Chapter 5 #3
‘Because I don’t have it. But everything is going to be okay. I promise.’ She wondered how often she could regurgitate this phrase without screaming.
A sudden yell made them both look towards the front door.
Connor stumbled from the house. His expression was one she had never seen; he looked bewildered as he tried to hold on to his laptop, tussling with a heavyset man who sneered at the boy who was trying to hang on to this one thing.
‘That’s mine!’ he yelled, his voice hoarse.
‘Tell them, Mum! It’s got everything on it! Everything, all my photos, everything!’
The sight sent a bolt of anger through her very being. How dare they treat her son this way, especially when he was already grieving?
‘For God’s sake, let him keep his laptop! What kind of people are you? He needs it and it’s got photos of him and his dad on it. Please!’ she urged Mr Ludlow.
He looked at the boy and then at her, before letting his eyes sweep over their grand, solid home.
‘Here’s the thing, Mrs McCarrick. Rules is rules.
You and your husband failed to attend the court despite the hearing being scheduled three times, and as I explained, we are now at liberty to enter your home and take goods to the value of the amount owed, unless you can pay the amount in full. ’
‘You know I can’t!’ she shouted. ‘Take all of my possessions, furniture, anything, but please let the kids keep their laptops and their things. Please!’
‘I’m afraid it doesn’t quite work like that.’ The little man shook his head. ‘The time to negotiate is in front of the judge where you failed to turn up. Put it in the lorry.’ He nodded at the laptop and then at the big man holding it on one side.
Connor let the slim silver laptop slide through his fingers. He took a deep breath and yelled, ‘You can’t do this! These are our things! How am I going to do my schoolwork? I’ve got projects on there that I need to hand in next term!’
‘You won’t be at that school next term, Connor!
’ Nina blurted, instantly regretting it.
‘We can’t afford the fees. You have to leave.
I am sorry! I am so sorry!’ All her consideration over the last couple of days, and instead it all came out in this rushed, unconsidered outburst that tumbled from her mouth in an unguarded moment.
She knew it was as damaging as it was shocking.
There was a beat of silence while the news settled in the boys’ minds. Declan began to whimper as Connor sank down onto his knees on the gravel and held his chest, struggling to catch a breath. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he screamed. ‘What the fuck is happening?’
‘Connor!’ She walked over to him and laid her hand on his back. ‘Listen to me. We will find a way. It’ll be fine. We will get through this. It’s only things, just stuff . . .’
He looked up at her, his expression tortured.
‘How can you keep saying that? Do you think it makes things better? Because it doesn’t!
It’s not going to be fine, is it, Mum? I don’t think anything is going to be fine ever again.
And it’s not “just stuff”. They are packing up our life and taking it away, bit by bit.
’ He placed his hands on his thighs and closed his eyes as he took deep breaths.
‘Actually, on reflection, you are right. If you need the laptop for educational purposes, then it is exempt,’ Mr Ludlow interrupted, before handing Connor back the laptop. The boy stared at him, unable to thank him.
Declan clung to her. She could feel his small body shaking. ‘I want my dad,’ he whispered. ‘I want my dad.’
‘Well Dad’s not here, is he? You’ve got me, Declan! That’s it, just me!’ Nina yelled, then instantly felt aghast at the look of horror on her son’s face. He released his grip on her and let his arms fall to his sides, sobbing openly.
Nina sought the words that might offer comfort, remove the harm she’d done.
But how could she explain to her kids the struggle to reconcile the man they loved and missed, the man who might be able to get them out of the situation and who always had a plan, with the man who had led them into this mess and left her to pick up the pieces?
She shepherded the boys inside as dusk descended.
They sat at the breakfast bar, watching as the men tramped from room to room, over the beautiful oak flooring and onto the pale carpets in their heavy, dirty shoes.
The men went upstairs, returning almost immediately with a television set.
They made the trip over and over, with tablets in their arms and watches taken from Finn’s bedside cabinet.
They got into a rhythm, handing the smaller items to Mr Ludlow, who made a note with his pencil, loading the bigger things up onto the van. One of the men smiled at her.
‘Don’t you smile at me! How dare you? Do you take pleasure from your work?
What kind of person comes into a home and takes possessions from children?
’ she spat. The man continued to smile. Nina felt impotent and exhausted.
