Chapter Seven - Mikey Charles Frewin #2
‘Is that right?’ He didn’t know who the smiling idiot was but, whoever he was, Mikey was in no mood for a chat.
‘I have something to say that will seem strange, but hear me out…’
He stared ahead, as Chen spouted the biggest load of bullshit he’d ever heard!
He watched people approach the counter and hand over their slips of paper while Liz and the pharmacist ran around sorting bottles, sachets, blister packs and tubes into small paper bags.
He listened intently to what the weirdo said, keeping his cool just, arms folded tightly across his broad chest, heart racing.
‘Here we go, Mikey!’ Liz called and waved the paper bag in his direction. Before he stepped forward to accept the antidepressants that made Gemma feel better, he turned briefly towards Chen and spoke softly.
‘Fuck off and leave me alone! And if we weren’t in the chemist’s and these people weren’t my neighbours, I’d knock your fucking head off your shoulders, d’ya hear me?’
‘I hear you, Mikey, but I wanted to give you the chance. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault!’
With anger now rising in his chest, he shoulder-barged past the bloke, taking the bag from Liz, before walking quickly to his van, where he sat in the driver’s seat, his chest heaving.
Death had a strange effect on people, that much he did know, remembering the dozens of best friends who had sobbed on social media at the loss of Aaron, most of whom neither he nor Gemma had ever heard of.
This man, however, with his granting of bloody wishes, took strangeness to a whole other level.
He was glad of two things, first that he’d managed to control his anger, and second that it wasn’t Gemma the bloke had cornered, knowing how it would had unnerved her, and, if that had happened, then, inside the chemist or not, Mikey wouldn’t have hesitated to knock his head off.
As his pulse calmed and his breath found a more natural rhythm, he regretted barging into him. I mean, who was he? Someone in need of help probably, someone in need of something. It was, as he was trying to swallow his guilt, that the man walked from the chemist’s.
Mikey got out of the van and walked towards him.
‘Look, I’m sorry for losing it a bit in there.’
'I understand, it’s a lot.’ Chen was not going to pack it in, clearly.
‘I don’t want you to say anything more,’ Mikey spoke softly, ‘but I do want to apologise for barging you like that.’
‘No need to—’
‘Please, let me finish,’ he held up his hand, ‘I don’t think you can have any idea how cruel and beautiful your words were.
Cruel because it’s the dream, isn’t it, the one wish we all have, to get a bit more time with them.
And beautiful because just the thought of it, to see my boy, to touch him, hold him, hear him…
It would mean everything, and I would give the rest of my life, happily, willingly, for just a minute with him!
’ His voice shook. ‘But please, think before you spread this garbage. Talk to someone, Chen, talk to someone who can help you.’
‘I promise you, Mikey, that I have never and will never tell you a lie!’
Turning slowly, Mikey made his way back to the van. He pulled out of the car park without looking back.
***
It was Saturday night, and Gemma hadn’t left their bed, just as he’d expected.
He now sat on the sofa and, despite the tension in his bones and wishing he could ignore what the weirdo in the chemist had said, he found himself entirely seduced by the idea of fifteen minutes with his son.
When would he choose? That was an easy question, the last time he’d seen him, exactly a year ago when Aaron had come home from the pub and Mikey had been watching the footy on TV.
The last time he’d heard his son’s voice, without any hint of what was about to happen.
He’d been distracted by the match and, when Aaron popped his head into the lounge and mentioned he and Georgia had finished, Mikey had leapt out of his seat to shout at a disallowed goal, arms flailing, voice loud,
‘Come on, Ref! You’ve got to be bloody joking!’
He had, over the last twelve months, replayed the phrase and the moment endlessly. By the time he’d settled back into his chair and the furore over the goal had calmed down on screen, his son had climbed the stairs and closed his bedroom door.
And that was the last time he saw him.
Alive.
He would give anything – anything – to do it differently, to try and rid himself of the nightmare. Not that it would change what he believed to be the unshakeable truth, that it was his fault.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tipped his head back on the sofa.
It was strange, the way his body almost instantly felt different, as if without the weight of grief his whole being was lighter and gone was the feeling that there was something sticking in his chest. He opened his eyes and the commentator on TV was yelling:
‘He is, he’s going for it! The ball’s moving to the forwards. It’s three yards out from goal in the middle of the six-yard box – there’s a tussle, the blues are defending, but too little too late, it’s over the line! And let me tell you, Anfield is making some noise!’
