Karl sat with his mother, watching Newsnight, talking about the state of things. The riots he missed, the school time he missed. The stuff they talked about in therapy. How they became estranged; reliant on the little network to support Karl. The guardianship from Godfrey. How she wanted it revoked, if this was how they went about things behind her back. The everything she missed because they did not have a tight relationship any more. Not her words, of course not. She said ‘no meaningful relationship’ and ‘not trusting any more’. Everyone knowing him better than she did. It wasn’t alright like this, to run away and not tell her the truth. Not even if he was eighteen. Not even if she was sometimes very ill. But she understood ‘being your own person’, and the world trying to tell you otherwise. The small world that you sometimes couldn’t escape unless you left. She had done that. A long time ago. Not much older than Karl. She had been feisty and sure of herself and not known what she was doing at all. They fell silent then, left it there. You couldn’t say it all in one go.
It got darker in their living room, but they didn’t put on the light. Karl sat on the couch with her, and when Newsnight finished, she turned the TV off. Karl just looked out the window for a very long time. Didn’t say a thing. Until she broke the damn silence.
‘He will be fine, you know.’
When Karl slept later, he dreamt his mother was running after him in a water park, the fountains spraying both of them and their laughter so loud and wild it woke him up. The first rays of light were creeping through the blinds. He left a note. Out for a run. Found my phone. I’ll be back for breakfast.
It was still quiet outside, houses all dreamy and inattentive. Instead of sprinting around street corners, he walked until he arrived at the hospital. It was too early for visiting hours but he knew a way of sneaking in to the chair by Abu’s bed.
When Abu opened his eyes, Karl’s face was slumped over. Abu all clueless. What the heck was going on? And why was Karl all droopy-shoulders, about to hit the floor with a big sliding-off-that-chair move that was not cute at all? Abu wanted to laugh but it was difficult to remember how to do that. Instead, his mouth moved, the lips remembering the way they used to work that whole area, a mind of its own, tongue adding the rest.
‘You’re back.’
And he fell. Karl. Banged his elbow on the linoleum. Awake in an instant. Then remembered where he was, that he wasn’t supposed to be here yet, that he needed to be quiet, that they could tell him to leave. But before he made it up off the floor something sent him straight back.
‘When did you come back?’