out a small box of chocolates.

“Of course you can see him, love.” Bernie glided down the stairs. “Can I get you a drink; something to eat?”

Sophia shook her head.

“He’s just up here, come on up, love. Knock knock,” Bernie sung, as she tapped on the door. “There’s someone here to see you, Tommy.”

Sitting up in his bed, Tommy looked both surprised and abashed as his mum showed Sophia in. Bernie said that she’d leave them to chat and quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.

“So...” Sophia stood at the end of the bed. “You look a lot better than when I last saw you, Tommy.”

Sophia remembered how blue Tommy’s lips had looked and how transparent his skin had been. “You gave me a scare.”

Tommy sat back against the pillows and moved his legs to make space at the end of his bed so Sophia could sit down.

“I got you these.” She smiled as she passed the box of chocolates to Tommy.

Tommy didn’t know what to say. He was the one who should be buying the chocolates: he owed his life to this girl. And here she was sitting on his bed, offering him presents.

Noting the empty bed across the room, Sophia asked: “Is your brother not around?”

She hoped that he wasn’t. The very short time that she had spent in Jonathan’s company had made her dislike him. Even at the hospital he had been acting strangely, clutching his stupid camcorder to his chest as if it had more value than his own brother’s life.

“Oh, he’s around somewhere. He’s probably outside having a sneaky fag. Mum has been fussing over me like a demented woman; I think she was doing his head in.”

There was a silence. Sophia, knowing that Tommy was shy, started chatting about school. “It’s weird, isn’t it, that up until now we’ve never even spoken to each other at school,” she began.

Tommy and Jonathan were joined at the hip at school, and while Sophia could tell that Tommy was a really nice boy it was clear why everyone gave him a wide berth; if they were friends with Tommy then they’d have to be friends with Jonathan too and he was just plain creepy. “You’ll never guess what. Everyone at school has been talking about you. There must be ten different stories going around about what actually happened, and some prat in Year Ten has started a rumour. He told everyone that you’d been starved of oxygen for so long that you have severe brain damage, he said that you can only communicate by blinking and that when you come back to school there are going to be compulsory blinking classes for everyone so that we can show you our support. One blink for yes, two for no, three blinks if you need a wee, four if you need a... well, you know.”

Sophia had thought that Tommy would find this funny, but catching the look of alarm on his face she quickly added: “Don’t worry; I put him straight for you.”

Tommy couldn’t help smiling at the thought of Sophia putting the boy in his place, he could tell by how confidently she spoke that she didn’t take any crap from anyone. As he was the opposite, it was a quality that he admired. He had never even properly spoken to a girl before, let alone been friends with one, and the fact that she had stood up for him made him feel really special.

“Everyone’s talking about me?” Tommy hadn’t thought about the kids at school starting rumours about him. Most of the time he felt invisible there: Jonathan didn’t fit in and Tommy took it as his responsibility to stick with his brother, at the cost of Tommy’s own popularity.

The door opened.

“Oh, I didn’t realise that your guardian angel was visiting,” Jonathan said, as he saw Sophia sitting on his brother’s bed. He stared at her coldly, giving her the feeling that she was intruding. “Float down from your cloud in the sky, did you? Here, what’s that chat up line I heard on the TV the other day? Oh yeah that’s it, you say to the girl, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’ The girl thinks it’s a compliment, they love mushy shit like that but then you say ‘cause your face looks fucked.’ Ha, classic.” Jonathan laughed.

“You really are a dickhead,” Sophia said. Jonathan could bugger right off if he thought for a second that he would make her feel uncomfortable for being here.

“Ooh, give us one,” Jonathan said. Without waiting for a response, he took the box of chocolates and started to unwrap the cellophane.

Sophia snatched them back. “They’re Tommy’s,” she said, as she placed them on Tommy’s bedside table.

“Alright, Red, don’t get your knickers in a knot. They’re only bloody chocolates.”

“My name is Sophia, not Red,” Sophia corrected him, as she returned his glare.

Tommy shuffled uncomfortably in his bed. He barely knew Sophia, but she clearly had a fiery temperament. Unfortunately, so did Jonathan.

Popping her head around the door and seeing the steely looks that Jonathan and Sophia were giving each other, Bernie sensed instantly that something was up. “Are you alright in here? You’re not causing any trouble are you, Jonathan?”

“We’re fine, Mum,” Tommy answered.

“Good,” Bernie said, only half-believing him. “Are you sure I can’t get you a drink, Sophia?”

“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Jenkins.” Sophia smiled.

“I bet your parents are ever so proud of you,” Bernie said. What she had done had been so courageous; who knew what would have happened had she not been walking down by the river that morning?

