Keeping Sam (16 page)

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Authors: Joanne Phillips

BOOK: Keeping Sam
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She tried to picture her father on the operating table while surgeons battled to restart his heart and put him back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty. But her dad hadn’t just fallen off a wall, had he? He’d been well and truly pushed.

‘Oh, God.’ She dropped her head into her hands. An arm snaked around her shoulder, and she looked up to see Patrick by her side. He pulled her close, then released her just as quickly.

‘It will be okay,’ he said. ‘He’s in the best possible place.’

Kate stared at him, her eyes pleading. ‘I did this, didn’t I? If I hadn’t told Elizabeth about Evan, if she hadn’t gone over there …’ She put her face against his chest, suddenly glad he was here after all. ‘I hate him,’ she said quietly. ‘But I don’t want him to die. Does that make any sense at all?’

‘It makes perfect sense.’ Patrick spoke in a low voice for her ears only. She listened, focusing on the weave of his shirt, the smell of his body. ‘Kate, the fact that this happened during an argument is irrelevant. They might not even have been arguing about you. And it sounds to me like neither of your parents are strangers to arguing. You mustn’t blame yourself. Yes, your dad found out about your mother’s behaviour, but it would have come out soon enough. Besides, I don’t think his heart attack had anything to do with that.’

She blinked through her tears. ‘You don’t?’

‘You say he was ill last year? Well, maybe there was an underlying condition. And he’d been … Well, you said he was a drinker. He probably wasn’t in the best of health to start with.’

Patrick was right. Kate knew it, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread in her stomach. Her mother said that they were arguing about her, that he was angry about her. She said Kate had broken his heart.

But what about
her
heart?

‘If he dies, what will I do? There is so much I need to say, things I need to know.’

Patrick led her back to Marie. Kate glanced at her mother surreptitiously, hoping to see some emotion on her face, a sign that what was happening was actually getting through. The woman looked as though she was doing nothing more onerous than waiting for an appointment at the dentist.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Marie said, still twisting her hands in her lap. ‘I have a theory about your dad. It could be complete rubbish, but it might explain a few things.’

Kate smiled weakly. She was glad now that Marie was here too. Her down-to-earth solidarity was just what she needed right now. ‘Go on,’ she said.

‘Well,’ Marie continued, ‘do you think your father might have felt guilty? You said you had a horrible childhood, that he’d been a heavy drinker, that you were scared of him. Do you think that he wanted to make amends for that?’

Kate shook her head. ‘He never even acknowledged that he had done anything wrong. The day I left home I confronted him with it. Of course, by that time it hadn’t happened for a few years because I was that bit older and I guess he couldn’t intimidate me the way he had before. But I brought it all out into the open that day. He had a chance to say sorry. I might even have forgiven him then. I wanted to have it settled.’ Kate felt a pain in her chest as she remembered that conversation, the last she would have with her father for years. ‘He denied everything. Told me I was a fantasist, an attention seeker. My mother – she sat next to him, looked me in the eyes and agreed.’

Patrick’s face hardened. Kate wondered what he was thinking.

‘I can’t imagine how horrible it was for you,’ Marie said with a shudder. ‘But you did say that your mother told you the other day that he was on your side now, that he wanted you to have Sam back?’

‘Yes, but that was just because he couldn’t be bothered looking after him anymore,’ Kate countered.

‘Oh, come on. That can’t be right. They took Sam on in the first place, didn’t they? Your dad was retired, your mum’s not getting any younger. It can’t have been easy, taking on a baby. With your mum, maybe she just needed to feel needed. But your dad? If he was still the tyrant you believed him to be, he would have said no way.’ Marie shrugged. ‘But he didn’t, did he? He chose to look after Sam and give him a comfortable home, and as far as we know he’s treated him well. Perhaps he was trying to make up for all the things he’d done to you.’

‘Sam certainly seems to love his granddad,’ Kate admitted. She thought about how upset her son would be when he heard his granddad was poorly. Barbara had left Sam with his friend’s family on the way to the hospital, so at least he would be protected from all this until they knew more. Kate looked down the corridor in the direction they’d taken her father and wondered again how he was holding up.

