Chapter 32
32
JOEL
I met Mum and Dad at their B&B the following day. There was a small residents’ lounge which the landlady had told them was almost never used during the day – more conducive for a serious talk than going to a busy café.
‘Chester went for a run this morning,’ Mum said after I’d hugged her and Dad. ‘He got lost and was out longer than expected so he’s just having a shower. He sends his apologies and says being late wasn’t intentional.’
I wasn’t surprised at the tardiness – punctuality wasn’t my brother’s strongest point – but I was shocked at the run. Chez had been known to lift the occasional dumbbell or do a few crunches but he detested most forms of exercise, especially running.
Mum was pouring tea from a pot when Chez appeared, his hair still damp from the shower.
‘All right?’ he asked.
‘All right. You?’
‘Yeah. Getting by.’
It wasn’t the finest start to a conversation, but it had at least involved some eye contact. Mum offered him a tea, but he produced an energy drink from his pocket and opened that before sitting down.
Silence.
I could have kicked things off but I couldn’t help thinking I’d be accused of parenting again if I took control, so I picked up my cup and saucer and sat back in my chair, waiting for someone else to make a start. I wasn’t expecting that person to be Chez.
‘I’m sorry about what I said on Saturday and I’m really sorry about the bottle. I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t… I mean, I could have… Erm… I know I was a twat at the wedding and before that with the mess and eating your food and what me and Lorna did in…’ He glanced at Mum and Dad, whose expressions were blank. It was the only part I’d missed out. They didn’t need to know what their teenage son and his girlfriend had been doing on their granddaughter’s bed.
‘Yeah, erm, all of it. Sorry, bro.’
It wasn’t particularly eloquent but it was an apology, it sounded genuine enough, and he’d acknowledged that the issue was bigger than the wedding incident. I wondered how much he actually recalled of what he’d said that night so I wasn’t going to brush it straight under the carpet like I usually did. He needed to know how badly his behaviour had affected me.
‘You do realise that what you said really hurt me? Or was that the intention?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m struggling at the minute and I guess I do need help but you can’t seem to stop being a parent and it kills me. All I want is for you to be my brother! Why’s that so hard for you?’
I bit back a sigh as his voice got higher and louder. What had been the point in the apology when he clearly still thought I was the one in the wrong?
‘Let’s explore what that means,’ Dad said, his voice calm. ‘Imagine we’re living round the corner from you and you’re struggling. What would you want or need from us as parents?’
Chez shrugged once more. ‘For you to listen, to care, not to judge, to be patient with me.’
‘All fair points. And what would you want or need from Joel as your brother?’
‘I’d want him to listen, to be there for me, to get me, not to get arsey or impatient.’
Dad nodded. ‘What’s different about those two lists?’
I looked towards Dad with admiration. Well played that man.
‘Chez?’ he prompted.
‘Nowt, I guess,’ Chez muttered.
‘Exactly. What I’m hearing is that you’ve lashed out at your brother for being exactly what you wanted and needed him to be – a caring brother displaying exactly the same behaviours a caring parent would demonstrate.’
‘But he’s always having a go at me about being messy.’
‘It’s his house,’ Mum said, ‘so he has every right to be annoyed. It’s about showing respect for the person putting a roof over your head, especially when they have no obligation to do it.’
Chez sipped on his drink, seemingly mulling this over.
‘He had a go at me for eating all his food,’ he said eventually.
‘Did you pay for any of the food?’ Dad asked.
‘No.’
‘Did you ask him if it was okay to eat it?’
‘No.’
‘Then please explain what makes you think you’re the one who’s right to be angry in this situation.’
God, Dad was good.
Chez shrugged again. ‘I don’t have the right.’
Over the next couple of hours, we explored everything that had been building up inside Chez until he finally admitted that he was angry with them for abandoning him when he needed them. Mum cried at that point, and I was upset for her but I was glad Chez had finally admitted it. I’d long suspected it and had even questioned him but he’d told me Don’t be so pathetic – I’m not a kid who needs Mummy and Daddy to look after me and tuck me in at night.
