Tania Carver: Cage of Bones

‘Hey,’ he had managed.

‘Hey yourself,’ she had replied.

He had felt good seeing her there, like it had all been worthwhile. And then he had drifted off again.

A few days later, he was up and talking. Mickey had been to see him, filled him in on what had happened; Don and Eileen too. And Marina. Always Marina.

They had sent him home with his arm strapped up and instructions to take it easy. He couldn’t do anything else. But although his body wasn’t responding, his mind was. And there were things he needed to talk about.

‘How’s Finn?’ he had asked Marina, the night after he had been discharged from hospital. Sitting in an armchair in the living room, the Decemberists playing, drinking wine. Trying to relax. Not doing a good job of it.

Marina had looked up from her book. ‘He’s fine,’ she had said. ‘He’s been reunited with his mother. We’ve got him counselling. We’re getting all of them counselling. They’re going to need it.’

Phil took a mouthful of wine.

‘D’you think you did the right thing?’

‘What d’you mean?’

Phil could tell from the look on her face that she knew exactly what he meant. It was what he had wanted to talk to her about since he had come round in hospital. And she had been expecting it.

‘Down in the chamber. You encouraged Finn to kill Glass.’

‘He was going to do it anyway. Or try. What could I do?’

‘He’s a damaged boy, Marina. What you allowed him to do could make him even worse. Unreachable, even.’

‘Things weren’t that simple, Phil, and you know it. What was I supposed to do? Tell him that I knew what he was about to do but strongly advise him not to do it? And then let Glass kill all of us?’

‘But… ’

‘No, Phil. No buts. He’d just watched you kill the Gardener. He did the same thing to Glass. It wasn’t a situation where middle-class morality applied.’

Phil said nothing.

‘Finn will recover,’ Marina said, leaning towards him over the arm of the sofa. ‘We’ll make sure he gets the best help he can. We’ll allow him the time to get better. He’s confronted the worst thing in his life and faced it down. Now, with help, he’ll hopefully be able to go on and lead as normal a life as possible.’

‘But what about what happened to him in that room? In the Garden?’

‘Remembered as a bad dream. Hopefully. Like what happened to you.’

Phil took a sip of wine.

‘Like what happened to me,’ he said. Took another sip. ‘Hopefully.’

‘Dinner in about ten minutes,’ said Don now, popping his head round the door.

They all acknowledged his words.

Marina looked across at Phil.

She was getting him back. She was sure of it. Slowly. But he was coming back to her.

It had been difficult. Of course it had. And although she could empathise with him, she couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. But he was accepting things. Moving on. Getting his life back together.

And she was so glad she was still a part of it.

She looked down at Josephina playing with Eileen. The little girl laughed at something Eileen did, then looked at Phil to see his reaction. He laughed too. Marina saw tears in the corners of his eyes. Saw the smile linger on his lips, reluctant to go. Knew how much love that man had in his heart.

Yes.

His arm was healing. She was sure he was healing inside too.

She was getting him back.

They sat round the table, food laid out before them. All hungry, all ready to start.

‘Before we dive in,’ said Phil, ‘I just want to say something.’

Silence fell. Don and Eileen risked a look between them.

‘It’s been a funny few weeks, hasn’t it?’ said Phil.

No one spoke.

‘I just wanted to say… ’ he looked at Don and Eileen, ‘thank you. For everything.’

Don started to say something; Phil kept going, talked over the top of him.

‘Sorry, Don, you’ll get your turn in a moment. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I want to say it while it’s still fresh in my head. What you two did for me… ’ he looked at them again, ‘I can’t thank you enough. I can never thank you enough. You gave me a home. You gave me a childhood. You gave me a future.’

His voice caught. He stopped. No one moved. No one spoke. They waited. Phil continued.

‘You kept some things from me. And yes, I was angry about that. But I’ve been thinking. And… ’ He sighed. Shrugged. ‘What else could you have done? I’m sure I would have done the same if it had been me. And you did it for the best.’

He paused again.

‘And because you did, I’ve got a family. Don, you’ve always said families are more than just biology. And you’re right.’ He looked round the table. ‘I’ve got my family. Right here, Don.’ He looked at him again. ‘Dad.’

Don turned away, eyes wet.

Phil held his glass up.

‘To family.’

They all joined in. Drank. Ate.

Together.

A happy family.

The tightrope holding.