JASON IS SLEEPING late. Mikey creeps in several times to look at him but doesn’t want to wake him. He stands at the door uncertainly, fingering the mobile phone in his pocket, thinking about what Aunt Liz has said.
‘I’ll come down,’ she said at once. ‘I’ll get up early and drive down. Is it his depression getting worse, do you think, Mikey?’
‘I don’t know,’ he answered miserably. ‘I think he’s drinking a bit. Mum always said he shouldn’t because it was like poison for him, but I’m afraid of asking him.’
‘I had no idea about this,’ she said. ‘Look, Mikey, I’ll come down this evening,’ but he’d been anxious about that.
‘It’s best to let him sleep now,’ he told her. ‘He’s taken his medication and now he’ll just crash. But why shall I say you’re coming down, Aunt Liz? He’ll think it’s a bit odd, won’t he? I don’t want to say that I phoned you.’
‘No, no, don’t do that. Tell him I’ve got to get the flat with a letting agent and I want to ask around locally to see who might be the best. If you’re absolutely sure you’re OK I’ll get away early and be with you before lunch and I’ll text when I leave so you’ll have some idea. Jason can move into the other bed in your room and I’ll stay overnight and then we’ll all drive back together. I’ll bring sheets and some food. Don’t worry, Mikey, we’ll get it sorted. You can stay the extra night here instead of there.’
Part of him is so relieved he feels quite weak but part of him is bracing up ready to tell Dad what’s happening. Will he fuss about going back with Aunt Liz? He might not want to because it means losing two days of their holiday. Mikey feels sad about that but not sad enough to stay on with Dad on his own. He thinks anxiously about what might happen in Bristol between getting home and going back to school.
He can’t get out of his head what Dad said about Evelyn Drake – or how he looked when he said he wanted to break her neck. It’s always frightened him when Dad goes off on one but this was worse: not just the usual rage and anger and shouting but a kind of creepy madness.
He wishes Mum was here to take control. Before, it was like she and he were the adults and Dad was their child. Even when he was quite small she persuaded him to play this game, like they were taking care of Dad together.
‘He’s very sensitive,’ she’d say. ‘He feels things more than other people. We have to look after him, don’t we?’
Sometimes Mikey didn’t want to play the game, like when he had to go with Dad to post a letter or buy the newspaper.
‘Take Mikey with you,’ Mum would say, and Dad would look sullen, cross, as if he were being thwarted in some way. ‘Go on, Mikey,’ she’d tell him, nice and bright and jolly, as if she couldn’t see Dad’s expression. ‘Go with Dad.’
She’d nod at him, make the little face that said: Look after him, and he’d take Dad’s hand, smiling up at him as if it were fun, though fear fluttered in his insides. He had no idea why he was needed, back then, to shadow his father but now he’s beginning to guess.
Mikey peers in again through the half-open bedroom door and sees that Jason is awake, lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling: his face is closed and grim, and Mikey’s heart sinks. He creeps away, makes some coffee, and carries it upstairs.
‘I’ve made you some coffee, Dad,’ he says. He keeps his voice cheerful, like there’s nothing wrong, and puts the mug beside the bed on the little table. ‘Aunt Liz phoned. She’s coming down later today.’
Jason frowns as if he can’t quite understand what Mikey is saying, and turns his head slowly on the pillow rather as if the movement hurts him. His pale eyes are cold, expressionless; scary.
‘What d’you mean?’
Mikey stays by the door; he wishes that Aunt Liz were here already.
‘It’s something to do with letting the flat. She needs to come down and see someone about it. That’s what she said.’
He decides not to mention the bit about them all going back together. Aunt Liz can deal with that. His father sits up slowly, still frowning, and picks up the mug.
‘Do you want some toast?’ Mikey asks. ‘Or cornflakes?’
Jason shakes his head and Mikey slips away, glancing at his watch. With any luck Aunt Liz will be here soon.
By the time she arrives Jason is showered and dressed and ready for action. He’s determined to be on good form for Liz but he still feels shaky and he has to be careful. She doesn’t need to know, for instance, that he’s lost his job: none of her business. It’s a damned nuisance that she’s here but, after all, it is her flat. Something is buzzing about at the back of his mind, something he needs to do, and he tries to remember what it is. This medication is doing his head in, that’s the real trouble, and he simply has to stay in control. The bottles are hidden away in his rucksack but it’s something else that’s nagging away at him. Suddenly he remembers: Evelyn Drake, and his plan to get Mikey acquainted with her; to soften her up. He recalls meeting her by the Boat Float; he’d been angry about losing his job and probably said a few things he might regret. He curses inwardly: and now there’s this plan to go back with Liz tomorrow which Mikey seems quite keen to do. Jason feels that things are slipping out of his control. The familiar sensations of panic and disablement edge in and he begins to need a bit of a boost: a little sip from his water bottle.
Liz is watching him, assessing him, and he smiles at her; not too cheerful, not too bright. He’s a grieving widower and he’s struggling a bit; that’s perfectly reasonable. Helena told Liz about the depression way back when he was having a few difficulties holding down a job and she’s always sympathetic, always concerned. Especially now, with Helena gone … Helena gone. Momentarily he’s overwhelmed with terrible grief, just can’t control it, and Liz sees his expression and touches his arm.
‘It’s hell, isn’t it, Jay?’ she says – and just for a minute it might be Helena standing there and he longs for Liz to put her arms round him as Helena would have done, to hold him, and stroke his hair and say, ‘It’ll be OK, Jay-bird.’
Instead she grips his arm for a minute, smiles at Mikey and says, ‘Let’s have tea. I’ve brought some cake with me.’
Jason pulls himself together, nods, but he has an idea. It’s important that he doesn’t let the Evelyn Drake plan slip. It’s crucial.
‘By the way,’ he says to Mikey, very calm, very easy, ‘you must be sure to pop round and say goodbye to Evie before we go. I told her that we’d be seeing her again so it would be the polite thing to do.’
Mikey looks surprised, gives a quick glance at his aunt Liz, who shrugs, slightly puzzled but unconcerned, as if it’s none of her business.
‘OK,’ he says, rather warily. ‘Like when?’
‘After tea? You could phone her.’
Jason can only just control the panic, the need to make sure Mikey does what he’s told. Evelyn Drake must be kept on side.
‘OK,’ Mikey says. ‘I’ll phone her after tea.’
Jason takes a deep breath, smiles at him. ‘Good,’ he says. ‘Good boy. Need the loo, shan’t be a sec.’
He slips into the bedroom, hauls the rucksack out of the wardrobe and takes a deep long swig from the water bottle. He dashes into the bathroom, flushes the lavatory, comes out again and draws another deep breath before he goes downstairs.