Elisabeth Carpenter - Only a Mother

‘Craig?’ I try to shout the words, but my mouth is dry. There’s a tumbler of water on my bedside table, so I take a sip. ‘Craig! Are you there?’

He walks into my bedroom.

‘Have you seen Leanne?’ I say. ‘It’s been all over the news. And Denise? Jim said she didn’t come home. It’s been such a long day, Son. What time is it?’

He’s pacing the short space between my bed and the wardrobes.

‘It’s late. I’ve seen Denise. She said she hid Jason’s supply in our shed… that she put it into empty tins of paint. Jason didn’t believe her… he said that she’s always on his case. He said that she grassed him up the last time she found drugs in the house. Is that true?’

‘I don’t know anything about how they are now,’ I say. ‘He was always a wild one.’

‘Did Denise put the tins in the shed?’ he says, sitting on the edge of my bed.

‘I don’t know who put them there,’ I say, feeling so ill, so tired, so fed up with all the lies. ‘But I flushed it all down the toilet.’

‘Fuck!’

I shouldn’t have trusted the kindness in his question.

He leaps up from the bed and begins pacing again, grabbing at his hair.

‘Mum, why did you do that?’

‘The police had just been round.’ I prop myself up with my elbows and reach over to touch him, but he’s too far away. ‘Please, Son. You have to understand: I didn’t want you getting into trouble. I was trying to protect you. I thought you put it there.’

He kneels before me, wiping the tears from my face that I have no strength to hide.

‘No, Mum. It wasn’t me.’ He lowers his head, laying it on my stomach. He’s shaking. ‘You should’ve left it there. It would all’ve been fine then. He wouldn’t have hurt Denise.’ He stands, slowly, and strokes the side of my face. ‘He hated her, Mum. He hated the way she treated him. And this was the last… Oh shit. What a mess.’ He sits next to me again, his arm resting on my shoulder. ‘If he knew you were the one who got rid of it, he’d probably…’

I grab hold of his hand, squeezing it tight to quell both our trembling.

‘Has he got Leanne, too?’

‘Yes.’ He stands again, rubbing his hands through his hair. ‘Well, he had her. God knows what he was going to do with her. But she managed to escape. I had to help her, Mum. She was only a kid. I’m a lot stronger than I was before, but the punch I gave him won’t have knocked him out for long. It’s like Jason’s someone else – he’s changed… or he’s been like that all along… I don’t know. It’s like he hated me too. I mean always hated me. The police’ll be there soon. They’ll find Denise. Shit, this is such a mess!’

‘What’s happened to Denise, Craig?’

He goes to the window, lifting the net curtains. He looks for a few minutes before standing at the end of my bed.

‘Didn’t you hear me?’ I say. The dread of his reply gives me the strength to sit up. ‘What has happened to Denise?’ Then it dawns on me. ‘You said Jason hated her. Did you mean to say that in the past tense?’

He’s rubbing his face with his hands – like there are insects crawling under his skin.

‘I think he’s killed her. I couldn’t stop to check. I had to get Leanne out of there. I phoned the police as soon as we left. I’d gone to Inkerman Street to show the necklace to him and tell him about the top that you found. He admitted it was him – and that he planted those things in our house. How could he have done that to me? I thought he was my friend.’

‘What? Jason?’ My hand goes to my mouth. The room is spinning again. I can barely breathe. ‘I don’t understand… You’re his friend! You were like brothers.’ I wipe the tears from my face, though my hands don’t feel as if they’re mine. This can’t be real. ‘There must be some mistake. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Let you go to prison for so long.’

‘But he did.’

‘I can’t believe this.’ I swing my legs on to the floor. ‘Denise, Lucy… I can’t—’

‘Everything will be all right, Mum.’

It’s as if our roles have been reversed.

‘But it’s not going to be all right!’ My heart’s beating too fast. I’ve a fever. I could be delirious, hallucinating. I dig my nails into my palms, but I feel the pain. ‘How can it be – Denise is dead!’

‘I know… I know.’

There’s a bang on the front door.

Craig puts a finger to his lips. I sit up slowly.

‘I know you’re in there, Craig!’ It’s Jason, shouting outside. ‘You’d better fucking come out now.’

Craig leaves the bedroom; I hear him tread slowly down the stairs.

I manage to make it to the top of the stairs, but I don’t trust my knees not to collapse under me, so I sit and shuffle down them one at a time.

‘I can see you both,’ says Jason through the letterbox. ‘If you don’t come out now, Craig, I’m going to pour petrol in and throw in a match. Is that what you want?’

The pain in my side is overwhelming. I think it’s spread to my middle, to my neck. It feels like I’m either going to pass out or be sick. I sit on the bottom step.

Jason bangs on the door again.

‘If you don’t open up, I’m going to knock on every door in this street and tell them all to come out.’

Craig steps towards the front door. He looks back at me.

‘He wants to frame me for killing his mother. But I’m stronger than he is now.’

‘Don’t go out there with him, Craig. Phone the police! Please!’

He opens the door and Jason’s hands reach in to grab my son.

I stagger to the front door.

Jason is shoving Craig towards his car; it’s as though my son isn’t fighting back.

‘Craig!’ I shout. ‘You don’t have to go with him. You’re stronger now, remember!’

‘I’ll be fine,’ says Craig, looking into my eyes. ‘Trust me on this one.’

Jason scowls at me as he walks to the driving seat. It’s like his face is someone else’s – someone I don’t recognise.

‘Craig!’ I raise my hand, reaching out to him.

His eyes are locked on mine as they drive away. He looks afraid, and my heart is breaking all over again.

As they drive away from Inkerman Street, Luke’s mobile phone beeps. It’s a message from Helen.

Thank God, he thinks, swiping it open.

‘ Sorry about last night. Had a really bad day at work yesterday and had to let off some steam. Battery ran out on phone. Stayed at a friend’s. Am heading to bed. See you later .’

‘Who’s that from?’ asks Amanda.

‘Helen.’

‘Jesus. Thank God.’

‘She didn’t put any kisses on it. And she didn’t say where she stayed last night.’

‘It’ll be a mate from work.’

‘I guess.’

Luke clicks on Helen’s contact details and presses Call .

It goes straight to voicemail.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ says Luke. ‘Just wanted to make sure you’re OK. Had a strange call this morning saying a car was following you last night. Make sure all the doors are locked, will you? Give me a ring when you get this.’

He ends the call and selects the number for the house landline.

It rings countless times, there’s no answer.

‘Something’s not right,’ says Luke. ‘She wouldn’t sleep through the landline, would she?’

Amanda shrugs. ‘It’s likely, if she’s had a heavy night.’

He checks the message he sent to Simon. It’s been read, and Luke sees the dots as the other man types out a message. It’s intermittent. Simon’s taking his time to find the right words perhaps. Is he trying to get his story straight? Maybe Luke was worrying about the wrong thing – Helen could be having an affair. He’s overdramatised what might have happened to his wife when the truth is much simpler. They haven’t been as close as they were. They go to bed at different times, barely talk about anything that doesn’t involve the kids or work. Luke’s face feels hot at the thought and he hopes Amanda won’t ask any more questions about Helen.