“I guess they are.” Sophia shrugged. She hadn’t put much thought into how her parents must feel about her rescuing Tommy: they certainly hadn’t said much about it. Her dad had been more concerned by the fact that Sophia had taken yet another day off school and his ‘interfering’ mother had encouraged her to. At no point had he figured out during his rant that he had been the reason behind her recent absences. His main worry was that the school may send someone to his house because of it. Sophia’s mum had just been fearful that Sophia would get hypothermia from swimming in the cold river. Neither of them had hailed her as a hero, the only person who had done was her nan: for the past two days it was all she had gone on about, singing Sophia’s praises to anyone who would listen.

“Do you think they’d like to come to dinner? It’d be lovely to meet them,” Bernie said. Sophia seemed such a lovely girl and, if Bernie pushed relations between the two families, who knew what would happen between her and Tommy.

“Oh, I’m not sure.” Sophia tried to think of an excuse that would be acceptable to Mrs Jenkins without offending her or making her suspicious. “My dad isn’t very well at the moment. I think it’s quite serious; he hasn’t been at work for a few weeks now. Maybe my nan could come: I’m spending a lot of time with her at the moment, what with my dad being so ill.”

“Oh, you poor thing. That must be so worrying for you and your mum. What’s wrong with him?” Bernie enquired.

“We don’t know exactly. But he’s really ill,” Sophia said, realising that she wasn’t actually lying. Alcoholism was a disease. Feeling everyone’s eyes on her as she spoke about her dad was starting to make her feel extremely uncomfortable.

Bernie could see by the girl’s pained expression that the subject was clearly a tough one so changing the subject she said, “Oh, well, maybe we can arrange something when he’s a bit better then. Anyway, I’ll leave you kids to it. Tommy, if you need anything just give me a shout.”

“So, when do you think you’ll be back at school?” Sophia asked as she turned her back on Jonathan, excluding him from the conversation.

“Well, Mum wants me to stay at home a little bit longer but I feel so much better now. So my dad has persuaded her that I’ll be fine for tomorrow.” Tommy could feel himself regaining his energy and boredom was creeping in. He didn’t think he could manage another day at home being fussed over by his mother. Two days was more than enough.

“Thanks for what you did.” Tommy said quietly, embarrassed as he realised that he hadn’t thought to thank her sooner. “Thank you doesn’t really cut it, I know, but honestly...” he trailed off unable to find the right words. Almost drowning had been the scariest experience of his life, and whatever he managed to say, he would never be able to thank Sophia enough.

Jonathan’s loud scoff stopped Tommy from saying any more.

“Jesus, Tommy, if you could hear yourself mate.” Jonathan snorted. “You sound like the Queen at Christmas when she makes one of her boring speeches.”

Instantly feeling furious, Sophia bit her tongue and pretended to ignore Jonathan as she shrugged to Tommy as if to say don’t worry about it. She knew that Tommy was grateful, but he didn’t need to be. She had just acted on instinct when she had heard Jonathan’s call for help and without a moment’s thought she had leaped straight in, the same as anyone else would have done. Anyone else except that creepy Jonathan.

“I’d like to thank Sophia for being my hero, my guardian angel, my saviour...” Jonathan mimicked. “We get it, Tommy, you fancy her.”

Sophia had had enough. Jonathan was a jumped-up little shit, and it wasn’t as if he had been any help.

“Well, I’m glad I was there. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened.”

“I can’t swim,” Jonathan said frostily, wishing Sophia would bugger off home. She was a stuck-up bitch.

“I’d find it pretty hard to swim too if I was holding a camcorder in my hand the whole time. Oh well, hopefully you got some good footage.” Just looking at Jonathan made her skin crawl. She had been so angry with him: fair enough, he couldn’t swim, but standing there and filming it all with a look of enjoyment on his face was just plain weird.

“Anyway, Tommy,” Sophia said, not waiting to give Jonathan any more opportunities to butt in. “I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow then?”

“That would be nice; I mean cool.” Tommy felt himself blush. He couldn’t believe that she might want to be his friend.

“Cool,” Sophia replied, before planting a kiss on Tommy’s rosy-red cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

Shooting Jonathan a filthy look, Sophia left. Tommy stared at the door after it had closed, dumbfounded.

“Do you want a tissue? You’re drooling,” Jonathan said, trying to hide the fact that he was equally dumbstruck. “You don’t seriously like her, do you?”

Tommy shrugged, not wanting to give away how he felt: he knew his brother would only try and ruin the moment. But sitting back against his pillows, he couldn’t hide his smile. Sophia was like a whirlwind: she had so much energy and, unlike him, she oozed confidence.

Tommy closed his eyes. The way things were going, he was beginning to think that nearly drowning had been the best thing that could have happened to him.

Chapter Seven

“Why can’t you just give her the praise she deserves? You should be bloody proud of that girl, she’s a heroine. The
Hackney Gazette
wants to run a piece on her saving that boy’s life,” Nessa said to her son, who was leaning back in his chair looking right through her as she spoke.

