15. Holly
HOLLY
F or the first time in many years, I’m happy.
We fall into an easy routine. Mike still has Dylan every other weekend and so far has stuck to our arrangement, giving Kane and me some time together, which generally consists of us eating, drinking, and having crazy sex all over the house.
Then, on the alternating weekends, the three of us spend what feels like family time together.
We go to the park or the cinema, eat out together or cook meals at home.
Dylan has gotten used to seeing Kane kissing me, or for us to be sitting on the couch, with my feet in his lap.
I love those weekends as much as I love the ones where it’s just the two of us.
Kane hadn’t spent this weekend with me, however, which is unusual for him.
He often stays right until Monday morning, where he leaves for work at the same time I’m leaving to take Dylan to school, and then head into work myself.
This weekend, he’s gone to a tattooist convention in Manchester.
I’m not going to pretend I haven’t missed him, but we both still need to have our lives outside of each other, even if it’s only for one weekend.
A part of me had been tempted to ask if I could swap my weekend to have Dylan with Mike, but he’d been good with sticking to the schedule lately, and I didn’t want to do anything to mess things up.
I enjoyed my weekend alone in the end. I spent hours reading in the bath and called my sister for the first time in too long.
Saturday evening had been a couple of glasses of wine in front of a romance film I knew Kane would never have watched, but I did miss his strong, hot body when I climbed into bed.
Sunday morning hadn’t been much fun either—lying in bed until late and cooking a hot breakfast isn’t as satisfying when you’re on your own.
So I’m happy when the front door cracks open at exactly six PM, and my son barges into the house, Mike following close behind.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I call to Dylan, but don’t get any answer.
The boy pushes past me and stomps his way up the stairs. I flinch as his bedroom door slams shut.
Mike stands in the entrance hall, his face like thunder.
“Uh-oh,” I say, assuming they’d fallen out about something. “What’s happened?”
Mike glares at me, and my stomach sinks. “Why the fuck is my son telling me he wants to get a tattoo when he’s older?”
My stomach sinks. “What?”
“Yeah. He’s being going on all weekend about all the cool tattoos your new delinquent boyfriend has and how he wants to be just like him.
You can’t date someone like that, Holly.
He’s a bad influence. What next? Is Dylan going to come home saying he wants to take drugs or that he’s going to rob a bank when he grows up? ”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, for goodness sake, Mike. Don’t be so ridiculous. Kane is a good guy.”
“I’m not being ridiculous. I don’t want you seeing him again.”
I bark laughter. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t see.”
He folds his arms and glares at me. “I can if I believe you’re putting my son at risk. You’re aware this guy you’re seeing has a criminal record?”
My blood freezes in my veins. “So? It’s from years ago when he was younger. He got caught up with a bad crowd, that’s all.”
Mike’s eyes widen. “You knew he had criminal record, and you’re still exposing our son to him? You’re starting to make me wonder if Child Protective Services should be involved.”
Rage tears through me. “Don’t you dare threaten me with that,” I spit, jabbing my finger at him. “After everything you did, sleeping with girls practically young enough to be your daughter! You don’t get to say the people I choose to be with aren’t suitable.”
His eyes narrow. “We’ll see about that.”
“Stop fighting!” Dylan’s shout breaks through our argument. I glance up to see he’s emerged from his room and is now standing at the top of the stairs. “I hate it when you fight!”
“We weren’t fighting, sweetie.”
“I’m not stupid, Mum! I’m not deaf either. I know when you’re fighting.”
“I’m just leaving, son,” Mike calls up to him. “See you next week, okay?”
The look on Dylan’s face just about breaks my heart. Tears shimmer in the boy’s eyes, and his lower lip pokes out. He has his arms wrapped tightly around his body, as though trying to protect himself against the violence of his parents’ words.
Mike goes to the door, but before he does, he hisses out of the corner of his mouth. “This isn’t over.”
I clamp my teeth together, my fists bunched, doing everything in my power to stop myself lashing out at him. How had I ever thought I had loved this man? There’s nothing in him that I see even slightly appealing now.
The door slams shut, and I’m left to plaster a smile on my face and try to act like normal for my son.
I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm the way I’m shaking with anger.