She looked at Marie with a new-found respect. ‘I honestly hadn’t thought about it that way,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Although you’re just imagining how you might feel and putting those feelings onto him. Which is because you’re a nice person. I’m not so sure what kind of a person he is these days.’

‘Well, as soon as he’s out of surgery you can ask him, can’t you?’ Marie said briskly, patting Kate’s hand.

Kate nodded. All she wanted to do now was see her son and give him a hug. She couldn’t believe how much she missed him. The hearing was only two weeks away. And maybe, just maybe, this would be a turning point for all of them. Maybe after this they could put the past behind them once and for all and move forward. For Sam’s sake. For all their sakes.

A doctor came into view, loping along the corridor in his white coat. He made a beeline for Kate’s mother, leaning low to talk to her. Both of them ignored Kate. She felt her friends grow tense beside her but she said nothing. When her mother got up and followed the doctor back down the corridor, Kate swallowed over a lump in her throat. He must have come round after the surgery and asked for Barbara. She wondered if he’d ask to see her soon. Half of her wanted to see him very much; the other half wanted to run a mile.

But more than anything she hoped that Marie’s hunch was right, and that her father was ready to admit the truth and say he was sorry. Sorry couldn’t give her back all those years, the sleepless nights, the fear and the loneliness. But it could pave the way to a better future, one without bitterness and recriminations. In a couple of months it would be Christmas. She tried to picture them all sitting around her mother’s enormous dining table, eating turkey, pulling crackers, wearing silly hats. It was possible, she told herself. Unlikely, but possible.

Anything was possible, after all.

Patrick and Marie had gone off in search of the cafeteria when Barbara reappeared. She walked along the corridor as if in a trance, pausing at the entrance to the waiting area, looking around at the faces blankly. There were three other families there now, so Kate waved to get her attention, then dropped her arm to her side, feeling stupid. Her mother’s face was dark and clouded. She sat next to Kate and looked at her hands.

‘Have you been in with Dad?’ Kate asked. ‘How is he?’

Barbara laughed. She turned to face her daughter, and Kate drew back when she saw the look in her eyes.

‘What are you doing here, Kate?’

‘What? I don’t – what do you mean?’

‘Why are you here? You made no secret of the fact that you hated your father, so what is all this about?’ Barbara leaned forward, her face a ghastly white. ‘Is it guilt?’ she asked.

‘I don’t have anything to feel guilty about.’ Kate spoke hotly. Where were Patrick and Marie? She didn’t feel able to deal with her mother’s moods anymore. ‘Look, I’m not discussing this with you now. Not here. I’ll go in and see Dad, and then I’ll going home. In a few days, when everything’s calmed down a bit, maybe we can talk again.’ She took a deep breath, let it out as slowly as she could. ‘So. Would you mind telling me which room he’s in so I can go to him.’

Kate could feel her mother’s eyes on her face. She didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see her thoughts written so clearly there. Fine, Kate thought, blame me if you like. If it makes you feel better. But if you hadn’t gone after Evan, if you hadn’t taken things so far …

‘You can’t go and see him.’

‘What do you mean, I can’t? You can’t stop me. If I want to talk to him I will. He’s my father.’

‘Not anymore he’s not,’ her mother said with a grim smile.

Kate shook her head. What new game was this?

Barbara’s voice was no more than a rumble. ‘How many times have you wished he was dead. Go on, be honest. You might as well now, you’ve nothing to lose. You hated him enough to want him dead, and now your wish has come true. You’ve finally managed to get your revenge, Kate. Your father is dead.’

It couldn’t be true. Her mother was lying. This was her latest trick. But then, even as Kate tried to form the words that would expose the wicked lie, she saw Patrick talking to a doctor. It was the same doctor, improbably young, impossibly tired. She saw Marie turn and look at her, her expression one of almost comical concern. Kate pushed her chair away, scraping it across the floor, and began to run. Away from her mother, and from Patrick and Marie and their pitying eyes; away from the hospital where her father lay still now, unable to ever tell her himself that he was sorry for the things he’d done.

She found herself outside the main building, her mind numb. She slipped between two wheelie bins and sank to the floor, hidden from view. My father is dead, she said to herself, and then she said it out loud. ‘My father is dead.’ It didn’t make it any more real. One minute he’d been there, his face red with anger, his breath a whiskey-fuelled fire, and the next he was gone. She tried to focus on how it made her feel, whether all those feelings of hatred and anger she’d held on to for so many years would go now, just dissolve into nothingness. After a while she realised they hadn’t, and they probably never would. They had merely receded and been replaced by a dull sadness. Regret was a bitter pill indeed.