“A heroine?” Jamesie smirked. “Bloody nonsense, Mum. Bunking off school and knocking about with the local scallywags aren’t the acts of a heroine.”

Jamesie took a big swig from his can of lager. Spilling some down his jumper, he wiped the trickle of liquid with his hand before leaning forward and glaring at his mother, and then at Kaitlin who was sitting in the chair opposite doing her usual silent routine and not backing him up. “And the only reason the local rag got wind of it all is cos you bloody called them. Right old busybody, you are. Well, you might be happy for everyone to know all your business, but I’m bloody well not. I’ve said that she is not doing an interview and that’s the end of it. So just drop it.”

Nessa hadn’t come over to the house to ask Jamesie’s permission; it was nothing to do with him, as far as she was concerned. This was Sophia’s moment of glory, and Jamesie was doing his utmost to stop the poor young girl from gaining the recognition that she ought to have. Nessa wasn’t having it.

“No, I bet you don’t want people prying into your business, Jamesie. You have a lot you don’t want people finding out about you.” Nessa felt rage build up inside her as she spoke. Her son was a smug bastard. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her. He may be in his late thirties but it was all she could do to stop herself from leaping on him and giving him a bloody good hiding. Especially after the stories she had been hearing about him lately. The sight of him sitting there slurring as he laid down the law, like he was better than everyone else, made her blood boil.

“What’s that supposed to mean? People finding out about what?” Jamesie shifted in his chair. “What have you been spouting your mouth off about now, Kaitlin?”

Nessa watched as her daughter-in-law fought to control her trembling hands as she placed her cup of tea onto the table, next to Jamesie and Nessa’s untouched ones.

Seeing the look that her son had just shot her daughter-in-law, Nessa knew that she had said too much. Kaitlin was sure to get a hiding if Jamesie thought that his wife had been telling tales. Either that or, once he had worked it out it would be her poor Sophia who would bear the brunt of his fury.

“Shall I leave you both to talk?” Kaitlin asked nervously, getting up from the chair. She could feel the tension building between mother and son and thought she was better off leaving them to it. She herself had a fair idea where Nessa had been getting her information.

“Sit your arse back down,” Jamesie commanded, his suspicions fuelled by her action.

Nessa was dumbfounded as she watched Kaitlin immediately do as she was told as if her husband’s word was gospel. She shook her head at her son; she was so ashamed of him.

“I haven’t got shit in my eyes, Jamesie; I see you for exactly what you are. No-one needs to tell me anything. Going out and getting langers every night and causing all your ructions. There is nothing that anyone can tell me about you that I can’t work out for myself.” The words tumbled from Nessa’s mouth. She had been holding in her thoughts about her only child for a long time. If it hadn’t been for her son acting like such an ignorant pig she would have picked a better time to let him have it, preferably when Kaitlin hadn’t been in the room. The woman was petrified of Jamesie. Looking over at the woman, silent and hanging her head, Nessa felt heart-sorry that she had said anything at all. She regretted being so hasty in coming here, she had probably increased the likelihood of Jamesie being violent towards Kaitlin, but she had been so swept away in the excitement of speaking to the reporter from the newspaper, who wanted to do a feature on Sophia saving Tommy Jenkins’ life, that Nessa had come straight over to tell the girl without considering that she would end up arguing with her son.

“Hello, I’m back,” Sophia announced as she walked into the lounge, feeling the tension. She had been listening at the door and had thought it was as good a time as any to interrupt before things blew up between her dad and her nan. “Hiya, Nan.”

“Well, girl,” Nessa said to her granddaughter, “I was just speaking to your father about the
Hackney Gazette
. They rang me today, asking if they could interview you about rescuing the boy from the Lea.”

“Rang you? Why would they? She lives here,” Jamesie said.

“My friend Heather’s daughter works as an assistant to one of the reporters, and Heather passed on my number.” Nessa gritted her teeth.

Sophia could see from her dad’s expression that if she agreed to the newspaper piece, it would only antagonise him more.

“Oh, Nan, no... I’m too shy,” Sophia said weakly.

“Shy?” Nessa laughed. “Sophia O’Hagan, one thing you ain’t is shy. You should do it. You should be very proud of yourself.”

“She said she doesn’t want to do it, so flaming drop it will you,” Jamesie said. His mother could try and interfere as much as she wanted, but he ruled the roost around here.

“Where have you been, anyway, Sophia?” he asked, noting the time on the clock, suspicious of why she had strolled in so late from school.

“Oh, I just popped in to Tommy’s to see how he’s doing. Looks like he’ll be back at school tomorrow,” Sophia said, uncomfortable as her dad’s eyes bore into hers.