We paused the conversation while we went out for lunch in a nearby café, making small talk. There was so much I wanted to tell my parents about my job and Imogen and Poppy, but I didn’t want to take the attention away from Chez and onto me. Towards the end of lunch, the subject of going to Portugal arose again and I threw in my own encouragement for him to take a break, but he remained adamant he wasn’t going. His mission was to get a job and win Lorna back and I wondered if the run this morning was something to do with that. He’d told me before that she’d joked about him developing a beer belly prematurely and that the closest thing he was ever going to get to a six-pack was a trip to the fridge.
After lunch, Chez said he needed some space. I personally thought there was more to discuss but, in his shoes, I’d have wanted a timeout so we wished him a relaxing afternoon and said we’d see him for tea. He messaged a few hours later to say he needed longer to clear his head and wouldn’t be joining us for tea. It was disappointing and it felt like a cop-out, but we’d made a good start and not having Chez around gave me a chance to update Mum and Dad on everything that was going on with me.
We’d settled the bill after our pub tea that evening and were heading back to the B&B when my phone rang.
‘It’s Harry,’ I said, surprised to see his number on the screen.
‘Hi, Joel,’ he said when I answered. ‘Can you come to my flat? Chez is here and he’s in a right state. I don’t think he’s drunk, but he’s not making any sense. I don’t know what to do.’
My stomach lurched. ‘Stay with him and try to calm him down. I’ll be there really soon.’
We were only a few minutes from the B&B, so we walked Mum back then Dad and I power-walked across the town centre to Harry’s flat. I wanted to tell Dad not to worry but how could I reassure him when I was worried about my brother? If only he’d come out for tea with us as planned!
A woman answered the door who I presumed was Deana. After everything I’d heard about her from Chez, I’d expected her to look hard as nails but she was pretty and petite and immediately made me think of a nursery school teacher.
‘Thank God you’re here,’ she said, her tone anxious. ‘He’s in the lounge. We don’t understand what he’s saying. We’re so worried.’
Chez was sitting in the middle of the lounge floor, arms wrapped round his crossed legs, head down, rocking back and forth and muttering.
‘Chester?’ Dad crouched beside him. ‘Chester? It’s Dad. Can you hear me?’
Dad gave his shoulder a gentle nudge and repeated what he’d just said, but Chester carried on mumbling incoherently.
‘How long’s he been here?’ I asked.
‘Ten, maybe fifteen minutes before I called you,’ Harry said, his face pale.
‘I found him,’ Deana said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I went out to get some chips and he was on the bench outside the flat, rocking like that. I rang Harry and we managed to get him up the stairs together. We catch the occasional word but nothing makes sense.’
‘He says Lorna a lot,’ Harry added, putting his arm round Deana and kissing the top of her head.
I was only getting a snapshot of Deana in unusual circumstances but my initial impression was that she was far from the monster that Chez had made her out to be. I could see that the flat was immaculate and I suspected their clashes had been over Chester’s immaturity and mess.
Dad tried to move Chester’s arms, and something fell out of his hand onto the wooden floor.
‘A ring box,’ I said, reaching for it. ‘Don’t say…’
‘She said no,’ Chez murmured. ‘No, no, no, no, no.’
I flicked it open, grimacing at the diamond ring inside. I turned it round for Dad to see and he released a heavy sigh. I closed the box and zipped it safely inside my jacket pocket.
‘We need to get you back to the B&B,’ Dad said. ‘Come on, Chester, you’ve got to help us here. We can talk about this later.’
‘I can drive you,’ Deana offered. ‘It’ll take you ages to walk him like this.’
‘Drink this.’ Mum held a glass of water against Chester’s cracked lips in his room at the B&B.
It had been a struggle, but we’d managed to bundle him out to Deana’s car and into his bedroom at this end. The odd sentence tumbled out, but he was mostly incoherent. I’d messaged Poppy from the car with the briefest explanation and apologies that I might not be able to call her. She’d messaged back to suggest we check his pupils in case he’d taken something he shouldn’t have, but his pupils were thankfully normal.