Mikey felt light-headed, high! It was unbelievable! Fantastic and unbelievable! A dream? Possibly, but it felt so real! He was back in the room, a year ago.
Five, four, three…
He stared at the lounge door, which was ajar, knowing the exact timing of his son’s entrance, having re-lived it night and day, day and night.
Was he really going to get to see his boy?
He placed his wide palm over his mouth to stop himself from calling out to Gemma, torn between not wanting her to miss it but also recalling what Chen had said, ‘If you leave the room, alert anyone or the person themselves as to what is happening, your time with them will end.’
He couldn’t take the risk.
‘Oh, wait a minute, this doesn’t look good, the ref’s calling for VAR—’
Two… one…
‘Hiya,’ his son’s voice. One word that made his knees weaken, as emotion roared in his chest.
Mikey stood, just as he had, but this time he grabbed the remote control and turned off the TV.
‘Hi!’ the word a strangled whisper.
‘Just going to go straight up, Dad.’ Aaron pointed up the stairs.
It was hard to move, to function, to breathe!
‘No, come in, come in!’ Gathering himself, he walked over and waited as his son looked first up the stairs and then at the lounge before making the decision to step into the room.
Mikey, shaking, wrapped him in a rare hug.
Holding him close, he breathed in his aftershave, the faint essence of lager, and minty gum.
They rarely touched each other in this way, but tonight, Aaron, who Mikey knew would ordinarily pull away, shrug himself loose, make a joke, allowed himself to be held.
Mikey never wanted to let him go, content to stand there forever, but knew enough to keep things as normal as he was able, wanting those full fifteen minutes.
‘You alright, Dad?’
‘Yeah, just, you know, it’s been a long week. Sit down.’ He sat at one end of the sofa and Aaron the other.
He took the chance to take in every detail of his appearance, replacing the image that lived in his mind of that grey complexion, the staring eyes. Aaron was fuller in the face than he’d remembered, his hair longer.
He was beautiful. His beautiful boy.
‘A good night?’ He tried to keep the enquiry light, to appear calm, as his stomach churned, his blood ran fast, and he had to bite his lip to prevent words of warning firing from his mouth,
‘Don’t do it, son!’
‘Think of what it’d do to your Mam, to me!’
‘You have a bright future, lad, the brightest!’
‘We love you, Aaron, you’ll never know how much we love you!’
‘Not really.’ His son paused. ‘Georgia dumped me—’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ Mikey spoke softly. ‘Your mum finished with me once, you know.’
‘Did she?’
‘Yeah,’ Mikey laughed, ‘I was devastated!’
‘What happened?’ Aaron leaned forward. It took all of Mikey’s strength not to grip his hands, look him in the eye and beg him to stay.
‘It was a long time ago. I think she got cold feet. We were very young, about your age, and some of her mates were moving away, heading off to college or whatever, and I think she was worried about getting left behind. Settling.’
‘But she settled for you in the end?’
‘No, Aaron, that’s the thing, everyone was saying, there’s plenty more fish in the sea, as if I should have gone fishing for a new bird, but, instead, I chose her, and she chose me. Settling would have been the biggest mistake, always is. We chose each other.’
‘And you lived happy ever after!’
‘Again, no, lad!’
His son laughed, and it was wonderful to hear, so very wonderful!
‘Life’s difficult and relationships aren’t easy, but we carry on choosing each other every day and we face whatever comes together.
It’s hard to accept when you’re young, but the truth is most days are boring, tiring, and it’s the small things she does that make me laugh or make me comfortable or make me happy that mean I want to get up in the morning and want to get home to her at night.
I’ll always work as hard as I can for you both.
I’ll always love you both to the bloody moon and back. You two are me world, me whole world!’
He couldn’t help the tears that fell, no longer ashamed or embarrassed by the display, in the way he had once been, because crying was now, unfortunately, second nature to him.
‘So you think Georgia might take me back?’
Mikey gripped his son’s arm and looked him in the eye. ‘She might, but the question is, do you want to put your happiness in the pocket of someone who has dumped you? You need to understand her reasons and then make a decision.’
His son nodded.
‘It’s been a shite week, Dad. I, I messed up at work.’ Aaron folded his hands, as his knee jumped with nervous energy.
He did not know this!
‘You did? How?’
‘Didn’t connect the alternator properly on the boss’s wife’s car. She broke down in the Mersey Tunnel. He’s mad as hell.’
‘He’ll calm down, lad. We all make mistakes. Talk to him, tell him you know you messed up, he’ll respect that, and I know that you won’t do it again.’