“See,” Jamesie shot to Nessa. “She’s knocking about with the local dregs.”

“He’s not a dreg,” Sophia said, more forcefully than she had intended. “He’s really nice.”

“Of course she wanted to see how he was doing,” said Nessa. “The poor mite almost drowned. It’s a big shock, something like that: for the pair of them.”

“I don’t want you hanging around with him, Sophia,” her dad said, “or any other boy for that matter. You’re fifteen: too young to be knocking about with boys.”

Sophia wanted to say that she was nearer to sixteen than fifteen: her birthday was next week. But she knew better than to argue with her father, keeping the fact that most of her friends had had boyfriends for years to herself. She had never really been interested in boys: or not until now; Tommy was lovely and Sophia was so looking forward to seeing him the next day. But she had learned a long time ago that it was easier to agree with everything her father said, and what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Nessa shook her head in dismay: Jamesie was a control freak. She couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her vile son any longer. She had nothing left to say to him.

“I’m off home; Albert will be over shortly with some dinner. I’ll leave you all to it.” Nessa stood up. “Pop over sometime for a cuppa, Kaitlin,” Nessa added, knowing that her son would forbid his wife from doing so now that he thought she was telling tales, but she wanted Kaitlin to know that the subtle offer of support was there.

“See you soon, lovey,” Nessa said as she hugged her granddaughter tightly.

Nessa didn’t bid Jamesie goodbye, and she slammed the front door behind her on her way out.

“Fucking woman!” Jamesie erupted. He flicked through the TV channels. “Who the fuck does she think she is coming around here and butting her nose in? I don’t know why she thinks she can have a say in your life, Sophia. I’m your parent, not her.”

Recognising the signs of her husband starting one of his rants, Kaitlin gathered up the untouched cups of tea from the table.

“And if I find out either of you are going over there and telling tales to that interfering old bitch, there’ll be trouble. Do you hear me?” Jamesie looked from Kaitlin to Sophia.

“We won’t, Jamesie,” Kaitlin stuttered. “I mean, we don’t. We don’t do that, do we, Sophia? Our business is private; we know that.”

Jamesie looked from his wife to his daughter, as he took in their nods of agreement. He noted their striking similarities. Sophia had her mum’s natural understated beauty although their daughter was slightly taller and Kaitlin skinnier, her posture stooped, as if she was apologising for existing.

Temperamentally, Sophia was more like her nan than her mum. Jamesie had never been able to really understand the girl. She certainly wasn’t intimidated by him; in fact he seemed to repulse her. He often caught her looking down her nose at him and lately her dismissive attitude towards him was starting to bother him.

“Yeah, well, you had better bloody not. The last thing I need is her poking her nose in our lives every five minutes,” Jamesie said, staring hard at his daughter. “And as for you, no more hanging around with boys, do you understand? More trouble than they’re worth at your age. Only after one thing.”

“Yes, Dad,” Sophia said, as she opened the door for her mum who was taking the cups out to the kitchen. “I understand.”

“Good, now get me another lager.”

Sophia grabbed a can of lager from the top shelf in the fridge and then turned to see her mother standing at the sink, holding a bottle. She watched her as she opened it and swallowed a couple of her pills and then stood with both her arms tensed as she clutched the basin and stared out of the window, as if she was in a trance.

“Mum? Are you okay?” Sophia saw how worn out and defeated her mum looked.

“I’m fine,” Kaitlin replied, sounding weary. “Just be careful what you’re going off and telling your nan, okay? It’s all well and good you needing to talk to someone, Soph, but her coming around here and interfering like this is only going to cause us more grief. You know what he gets like. The more he drinks of this,” she pointed to the can on the side, “the more he winds himself up, and it’s me he takes it out on.”

Kaitlin turned on a tap, emptying the tea into the sink and staring at the brown liquid as it swirled around the plughole before being washed away.

“Mum, it’s not right what he does to you.” Tears stung Sophia’s eyes.

“Your father is going through a difficult time at the moment, Sophia,” Kaitlin replied. “You have got to stop going over to your nan’s and telling her what goes on in this house, do you hear me? It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

Kaitlin knew that Nessa had infuriated Jamesie. He would work himself up into a state as he stewed on her words.

Sophia was angry that her mum would put up with being smacked around whenever her dad was in a bad mood. He was a bully. And standing here listening to her mum justifying his actions was hard to bear. Sophia didn’t know if her mum was weak or stupid, but either way her dad’s temper was becoming more erratic and her mum was just accepting it.

Vowing that she would never end up being controlled by a man, Sophia slammed the lager down on the worktop. “You can take this to him. I’m going to my room.” There was no point in discussing the situation anymore. Sophia knew that her mum would never do anything about her abuse. Well, if she wanted to stand there and make excuses, it was up to her; Sophia had had enough.