What Doesn't Kill You Page 9
He looked at Evie. ‘He’d gone. Vanished. And somebody needed to find him.’
‘You jumped in after him?’ Evie identified with the feeling of helplessness and the desire to act, but what a terrifying experience this would have been for a young lad.
Griff nodded. ‘But I caught my foot on some rocks under the surface – rocks we couldn’t see from up high. The pain was excruciating. I heard myself cry out, but I had no sense of actually doing it. The waves were knocking me about, the cold had hit my system, and I’d lost my bearings. The last thing I remembered was thinking it’s all my fault.’ He tipped back his head and stared at the ceiling. ‘I’m told the coastguard arrived within minutes of the call going out.’
‘And they got you to safety quickly?’
His eyes returned to Evie. ‘So the others said. I was unconscious.’
‘Do you know what happened to Kieran?’ Evie steadied herself, waiting for the reply.
‘I guess he must’ve hit the same rocks. Went straight under. He just … disappeared. The coastguard found his body washed up further along the shore.’
‘Oh, Griff, I’m so sorry.’ What else could Evie add? There were no words meaningful enough to express the sorrow and anguish she felt for Griff. She could show him by enclosing him in her arms, but she’d given up the right to hold him.
Griff cleared his throat and continued. ‘From that point on I vowed to do everything in my power to save lives. I finally understood my father’s relentless pursuit in doing the same.’
The loss of his young friend was the start of Griff’s road to adulthood. It explained his unremitting motivation and dedication to saving lives, and Evie loved him for that, but as sad and as devastating as it was, Kieran’s death was an accident. Marilyn’s wasn’t. Not when it came to the crunch. The woman had maintained control of what was left of her destiny and had chosen to live her final days in peace.
It concerned Evie that Griff couldn’t see that. He was a man who valued self-ownership. The only conclusion she could reach was that Kieran’s death and Griff’s belief he was to blame for it had clouded, possibly even blindfolded Griff’s judgement. He needed someone to take his hand and show him the way.
She’d given up that right, too, but she had to try.
She stood and took a tentative step towards him. ‘It was different with Marilyn,’ she began. ‘When it came to your mum—’
‘Dad let her down. He was a hypocrite. He set aside everything he believed in. He abandoned his faith in science, in progress, and in the possibility the smallest change could turn things around.’ Griff’s lip curled in obvious disapproval. ‘He’d let me down, too. He couldn’t be bothered to fight for Mum. He was taking the easy way out.’
Evie recoiled and retook her seat. It was clear Griff wasn’t ready to be led from the fog.
‘I remember standing here, on the threshold,’ he said, pointing at the door, ‘staring at Mum, thinking how she’d never turned her back on us, when Dad put his hand on my shoulder and said letting her go wasn’t what he wanted either. He’d always thought of Mum as immortal. They’d built their lives around him going first. Then he explained how ill the chemotherapy made her, and how that had influenced her decision. It was what she wanted. According to him, I’d only seen her on good days and that particular day was the best she’d been all week. I was shaken to the core.’
‘So you started to come round to their way of thinking?’
Evie’s question scored her an iron-laden scowl, which was quickly replaced with an expression of hurt.
‘You don’t know me at all.’ Griff left his chair, and patted his leg, gaining Ozzy’s attention. ‘It made me realise we should be doing more to help Mum, not less. Not nothing.’
Flinching at the pile-driven stomps Griff took towards the front door, Evie shifted in her seat and watched as her husband reached the coat stand. He snatched at Ozzy’s lead, lassoing Tess’s hat in the process, sending it skimming across the polished floorboards.
‘Not again.’ Griff stretched for the beanie and hoopla-ed it onto the hook. ‘When I told Dad I’d help, that I wouldn’t sit by and watch my mother die, that I’d do whatever it took to show her the value of her life and how much better we were with her in the world, he shook his head and told me it wasn’t for me to get involved. It was between a husband and wife, and together they’d made their peace. Nothing I could say or do would change their minds, and if all I was going to do was challenge their decision, then it was best I kept away. They didn’t need me.’ He attached the lead to Ozzy. ‘Just like you don’t.’