‘I bloody won’t!’ Aaron exhaled a long, slow release. ‘I’m tired, Dad.’
Mikey watched him stand, with fear in his chest that made his limbs shake.
‘Aaron—’
‘Wha?’ his son asked, one hand on the door.
‘It will all be okay. We love you, your mum and I, we love you so much.’
‘You had a bevvy or two, Dad?’
‘Not yet!’ He felt the moments slipping away, and his heart squeezed in his chest. ‘See you in the morning, Dad’
‘Yep.’ His voice cracked and he swallowed, forcing the lie from his lips. ‘See you in the morning, love.’
***
Mikey woke in his bed with the curtains open and sunlight filling the room. He was relieved to see that Gemma was already up. This promised a better day than yesterday. Instantly he noticed the bedroom was clean, vacuumed, fresher than it had felt in recent times.
Treading the stairs, he heard the unfamiliar sound of music coming from the radio in the kitchen.
The upbeat sound of pop fracturing the air that was usually silent and weighted.
It was at once jarring and uplifting to be reminded of something he had once taken for granted, in the house that had grown as quiet as it was dark.
‘Here he is! Rip van Winkle! What time d’you call this?’ Gemma plonked a cup of tea on the countertop in front of him and kissed his cheek.
‘Thanks.’ He studied her, his wife who had washed and brushed her hair, was dressed and smiling, and moved with speed and ease of movement around their little kitchen.
Gone was the stilted hesitance to her limbs as if every action caused her physical pain.
Gone were the dark shadows of loss that lived beneath her eyes.
‘What you staring at?’ she fired, biting into thickly buttered toast and speaking with her mouth full.
‘You.’ He smiled. ‘You look lovely.’
‘Flippin’ ‘eck, what are you after?’ she blushed. ‘What time did you come up last night?’
Mikey sipped the tea. It tasted good. ‘Not sure.’
‘Recovered then from your upset over the footy?’
Placing the mug on the surface, he gripped the counter to keep himself upright. It was then he heard the sound of the TV in the lounge and the voice of commentary,
‘He is – he’s going for it! The ball’s moving to the forwards.
It’s three yards out from goal in the middle of the six-yard box – there’s a tussle, the blues are defending, but too little too late, it’s over the line!
And let me tell you, Anfield is making some noise!
Oh, wait a minute, this doesn’t look good, the ref’s calling for VAR! ’
Rising slowly, he walked along the hallway, listening intently, hardly daring to step into the lounge. Then he heard it, the sweet, sweet unmistakable sound of Aaron, his boy.
‘Come on, Ref! You’ve got to be bloody joking!’
Mikey stood in the doorway, as his son jumped up, arms flailing, as he watched the match on catch up.
‘You seen this, Dad?’ he pointed at the TV screen with the remote control.
Mikey fell against the wall, his tears beating a steady path down his stubbled face, his breath coming in huge gasps between sobs.
It was a miracle, a second chance, it was…
he couldn’t find the words. That man, Chen, he’d shoulder barged him, when what he wanted to do was find him, hug him, thank him, ask him to explain!
‘Jesus, Dad! It’s only a goal!’
‘Aaron!’ Scrambling to his knees, he took his son into his arms and cried as he held him close. ‘I had the most terrible nightmare, the worst.’
His son shrugged himself free and sat back down on the sofa.
‘Give over! Have you had a bash to the head?’
‘I might have,’ he laughed, swiping at the tears that fell, ‘I just might have.’
‘Is Georgia coming for lunch, love?’ Gemma asked from the doorway.
‘Nah, we’ve broken up.’
‘Ah, that’s a shame, I like her. It’s true what they say though, Aaron, there’s plenty more fish in the sea!’
‘So I’ve heard.’
Aaron smiled at his dad, and Mikey knew he would never be more thankful, for this moment, for every moment he got to spend with his boy.
His beautiful boy.
Mikey didn’t want to let him out of his sight but took a moment to walk out into the back yard, his words he let fly high, ‘I reckon you must have been an angel, Chen, an angel. That’s the only thing that makes any sense to me!
I don’t have the words to tell you how I feel, or what this means’ – he looked skyward – ‘but you didn’t just give Aaron back his life, but mine and Gemma’s too.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, forever, thank you… ’
‘You wanna watch the rest of the match, Dad?’ Dad… Dad… oh to be called by that name! ‘I’ve paused it.’ Aaron called out.
‘Coming, son.’ Mikey took a deep breath and walked back into the house where his boy was waiting.