Josephine Cox - The Broken Man

He turned his gaze to Adam, who was curled up on the couch, quietly sobbing.

With every minute that passed, Phil began to lose faith, though he kept his disturbing thoughts to himself.

Presently, he glanced across at the boy, who was quieter now, deep in thought. Phil’s heart went out to him. Again, he made his way over to him. ‘I know you want news of your mum,’ he started, ‘but we must try and be patient, however hard it might be.’

After what seemed an age, there was a tap on the door, and the surgeon entered, his face sombre.

‘What happened? Is she all right?’ Phil asked.

Simultaneously, Adam ran over, asking anxiously, ‘Is my mum all right?’

The surgeon quietly suggested to Phil, ‘It might be best if I have a quiet word with you first.’

Sensing the tense atmosphere, and made increasingly nervous by the knowing glances that passed between the two men, Adam backed away. ‘What’s happened? Why won’t you let me go to my mum?’

Moved to tears, Phil took hold of him. ‘I’m sorry, son, but you can’t go to your mother,’ he said gently. Though well aware that it was Adam’s right to see her, Phil realized it would not be wise. After all, he was just a child and, at the moment, dangerously vulnerable.

‘Why can’t I see her?’ All of Adam’s instincts told him the awful truth. In his heart and soul, he knew she had left him. ‘Get off me!’ His screams reverberated through the room. He fought Phil off and would have run from the room, but Phil caught him and held him.

‘Listen to me, son.’ His kind voice was calming. ‘D’you recall what I told you … about my darling wife and how the only thing I wanted in the whole wide world was for her to be all right?’

Tearfully, Adam nodded.

‘And do you recall how, for reasons we may never understand, the Good Lord took her all the same?’

Another reluctant nod.

‘Well, then, I’ve been thinking. Maybe your mum, like my dear wife, could never be made better on this earth. But up there, in God’s Heaven, she doesn’t feel pain any more; she’s comfortable and at peace, and though you will always miss her, she’ll be watching over you. She will never leave you.’

Deeply moved by Phil’s gentle words, the surgeon cautiously approached Adam. ‘I’m so very sorry. I know how hard it must be. I can promise you, we did everything humanly possible for your mother, but her injuries were many and her heart was not strong enough to carry her through.’

Adam looked up, his eyes marbled with grief. He began to sob, and soon it was an avalanche of grief. The devastating loss of his mother and the all-consuming hatred for the man who hurt her could no longer be contained.

In a trembling voice, he murmured, ‘One day, when I’m bigger, he’ll pay for what he did.’

‘Who will, Adam?’ Mr Hendon probed for the truth. ‘Do you want to tell us about this person … the one who must “pay for what he did”? Adam, can you tell me who you mean?’

Adam looked away. The surgeon’s words were a timely caution to him, for he knew he must never tell. Not because he didn’t want to, but because his mother had made him promise not to.

Just then the door opened and a nurse entered. After she had imparted her message to the surgeon, he politely excused himself. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you for a while, but please wait here. Someone will be along in a moment to have a word with you.’

They watched him leave.

‘Phil?’ Adam’s voice trembled.

‘Yes, son?’

‘When the person comes, will they let me see my mum?’ He felt as though his world had fallen apart. It was a strange and frightening feeling. ‘I have to tell her something.’

Phil knew that feeling, and he saw it in the boy’s face now. ‘Adam, listen to me.’

‘No! I don’t want to.’ Tearful, Adam turned away.

Phil persevered. ‘Think about what you’re asking, son. I know how much you want to see her, but it isn’t right for you just now. Later, when everything is in order, I’m sure you can see your mother … if you are still of the same mind.’

‘Please, Phil, I need to see my mum!’

Phil tried gently to dissuade him. ‘I do understand, but do you really think your mother would want you to see her now? Or do you think she’d rather you remembered your last conversation with her, when she was still able to tell you how much she loved you? Don’t you think she would feel your sadness, if you were to see her now?’

Phil’s wise words reached home. After what seemed an age, the boy took a long, deep breath and tried to be the man his mum would want him to be. ‘Is my mum really safe now, Phil?’ He needed reassurance.

Phil promised him that she was safe.

Adam accepted what Phil had told him, though he found it incredibly difficult to believe that he would never again see his mother, never again hear her voice. Never again hear her laugh, nor run with her across the fields. In his heart he could see her beautiful smile, and that funny way she had of wrinkling her nose when she laughed out loud.

Suddenly the awful truth began to sink in, and the enormity of it all was too much for him to bear.

In a voice that was almost inaudible, he whispered to Phil, ‘I’m really sad.’ Winding his arms round Phil’s wide waist, he confessed brokenly, ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Aw, son, we can none of us do anything, because when the Good Lord calls us home, we have to go.’ Phil held the boy tight to him. ‘But you’re not on your own, son, because I’m here for you. If I’m able, I will always be here for you.’

Thankful that he had Phil, the boy confided in a whisper, ‘Phil, I don’t know if she heard me promise. I need her to know that I made the promise.’

Choking back his emotion, Phil told him, ‘Don’t you worry about that, because she heard it all right – I heard it too – but y’know, son, sometimes we make promises and then, later, we regret them. You might need to think about that particular promise, the one you made to your mother. Maybe you won’t want to think about it just yet. But maybe later, when you’re not so very sad.’

Adam was resolute. ‘If Mum had not made me promise, I would have told them everything … about how he hurt her, time after time, hitting her and making her cry. I hate him for what he did, but she didn’t want me to tell. Why did she not want me to tell?’

Phil measured his words carefully. ‘Because she loved you so much, she did not want you to do something that might hurt you in the long run. I believe that was why she asked you to make that promise.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I think she wanted you not to tell, because if you told, then you would have so many awkward questions to answer. It would be a nasty business, with you caught up in it.’

Leaning forward, Phil placed his hands either side of Adam’s face. ‘All you need to know is that your mother loved you, and that no one will ever be able to hurt her again.’

Looking into Phil’s kind, weathered face, Adam saw such honesty.

‘Phil?’

‘Yes, son?’

‘She’s died, hasn’t she?’

‘Yes, son.’

‘Has she gone to the same place as your wife?’

‘Yes, I’m sure she has.’

‘Will they be friends?’

‘I would like to think so.’

‘But I’d rather my mum could be here with me, because then, when I get older, I could keep her safe always.’

‘Ah, but that’s not your job, son, because now she’s in the safest place of all. Your mum was an angel on earth, but angels belong in Heaven. She’ll be well looked after there.’

‘I want her back, Phil. I miss her … I really miss her.’ Suddenly the full truth had hit home. He could no longer be brave; and his grief was overwhelming. Hiding himself in Phil’s musty old coat, he sobbed as though his heart would break.