It was an effort to remain upright. ‘Are you hungry?’ she whispered to her sons, suddenly aware they hadn’t eaten.
They both shook their heads. She was relieved, unsure how she would have managed in the kitchen with what remained of their plates and cutlery.
‘I didn’t know what to do, Mum,’ Connor explained. ‘They sort of rushed at the door and I only opened it because I wanted to get inside.’
‘Connor, you have to stop going over it. I have told you it’s not your fault!’ she snapped again. ‘They would have got in anyway. I’d have let them in. It’s not your fault. And over-analysing it will not help anyone.’
He stared at her with his eyes blazing. Two men sidled past the open doorway, carrying a leather chair between them.
Nina closed her eyes, unable to watch the parade of their belongings, things she and Finn had chosen together, worked for and kept in their home, the fabric of their lives being unstitched piece by piece.
The trouser press, digital radio, foot spa, the oversized lamps from the sitting room, her dinner service, which had been on display in the dining room, pictures from the walls, the wireless telephone from the study and three of her designer handbags from the front hallway.
The garage yielded similar booty, including the family’s bikes.
Finally one of the men walked into the kitchen and asked for her car keys.
‘My car keys? You have to be kidding me,’ she said with incredulity. It hadn’t occurred to her that they might take the car.
The man nodded and cracked his knuckles.
‘I need to empty it.’ She exchanged a look with Connor and went out to the front drive, removing the handbag she had forgotten about from the boot and her make-up bag from the console.
‘I will be taking the bag.’ Mr Ludlow fixed his beady, piggy eyes on the Mulberry badge.
‘But it’s—’ she began.
‘I know,’ he interrupted her. ‘Of great sentimental value, I’m sure, but you already have one handbag on your person and this one has value.’ Nina handed over the empty bag. She had been going to say, ‘It’s full of vomit,’ but he had cut her short. Let him find out the hard way.
She made her way back into the kitchen and sat next to Connor.
‘Are you okay?’
He gave a single, brief nod, his mouth set in a thin line. His laptop rested under his palm, as if he were afraid to lose contact with it.
Darkness drew in. ‘I know!’ She banged the table top. ‘Let’s play a game.’
‘I don’t want to play a game,’ Connor snapped.
‘Well, this is not about what we want, this is about staying focused.’ She thought it best to distract the kids from the events going on outside of the kitchen door.
‘Okay, I’ll start.’ She nudged Declan, who looked like he was a million miles away. ‘We have to go through the alphabet, taking turns to think of an appropriate lettered answer for our topic. So, let’s start with countries. A, America! Your turn Dec.’
‘B, Belgium.’ His voice was small.
‘I don’t want to play.’ Connor stared at her.
‘You just got a strike, two more and you are out!’ she yelled. ‘Try again. C,’ she prompted.
‘C, Colombia,’ he snarled.
‘Bravo! Colombia! My turn. D, Denmark.’
Declan tapped the table, ‘E . . .’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘I can’t think of one.’
She and Connor stared at him. ‘Okay, here’s a clue, Dec. You live there.’ She winked.
‘Egypt!’ he yelled.
Nina’s laughter, in spite of the dire circumstances, was genuine. Her tears quickly pooled; she wiped them away with her hand. ‘Oh, Dec. I love you so much. Egypt! I wish we did live in bloody Egypt, far away from Mr Ludlow and his horrible helpers.’
Even Connor had a slight smile on his lips. ‘Egypt!’ he muttered as he shook his head.
An hour later she made her way out to the front of the house to check on progress.
She heard Mr Ludlow shouting ‘Back her up!’ as one of the men reversed the lorry to the tuneless beep that accompanied the manoeuvre.
He put on the brakes and jumped down from the cab to help his colleagues load the desks and the velvet sofas from the cinema room, along with three or four large mirrors.
Nina pictured strolling through The Lanes in Brighton and coming across the antique shop, pulling a reluctant Finn through the door and leaving with their beautiful mirror, paid for and waiting to be shipped to their stunning new home.
She felt like she should cry, but was too numb, too shattered to produce tears.
Mr Ludlow gave her a leaflet, along with some flimsy duplicate yellow sheets – an inventory listing all the items they had removed – before doffing an invisible cap at her and shutting the front door behind him. She listened as the man driving her car over-revved the engine. It made her wince.