As Griff opened the door, Evie sprung to her feet, desperate to speak, but cautious of the words to use. She needed Griff, but the past fifteen minutes had told her more about the man she loved than she’d learned in the last three years. And now she understood the reasons behind his and Logan’s rift, she was convinced the father-son bond would be ripped to shreds should Griff find out about Logan’s request. This was a far worse mess than she’d anticipated. For every day she delayed giving Logan an answer, she moved further away from the man she adored; the man who’d rescued her and shown her the beauty of true love.
‘Griff …’ She wavered, her conscience quashing her impulse to confess. Logan was relying on her discretion and compassion, but that extended to Griff, too. If she told him what was going on, it would be the end of them. All of them. She just needed a little more time to sort things out. There was a chance Griff never needed to know. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, bowing her head. ‘I don’t know what else to say.’
She should have said I love you, I want you home, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but she’d travelled too far down Logan’s path to see a way back.
‘The truth would be good.’ Griff’s expectant silence was filled with a yap from Ozzy. ‘In the car, boy, you’re coming home with me.’ He followed the dog onto the gravel, and stopped beside his vehicle. ‘I’ll collect his things tomorrow when I see Dylan. It’s probably best that you and I don’t cross paths. I’ll wait in the Land Rover until you leave for Dad’s.’ He paused. ‘Because you will. Helping him somehow validates you as a person. It shouldn’t.’ Griff scuffed his foot through the golden stones leaving an arc of bare soil. ‘I love you for who you are, not what you do.’
He threw his hand up in what Evie considered a gesture of resignation, bundled Ozzy into the back of the car, and took his seat in the front.
Without a second glance he drove away.
Chapter Ten
Tess
I was in my bedroom when Mum got home. She’d just put Dylan down for a nap when she came in to see me. She looked wrecked. Her hair was scruffy and tangled, and her sleeves were shoved up to her elbow. She has thin wrists. She has a thin everything. She can take or leave food and I know she won’t bother eating now. She’ll say it’s too late, or she had something at Logan’s.
Her eyes are dull, like they’ve been smeared with wax that nobody’s polished off. I wonder what it will take to make them bright again. She has the most amazing glint. They really do shine like emeralds. Griff says that to her. I’ve heard him. He sounds genuine, which is more than I could say about my father. The only time he was genuine was when he followed through with a threat.
My dad was not a man I looked up to. Not a decent role model.
I’m pleased Dylan has Griff. A boy needs his father.
I told Mum I’ll go round to Logan’s tonight, but she’s forbidden me from seeing him. She’s using my sickness as the reason, saying Logan’s been ill. Me going won’t make any difference to the old man’s health. I pointed this out to Mum, but she didn’t agree.
‘He’s a private, proud man, Tess. He hates the thought of anyone looking after him, even me, but we’ve reached an … understanding.’
She’d struggled to find that word – understanding. She glanced at the floor as she said it. I do that when I’m hiding something. I thought she was going to say she and Logan had reached an impasse. That
wouldn’t surprise me. He’s bloody stubborn, but I like that about him. If he says he’s going to do something, you can guarantee he’ll do it.
Griff’s like that, too.
Mum gave me her weird smile – the one that means things aren’t right at the moment, but they will be. That look rarely delivers on its promise, that’s how I know Mum’s not all right. I’ve seen that smile too many times. Not so much since she’s been with Griff, but often with my dad.
We don’t talk about him. My dad. Mum and I made a pact to keep our past between us. What I can say is he didn’t hurt me, not physically, but he wasn’t a nice man. Not a good man. He’s been gone four, five years, but I can see him very clearly in my head. He’s a big, thuggish man. Tall. Huge hands, especially when they’re scrunched into fists. He has blond hair that’s short like a soldier’s, and he wears size thirteen boots, with steel toecaps. He works as an architect. Well, he did, until he got the sack for drinking on the job. He punched his manager. Instant dismissal. Word soon got out and none of the local firms would employ him. He was a loose cannon.