Hot tears burn the backs of my eyes, but the tears are from impotent fury more than sadness.
I hate the way Mike will always have some input into my life, especially after all the times he cheated on me.
It’s as though he can do whatever he wants, but he will always have some hold over me because of Dylan.
I want to call Kane and get him to come over—he’d be back from his convention by now—but that isn’t fair.
This is between Mike and me, and I can’t drag Kane into the middle of things every time me and my ex have a fight.
Mike might not be able to be civil to Kane, but I can’t unburden all of this onto Kane and expect him to stay out of it as well.
Instead, I do my best to act normal. I coax my son back downstairs, make him some hot chocolate, and get him to talk about what he did this weekend.
Every mention of Mike is like needles to my skin, but I force myself to keep smiling.
None of this is Dylan’s fault, and I can’t imagine what it must be like to be stuck in the middle.
I go through the normal Sunday night routine, sticking Dylan in the bath and washing his hair, and getting his uniform and bag ready for school the next day.
I struggle to keep my mind off Mike’s threat, however.
Would he really do that, and could Child Protective Services cause problems for me and Kane?
Could they even take Dylan away and give Mike full custody?
The thought terrifies me. I love that boy more than anything else in the world.
Would I really be forced to choose between him and Kane?
Of course there would be no contest—it would always be my son—but that doesn’t mean the choice won’t tear my heart into a million shreds.
Distracted, I manage to get Dylan to bed and then go back downstairs. I can’t settle, unable to concentrate enough to read a book or watch television. My hand hovers over my phone. I want to call Kane, but know I’ll probably end up crying if I do.
Eventually, I give up trying to occupy myself and climb the stairs to check on Dylan.
Pushing the bedroom door open, I instantly know something isn’t quite right.
I look for the usual lump beneath the covers, only it isn’t there, only a smooth duvet across the bed.
Is he in the bathroom? I hadn’t heard any signs of him, no water running or toilet flushing.
“Dylan,” I call out, the first flutters of worry stirring inside me. There’s no answer. “Dylan!” I call again, louder now. “Dylan, where are you?”
Still no reply comes.
My worry quickly escalates to fear. I rush from room to room, throwing open doors looking for her son. “Dylan, if you’re hiding, this isn’t funny. Come out right now. You’re frightening Mummy.”
But the house is in silence. The atmosphere has changed.
No longer do I sense the presence of another person, but instead feel distinctly alone.
I clamp my hand to my mouth. Oh, God. Where is he?
In my head, I calculate the last time I saw him.
How long has it been? Twenty minutes? Half an hour?
I thought he was tucked up comfortably in bed, but clearly he wasn’t.
How had he got past me? Had he walked out the front door and I hadn’t even noticed? Or had he slipped out the back?
Filled with panic, I race to the back door. I stare wildly out into the night. It’s dark already—that dark pressing on me now like a living, threatening thing.
“Dylan!” I yell again, almost screaming his name. “Dylan, where the hell are you?” I don’t mean to curse, but my fear has taken hold. Where is he? Is he walking the streets alone or has the worst happened—a mother’s worst possible fear—and someone has taken him?
Oh, no. No, no, no.
I pull the back door shut and run for the front of the house. I throw open the door to the street and call my son’s name again. Still in my slippers, I run out into the road, frantically turning left to right, trying to figure out which way he might have gone.
My mind starts tripping over what I need to do next.
Shit. I left my phone in the house. I have to phone Mike.
He will need to know. There’s a chance Dylan is trying to get back to his dad, or Mike might have even picked him up without telling me.
Would he really do that? I don’t think even he’s capable of snatching my son out from under my nose, but after his threat about Kane, I have to wonder.
Even so, my stomach sinks at the thought of contacting my ex-husband.
I hate speaking to him at the best of times, but now knowing I’m going to have to tell him our son is missing fills me with dread.
Will he use this against me as well? Making out like I’m a bad mother?
I don’t want to call Mike, but I have to.
If this was the other way around and Dylan had gone missing during his time at his dad’s, I would want to know right away.
With terror clutching my soul, I run back into the house. I snatch up my phone, swipe the screen, and press the phone to my ear.
