Chapter 64
Jamie
The chaos in the house can’t drown out the voices in my head.
They echo from far away, from a past that refuses to fade, mixing with the present — my voice, his, my sister’s, Ian’s.
They overlap, collide, and clamour to be heard.
But in all this noise, I can follow only one.
It’s the quietest, the most intimate. Maybe it’s just the only one I want to hear.
I watch the O’Connors busy with their own bullshit, and then I watch him.
He stands off to the side, even though we’re here for his son.
I wonder if it’s because of me, because of what I said.
Is he thinking about how to take Ryan down, or how to move on from me?
Is he hurting? Will he suffer, or just forget about me in a week or two and go back to his life before I slipped into his world uninvited, with no right and no plan to stay?
I wonder what I’ll do tonight, tomorrow, next month — whose eyes will be on me, whose mouth I’ll dream of, whose body I’ll want beside mine.
“A beer, mate?” Nick asks, offering a freshly opened bottle.
“Something stronger?”
He grins. “You’re in luck. I’m the only one here who knows where Chris keeps the good stuff.”
I stand. “Lead the way.”
Nick digs around in the plant by the entrance until he finally pulls out a key, looking well pleased with himself.
We slip past the noise and head for a cabinet at the bottom of the stairs.
He unlocks it, grabs a bottle of whiskey, and nods for me to follow him into the kitchen.
It’s a brief escape from the crowd now that the room is empty.
He takes two glasses from the cupboard and pours a couple of fingers into each.
“Don’t stop,” I tell him with a sigh.
“Uh, shitty day?”
“One of many.”
“Too many people, too much noise?”
“Among other things.”
“Does the presence of someone make you uncomfortable?”
I set the glass down and motion for him to pour more.
“I’d say so,” he mutters, refilling it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“With you? Not a hope.”
“Yet you weren’t so shy about talking when it was about me.”
“You’re a dickhead. You need your face shoved in the shit and left there a while before you start thinking straight.”
“And you, on the other hand, are better than me. Better than all of us.”
“I never said that.”
“You know, some things don’t look you in the eye. They just happen.”
“That’s fairly deep, now.”
“And there’s damn all you can do about it.”
“Where are you going with this, Nick?”
“If it finds you, it won’t let go until you give in.”
“What the fuck are we even talking about?”
“Like a dog with a bone, this thing — whatever it is — locks its jaw on you. A dog gnaws at his bone until it's in bits, and even when he finally buries it, he never truly forgets where it is. Same with this thing; once it finds you, it doesn’t let go. It just waits, hanging over you, until you finally do something about it.”
“Whiskey hurts you.”
“And something else hurts you.”
“Christ, how much shit can you talk in two minutes?”
“It hurts, yeah. You’re right to be afraid. It hits you hard and makes everything feel pointless. But when it brings you back, it drags you back to life. It can creep up on you bit by bit or smack you all at once. Only the result matters.”
“Given that I’ve no idea what you’re talking about… what exactly is that result?”
Nick laughs and knocks back the rest of his glass. “You’ll find out when you finally crawl out of whatever hole you’re hiding in. Just don’t leave it too long, or whoever’s digging might get sick of the job.”
“I swear I got lost.”
“You’ll find your way back, or maybe he’ll find it for you. He seems sharp enough, sharper than you anyway.” He sets a hand on my shoulder and looks over.
“What the fuck? I swear I’ll cut off his balls this time! I don’t give a fuck if it’s his birthday!” Nick bolts away, and I turn to see what’s going on, just in time to catch Evan messing around with Casey.
I shake my head, resigned. No one in this family is spared. I pour myself another drink, and now Nick’s voice joins the others nagging in my head, just as unwanted.
I head back to the others and lean against the living room doorframe.
I’ve had too much to drink, and the room’s a bit sideways.
I force my eyes open to focus on the people.
Ryan is handing out glasses, lining us up for a toast. When he reaches my sister, she shakes her head and stares at the floor, cheeks burning.
Ian, beside her, smiles, pulls her in, and kisses her temple.
“Holy shit!” Ryan says. “That can’t be what I think it is, right?”
Not tonight, for the love of God. I can’t pretend.
“Shut the fuck up, Ryan! This is not the time,” Ian says.
“The time for what?” Chris asks.
“Oh, Jesus. In this fucking family you can’t keep a secret for even one night,” Ian snaps.
“What secret?” Nick cuts in. “Speak the fuck up!”
“Christ, you really are a bunch of losers. None of you has realised Riley is pregnant?”
There he is: the worthy son of the Doctor.
“What?” Karen actually jumps off the sofa.
Riley looks at Ian, waiting for a nod. He smiles at her, then shrugs.
“We only just found out,” she says. “We wanted to wait for a better time.”
“Oh my God!” Karen is the first to lose it.
“How the fuck did you know?” Ryan asks Evan.
“I pay attention,” Evan says. “It’s not the first time she’s refused a drink, and in this family, God knows we all need one.”
Ryan slaps him affectionately on the back of the head. Around us, voices rise in excited shouts as everyone crowds in around Riley and Ian, who suddenly find themselves at the centre of attention.
I look away from the scene — a knot of happiness and pain tightening in my chest — and turn my gaze to the right.
His eyes. The confirmation.
I meet the Doctor’s gaze, and he holds mine.
He observed. He understood.
He found.
He found me, despite my stupid hiding place. He uncovered my fears, my anguish, my pain.
My guilt.
He found everything, even though it lay scattered in pieces across my memories. With those steady, almost magical hands, it won’t take him long to fit it all back together.