She started to run again. Gone was the stiffness in her legs; she was stronger now, stronger than she’d ever been before. The lights of the hospital buildings faded behind her as she ran on into the welcoming darkness. She had no idea where she was. She had no idea what to do next. She knew one thing and one thing only, and this she repeated to herself like a mantra as her feet pounded the pavement and the buildings sped by in a blur. She still had Sam. Soon Sam would be home. Hold on just a little bit longer. Your son is coming home.

 

Chapter 19

 

Eventually, Kate found her way back to Bow Hill, surprised to see all the lights on in the house, even those in her own room. It was after dark now; she looked at her watch and saw it was almost eight. Marie dived out of her door as soon as Kate’s key turned in the lock.

‘Oh, Kate, where have you been?’

‘I just needed to be on my own.’ Kate didn’t want to meet her friend’s eye, couldn’t bear to see the look of concern there. ‘I still do, I’m afraid. Please don’t be offended.’

‘Never mind about all that,’ Marie said, bustling Kate towards the stairs. ‘You need to sort your head out and put on a big smile.’

‘I don’t think this is the time for keeping up appearances.’ She was about to say more, but Marie held up her hand and cut her off.

‘Sam’s upstairs,’ she said. Kate’s mouth dropped open.

‘He’s where?’

‘Upstairs. With Elizabeth.’ Marie was already on her way up, talking over her shoulder; Kate followed closely behind, her feet hardly touching the treads.

‘How long’s he been here? And why? I mean, what did Elizabeth say?’

‘Ask her yourself,’ Marie said with a soft smile. She stepped out of the way to allow Kate past. Kate felt a touch on her back, a pat of reassurance, and then she opened the door to her room and stepped inside.

Sam was sitting on her bed wearing spotty pyjamas and cuddling a teddy. He was watching something on a tablet device propped against Kate’s bedside lamp, one thumb jammed into his mouth. When Kate walked in his eyes flicked to her briefly, but he didn’t register her beyond that one small gesture. Elizabeth, who was sitting at the sewing table gazing at her phone, looked up and smiled, then she stood and gestured to Kate to follow her through to the other room.

‘What’s going on?’ Kate asked, her voice low but insistent.

‘I’m sorry about your father,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It must have been a horrible shock. Did you know he had heart problems?’

Kate shook her head. She would process her feelings about her father soon enough, but right now her thoughts were firmly on the little boy sitting all alone in her bedroom.

‘What’s Sam doing here?’ she asked again. Was it too much to hope that this was it now, that Sam was going to be with her for good?

Perhaps her mother had had a change of heart, realising she couldn’t cope alone …

‘It’s just for tonight, Kate,’ Elizabeth said, as though she could see Kate’s hope flashing across her eyes like the scenes on a TV screen. ‘I thought it would be best for him to stay somewhere else – your mother will be at the hospital for a while yet, and I doubt she’ll be in any fit state to look after a toddler when she does get home. As soon as I heard I went to his friend’s house and collected him.’ Elizabeth looked around the room, which was empty apart from an old low wardrobe and an upholstered armchair that Kate had hauled home from the thrift shop.

‘This is Sam’s room,’ Kate explained, ‘except I haven’t got much furniture for it. But it’s fine, he can sleep with me tonight. I mean, he can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,’ she added, seeing the dubious look on the social worker’s face. ‘Honestly, Elizabeth, it’ll be fine. You did the right thing bringing him here. And –’ she swallowed, peering through the open door at her son. Her son! ‘And thank you,’ she finished. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘It’s only for one night,’ Elizabeth repeated. ‘If your mother insists on having him back tomorrow we’d better go along with that for now. This close to the court hearing, it’s not a good idea to cause friction. We want it to look like you are totally reasonable and amenable.’

‘Which I am,’ Kate reminded her, walking back into her bedroom. ‘Hey, Sam. How are you doing? What do you think of your … of my pad?’

He gazed up at her blankly. His eyes were red-rimmed and his mouth had a blurry look to it.

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