“Holly?” My ex-husband’s voice comes through immediately, and I pick up on his concerned tone. We never call each other unless it has to do with Dylan.
I can barely speak, sobbing through my words. “It’s Dylan. He’s missing!”
“Missing? What do you mean missing?”
“Exactly what I just said. He was in bed last time I checked on him, and now he’s not there.”
“How long ago since you last saw him?”
“I don’t know. It must be at least half an hour now.”
“And you’re sure he’s not in the house?”
“He’s not, Mike. I’ve looked everywhere!”
“Right,” Mike says, taking charge. “Put down the phone and call the police. I’m coming straight over. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
With shaking hands, I do as he instructed, swiping the End Call button and dialling nine-nine-nine. A calm lady on the other end of the phone takes my details and tells me they’re sending someone round right away.
I don’t know what to do with myself. There’s only one person I want by my side.
Not wanting to be on the phone too long in case someone’s trying to get through with news of Dylan, I quickly swiped his number.
Kane answers after one ring. “Hey, beautiful. I was just going to call you.”
I don’t have time for small talk. “I need you here. Dylan’s missing.”
“Oh, shit. I’m on my way.”
I put down the phone and pace the house, my fingers at my mouth as I anxiously chew my nails. Where the hell has Dylan gone? I pray he’s safe. I can’t even bring myself to consider the worst possible scenario. I’ll lose my mind if anything ever happens to him.
The police are the first to arrive, two uniformed officers standing on my doorstep, asking to come in. They sit me down in my living room and my head spins with all their questions. When had I seen him last? What had he been wearing? Is everything okay at home? Does he have any reason to run away?
“Me and his dad have separated,” I admit.
“We haven’t been getting on so well lately.
Dylan’s dad doesn’t like my new boyfriend.
” I know how that sounds. I don’t miss the look exchanged between the two police officers.
I don’t want to be that woman—I’m not that woman—the one who has multiple men hanging around.
But I also know how this must appear to the police.
The doorbell rings, and I jump to my feet. I hope to see Dylan standing on the doorstep, looking contrite, but it’s Kane, which is the next best thing. I fall into his arms, crying against his chest.
“My boy,” I sob. “My baby boy is missing.”
Kane holds me tight and strokes my hair. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to find him.”
I sniff and nod against him. I hate being in the house, doing nothing. I feel so useless, but the police told me I’m best staying home in case Dylan comes back again. They said he will want to see his mother when he does.
Mike is the last to arrive. He pushes his way into the house, not bothering to knock.
“Where is he?” Mike demands as soon as he sees Kane. “Where’s my son?” He jabs a finger in Kane’s direction. “If I find out you’ve got anything to do with my son going missing, I will fucking kill you.”
One of the police officers steps in. “Now, there’s no need for language like that.”
My ex-husband turns on the officer. “This man is a goddamned criminal. He shouldn’t be allowed around children.”
I couldn’t believe he actually spouted his prejudices to a police officer. “Stop being such an idiot, Mike. This has nothing to do with Kane. If Dylan took off, it was because he was upset about you and me fighting, and that was all on your head. No one else started it.”
But Mike isn’t even listening. “I mean it, Holly. You should never have allowed this type of person around our son. What kind of mother are you, putting your own selfish needs before your child?”
“Hey, that’s enough,” Kane says, stepping in. “Holly is a fantastic mother.”
I put out my hand. “It’s okay, Kane. I can handle this.
” I take a breath and focus my anger on my ex.
Instead of shouting, I speak in a low voice, spitting out every word.
“You fucking hypocrite. After you spent five years of our marriage sleeping around, you’ve got the nerve to say I wasn’t thinking about our son!
I bet you weren’t thinking about him when you had your dick in all those other women. ”
The police officer puts a hand out to stop us.
“We need to focus on finding Dylan. It seems quite clear the boy has become distressed by this kind of anger in the house and has taken himself off somewhere. Is there anywhere you can think he might have gone? Maybe to a friend’s house or to any other family living nearby? ”
I shake my head, guilt worming its way through me. God, we’re awful people. Poor Dylan being stuck with me and Mike as parents. “No, I don’t think so. There’s nowhere else I think he’d rather be.”