Alex Barclay - The Caller

‘Don’t get comfortable there,’ said Anna.

She heard the beeps again, outside the house. She pulled open the door and grabbed his cell phone.

‘Give me that,’ he said.

She held it up. ‘When you go up and get into bed. Where were you tonight?’

‘Out.’

‘Tell me where you were. Or I will not give this back.’

Shaun laughed. ‘What? Give me my phone.’ He glared at her.

‘Don’t try anything with me,’ said Anna. ‘No more. I’m tired of this.’

‘I’m the one who’s tired of all this,’ said Shaun, standing up, ‘this fucking house. It’s so depressing. I hate being here. I can’t bear it. You go to anyone else’s house and you have fun. You come here and it’s all, like, ugh.’

Anna reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bottle of beer. She shook her head slowly. ‘What are you?’ she said. ‘A wino now? Walking around the streets with bottles of alcohol?’

‘I didn’t want it to go to waste,’ said Shaun.

‘It’s disgusting,’ said Anna. ‘When did you turn into this… this person?’

‘What person?’ said Shaun.

‘Stop it,’ she shouted. ‘Stop being so aggressive with me.’ Tears came out of nowhere. Shaun swayed in front of her, blinking slowly. She turned quickly and walked into the kitchen, wiping her eyes. She sat down at the table and took some deep breaths. She remembered the advice she once heard that it was never too late to start your day over. She looked at the hands of the clock at 4.20 a.m. and wondered which day she would be re-starting. In the hallway, Shaun’s cell phone beeped again. Anna boiled the kettle and made a mug of Sleepytime tea. Within minutes, she could feel its effects and wanted to stay exactly that way – alone, warm and calm in the soothing steam.

Beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep. Beep.

She put down her mug gently. And made an angry burst for the hallway.

‘Turn that phone off,’ she roared.

Shaun jumped. They both turned towards the door when they heard the keys.

‘Oh no,’ muttered Shaun.

‘Hey, what’s going on here?’ said Joe.

‘What do you think?’ said Anna. ‘He arrived home drunk – again. This time, he was lying on the pavement. Someone had pushed him out of a car and left him there.’

‘What?’ said Joe and Shaun.

‘Yes,’ she said, turning to Shaun. ‘You don’t even remember that part. What nice friends you have.’

Joe knew by looking at Anna that she hadn’t slept yet.

‘Go to bed, honey,’ he said. ‘You need sleep. I’ll take care of this.’

‘What do you mean you’ll take care of this?’ she said. ‘You haven’t done anything-’

Joe turned to Shaun. ‘You, stay where you are. Anna, can I talk to you upstairs?’

Anna shrugged. They walked up the stairs and stood on the landing, leaving Shaun muttering after them.

‘If he sees us fighting, we’re going to get nowhere.’ Joe struggled to keep his voice low.

Anna stared at him, her eyes wide. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘But if he doesn’t see you at all, that’s better?’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘You know what that means,’ said Anna. ‘I’m trying to discipline him alone. And I’m not able to.’

‘Yes you are.’

Anna laughed. ‘Obviously.’

Joe stared at the ceiling.

‘Do you know he hasn’t done anything about his college applications?’ said Anna.

‘Yeah, well, he’s doing that to piss us off. Because we didn’t go see them with him.’

‘What? He knows we couldn’t. I was just back from Paris, you were-’

‘Yeah, yeah, working, I get it.’

‘But you were!’

‘Of course I was! Where else is the money going to come from?’

Anna stepped back. Joe stared at her. ‘It’s true,’ he said.

Her eyes were black with anger. ‘I can not believe you. After what you put me through-’

‘What I put you through?’ His voice cracked. They looked at each other. ‘Jesus Christ, Anna. Is that how you feel?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m tired. I’m going to bed. You blame me for him, I blame you for me, you blame yourself for nothing. Goodnight.’

‘Wait – you have to answer me. You’ve never said that-’

‘I said I don’t know what I feel. Now let me go to bed.’

‘What has happened to us?’ said Joe. But she was gone.

Joe leaned against the banister, his breath shaky. He slowly made his way down the stairs.

‘Shaun,’ he said, crouching down in front of him. Over the past year, the brightness had gone from Shaun’s eyes and his skin was starting to look pale and waxy.

‘What?’ said Shaun, drowsy and irritated.

‘Where were you tonight?’

‘Not again,’ said Shaun. ‘I was out, OK? Just let me go to bed.’

‘What’s going on with you?’ said Joe.

‘Nothing,’ Shaun snapped. ‘Nothing, OK? Nothing.’

‘Your Mom and me are worried.’

‘Yeah, well, get over it.’

‘This isn’t you talking,’ said Joe. ‘You’re my boy, you’re a good kid. I don’t know where this nasty piece of-’

‘Leave me alone,’ said Shaun. ‘I want to go to bed.’

‘Your mother was up at the school today, I know you haven’t done anything about college-’

‘Why are you talking to me about this shit now?’ said Shaun. ‘What is wrong with you? It’s, like, late. Or early, whatever.’

Joe moved back and let Shaun struggle up from the chair.

‘Shaun – this is the last time you’re going to do this, come home like this, OK?’

Shaun snorted. ‘Whatever.’

‘Don’t,’ said Joe. ‘EVER say that word to me like that, OK?’

‘Whatcha gonna do?’ said Shaun, taking a step towards him, staring him down.

‘Don’t make this any worse for yourself,’ said Joe.

‘Worse than living in this house? With Mom moping around all day?’

Joe grabbed his arm. ‘Listen carefully, Shaun. I married your mother. That was a choice I made. I love your mother. And I never have and never will listen to anyone disrespect her, least of all her own son. Now, get the hell out of my sight.’

Danny and Joe pulled up across the street from Clare Oberly’s apartment building and parked outside a dry cleaners. The elderly owner stood against the plate glass window, smoking a cigarette and staring at them.

‘That Pace guy looks kinda funny, doesn’t he?’ said Danny.

Joe smiled.

‘Kind of like parts of his face are trying to make a run for it,’ said Danny. ‘His eyes are busting out, his Adam’s apple… it’s like he’s so thin, there’s no nourishment there for them. They’re out of there. Know what I’m saying?’

Joe shook his head. ‘You’re a cruel son of a bitch.’

‘Just saying what everyone else is thinking.’

‘You are so full of shit.’

They walked over to the building, past a huge moving van and into a brightly lit foyer with floors streaked with black marks. A couple walked by them in shorts and T-shirts, carrying a chest of drawers, the man sweating heavily and trailing foul air behind him.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Danny to Joe. ‘Deodorant.’

One of the elevators was held open by the couple moving. Joe and Danny took the free one to the tenth floor, found apartment 10B and rang the bell.

‘Hello,’ said Joe. ‘Clare Oberly?’

‘Yeah. Hi.’ She was an attractive blonde in her mid-thirties, dressed in a lime green chiffon top, white jeans and red and green platform shoes. Strings of expensive multi-coloured beads hung around her neck.

‘My name is Detective Joe Lucchesi. My partner and I are investigating a homicide. You received a phone call round about 11 p.m. last night?’