Mum thanks God we’re free of him. I don’t think we are. I’m a reminder of everything he’s done to us.
I hate the fact part of him exists in me.
I wish I could remove it. Him.
Griff’s gone, but before Mum got back, he and Dylan were in the kitchen, messing about with Ozzy. The kid was chuckling, but Griff was quiet. And he had the face of a pig off to slaughter. I watched him for a few seconds. It’s not often I get a chance to study him, but he was so caught up in thought, he was oblivious to me.
I’m not in the habit of thinking about Griff’s moods, but I can’t shift the feeling he’s scared of something. I’ll assume it’s to do with Dylan’s seizure, although, I know he doesn’t like seeing Mum upset any more than I do.
My dad used to do his damnedest to upset her, and he’d laugh at her suffering. I expected Griff to be the same, but he’s not.
Keen to check on Mum, I step onto the landing and head for the stairs, but I halt as I become aware she’s in her room, crying. I hate that sound. I hate it with a vengeance. It stirs up intense emotions and visions of the years of torment and torture he, my father, put her through. The sound rips my insides out, exposing my darkest secret.
Her quiet sobs awaken my urge to cut.
No child, regardless of their age, wants to hear their mother weeping.
As I near her door, I’m deciding whether or not I should go in and comfort her. I’m hoping the moment will carry me through, because right now I want to run to my room, take my blade and score my skin, because … because that hurts less than the crushing pain in my head.
Chapter Eleven
Evie
While Logan was in the bathroom, Evie collected a duster from the airing cupboard, and wiped the top of his golden-pine tallboy. On it was a photo of her and Griff on their wedding day. Evie picked it up, and moved to under the ceiling bulb.
Griff was so handsome in his tails, and so happy, his square jaw set in a permanent smile, a six-month-old Dylan nestled on his shoulder. Evie was happy, too. Her new life had begun. She was safe, secure and madly in love.
She sighed as she cast her eyes over the image of Tess. She looked stunning in a deep green, shot silk dress. Even then she was emerging into a young lady. Her body was taking on the curves and fullness of a woman. ‘I’m missing you grow up,’ Evie whispered as she trailed her finger over the picture.
‘I’m ready.’ Logan’s voice cruised along the landing.
‘Coming.’ Evie replaced the photo, returned the duster to the cupboard and scurried to the bathroom. Opening the door, she took Logan’s dressing gown from the hook and opened it up, ready to help him put it on.
‘I don’t need that,’ he said, indicating for Evie to move away. ‘I’m going straight to bed.’
Evie folded the gown over her arm, stepped aside, and held out a hand for Logan. ‘I’ve set the recorder for that film you wanted to watch, and I’ve put the nuts out for the birds.’ Logan liked regular updates. ‘Once you’re settled, I’ll make us both a drink.’
Together, they ambled back to the bedroom, their joint efforts concentrated on reaching the bed in one piece. With the duvet already folded back, Logan was able to sit down and slide his feet in. Evie passed him the adjustable bed’s remote control, and Logan pressed one of the black rocker switches.
Nothing happened.
‘Bed’s not working,’ he said, handing the remote to Evie. ‘Must be the batteries.’
‘But I changed them three days ago.’ Evie tried the button for herself, and the head end of the bed began to rise. ‘Perhaps it was just a bit sticky.’ She kept her thumb down until Logan gave her the nod to stop.
‘Don’t patronise me, Evie. You changed the batteries because it wouldn’t work. If it’s still not working, it’s because I’ve lost the ability to hold down the bloody button.’
As much as it upset Evie to agree, she was in no position to argue. She’d put new batteries in twice this month already – she’d even replaced the rectangular one under the bed. And she’d seen Logan struggling with remotes and buttons a lot recently. He’d try first with one thumb, then with two, both hands quivering under the strain of pressing down the switch. Even the toggle on his stairlift was proving difficult.
The loss of power had nothing to do with the Duracells.
Logan sunk into his pillow and closed his eyes. ‘Would you put the foot up, please?’