It took about an hour of constant questions and sips of water to finally get the story from Chester. He’d gone for a walk after lunch to clear his head, and his shoelace came undone, so he bent down to fasten it. When he stood up, he realised he was outside a jeweller’s and there was a ring in the window which caught his eye. Suddenly that seemed like the answer to winning Lorna back so he asked her to meet him to talk. She agreed but, instead of talking, he proposed. She hadn’t just said no to his proposal – she’d given him a list of reasons why he was unsuitable husband material ranging from messy to immature, selfish to moody. Every accusation had stung Chester all the more because they’d been the things that we’d talked about this afternoon which, deep down, he knew to be true about himself. Lorna had told him that they brought out the worst in each other and the best thing for both of them was to never see each other again. Seeing her walking away, knowing it truly was over for good this time, had broken something in him. None of us were experts, but it sounded like he’d had some sort of breakdown and had been trying to get to Harry for help, but he hadn’t quite made it. It was lucky that Deana had found him.
There were twin beds in Chez’s room so we all agreed that Mum would stay with him for the night. He objected but not for long. In my mind, what he really needed right now was his mum.
‘I think I’d better come back to Portugal with you,’ Chez said as Dad and I prepared to leave. ‘I need to get my shit together and I might as well do that somewhere warm.’
‘I think that’s a very good idea,’ Dad said. ‘We can sort out a ticket in the morning.’
‘If I change my mind, make me change it back. Lorna wants me out of her life and I’m not sure I can stay away when we’re in the same town. We need to be in different countries.’
I didn’t want my brother to be heartbroken like he so clearly was, but I couldn’t help feeling relieved that Lorna had reached this conclusion about their relationship. Love shouldn’t be this hard and I hoped some space far away from Lorna would help Chez realise that himself.
I stayed with Dad in his room for a while, conscious that tonight would have been a shock for him and keen to make sure he was okay. By the time I made it back to my place, it was after 1a.m. and I was shattered. Poppy had messaged to say I was welcome to call her, no matter how late it was, but she’d understand if I was too drained and needed my bed.
To Poppy
Much as I long to hear your voice, I’ve only just got back and it’s stupid o’clock so I’d better let us both get some sleep. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Thanks for being here for me x
From Poppy
I’ll always be here for you. Sleep well x
As I settled under the duvet, I didn’t just want to hear Poppy’s voice – I wanted to see her. I recalled our conversation on Monday morning when I’d joked I was tempted to throw a sickie so I didn’t have to leave her. I’d never taken a day off sick in the whole time I’d worked at the factory. But what if I didn’t go in for my three night shifts across the weekend? What could they do? Sack me? When I’d told Eloise that I wanted to take the redundancy package, she said she’d expected me to say that and was sorry for all the stress. She’d then added, I think this is going to be stressful for all the managers. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them phone in sick. I’d rolled my eyes and agreed with her but now that I replayed that conversation in my head, her tone of voice had been unusual, exaggerating the words. Had she been dropping a hint? The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced she had been. If Bramblecote Country Foods could eliminate my job without ever meeting me or any of my colleagues, I clearly wasn’t important to them, so why should they be important to me?
I leaned over to the bedside cabinet and grabbed my phone.
To Poppy
I’m sick of being a pushover. If my new bosses don’t care, neither do I. Can I drive down to see you after I’ve had tea with Imogen? I’ll be phoning in sick and giving the night shifts a miss x
From Poppy
You rebel! But I don’t blame you at all. Can’t wait to see you x
I plumped my pillows and settled down to sleep, feeling better than I had in a long time. The episode with Chez tonight had been hard but it had led him to what I believed was the best decision he could possibly have made for his emotional wellbeing – to go to Portugal with my parents. It was also a weight off my mind that he wouldn’t be my responsibility for the foreseeable future, meaning I could focus on my fight to keep Imogen in Yorkshire as well as continuing to build my relationship with Poppy.