Evie obliged, again stopping at Logan’s mark. ‘Perhaps we can find a touch remote. I can search online or ask at the disability shop.’
‘No point.’
Placing the unit next to Logan, Evie retreated, and took a seat in a white wicker chair by the window. ‘And there’s no point because …’
‘Because there’s no point.’ Logan’s eyes opened, and he zoomed in on Evie. ‘Why can’t you accept I don’t want to be here?’
‘I get it, really, I do. I’ve had times in my life when I was convinced the world would be better off without me, but things change.’
‘I don’t want change.’
And that was where they were different. Even at her lowest point, Evie had clung to the belief things would move on, that Neil would love and not resent Tess, that he’d drink less, that he’d disappear – anything, because one alteration could lead to another, and then another, and then another. In that respect, she was very like Griff. He believed change could have saved his mother.
‘Why have you never told me about your wife?’ Evie reclined and crossed her legs. She was in for either a long chat or a long silence.
‘What was I meant to tell you?’ Logan closed his eyes again.
‘About how she stopped her treatment. How that made Griff feel.’
‘So he’s told you.’ Once more Logan’s eyes opened and he locked onto Evie. ‘Then I expect you to understand why I want to go.’
‘Okay, but I also understand why Griff doesn’t visit. He thinks you gave up on his mum.’
‘I know what he thinks, but I don’t have the energy or the patience to baby him along. The choice was not his to make. Marilyn was my wife and I supported her until the bitter end.’ Logan’s face contained all the rage a younger man would store in his fist. ‘And this is why I don’t want him knowing my plans. He’ll make it impossible for me to go quietly. The fewer people who know, the better.’
He was talking as if Evie had agreed to assist him. She folded her arms. ‘Hang on. I’ve not said I’m going to help you.’ She absorbed the glare of defiance aimed at her and used its energy to awaken a latent rebelliousness within. ‘Right this moment I’m inclined to tell Griff everything. This secret has ruined my marriage. I’ve not told you before because I thought I was sparing you further distress, but I don’t think it would make any difference to you. I hate lying to Griff, and I can’t look him in the eye. He doesn’t understand where we went wrong.’
Evie jumped to her feet and p
aced the width of the bedroom. ‘I’ve even hinted there’s another man. He doesn’t know it’s a seventy-four-year-old with a death wish.’ She was aware Logan was tracking her moves. ‘He’s not living with us. It’s not right. I love him. He’s my husband, although for how much longer is anyone’s guess. I shouldn’t keep secrets from him. What you’re asking of me is too much. I will not be responsible for another person’s death.’
Decision made. That was something for the Happiness jar.
Dizzy from her outburst, and exhausted by weeks of constant conflict, Evie sunk onto the edge of Logan’s bed. ‘I’m sorry. I should have given you an answer a long time ago. I’ll continue to care for you, but if you go through with your plan, and I find you, I will call an ambulance. I won’t help you die.’ She put a hand on Logan’s arm. ‘I hope you understand. And I hope you don’t think any less of me.’
Logan’s eyes hadn’t left Evie for a second. ‘You’ll respect my wishes written in my directive?’
‘The directive your son knows nothing about?’ It was bound to be a bone of contention between her and Griff, but one Evie felt he would come to accept, given time and a thorough explanation of its workings. ‘Yes, of course. I’ve signed it, haven’t I?’
‘Even though Griff would hate the idea?’
‘It’s my name and number they’ll call when the time comes.’ It was the only compromise she was prepared to make. She didn’t want Logan to suffer at the end, however it came about. With his no resuscitation instruction, if she did find him stranded after a failed suicide attempt, there was a chance his Advance Decision would provide him safe passage to the next world, anyway. She could live with that.
‘Then that is the best I can hope for.’ Logan unrolled the top of the duvet until it was under his chin. ‘And I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. Things will improve once I’ve gone. In the meantime, I’ll consider what you’ve said about employing someone else.’ With that, he turned his head to the side, closed his eyes, and waved Evie off. ‘Turn the lamp off on your way out.’