Chapter Fourteen
Frantically, I redialled my parents’ telephone number. It rang unanswered. Shit. What the hell was going on in their house? There was only one way to find out.
I grabbed my handbag and keys. Within minutes I was roaring along the rural lanes of Little Waterlow, keeping my fingers crossed that a tractor wouldn’t appear around the next bend.
Minutes later I was on the M20. Eyes scanning all three lanes for gaps in the traffic. Daring to break the speed limit in order to knock time off the journey.
My brain kept replaying my father’s chilling scream. What had Mum done? Her behaviour was getting increasingly erratic. More and more disruptive. This situation couldn’t go on. It just couldn’t.
I roared into my parents’ quiet residential road and performed an emergency stop on their driveway. Flinging the driver’s door wide, I leapt from the vehicle, not even bothering to shut the door. Arm extended, spare key in hand, I fairly flew into their hallway.
‘MUM!’ I bellowed.
‘Is that you, Freya?’ came my mother’s voice. Ha! Hell would freeze over before my sister dealt with any parental emergency. ‘I’m in the bathroom,’ Mum trilled. ‘I’m keeping your dad company.’
I belted up the stairs.
‘Maggie?’ my father called out. His voice was reedy.
I edged my way into the bathroom, taking care not to push the door into my father. He was sprawled across the tiles. My mother had put the loo seat down. She was sitting upon it, as if it were a chair. She greeted my wild-eyed expression with a smile.
‘Hello, darling,’ she chirped. ‘Your father has been enjoying a little lay down, although it beats me why he can’t use the sofa. Are you comfortable down there, Trevor?’
‘God’s sake,’ I breathed.
I hunkered down by my father. He had cuts and grazes over his forehead and cheeks. There was a huge bruise on the bridge of his nose, which looked swollen. I wondered if it was broken.
‘Dad, what happened?’ I asked anxiously.
‘I fell over,’ he said.
‘Before that,’ I grimaced.
The television’s remote control lay abandoned on the floor. I grabbed it. There was blood all over the buttons. The plastic panel that usually housed two batteries was broken. ‘I could make a bad joke about assault and battery’ – I waggled the handset at my father – ‘except this situation isn’t funny.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ My father gave a weak grin. ‘If I’d been murdered, a certain person might have been charged and put in a Duracell.’
‘Who’s been murdered?’ interrupted Mum.
‘No one,’ I said. ‘Thankfully,’ I added, under my breath. ‘I don’t need to be Einstein to work out what’s happened here.’
‘I had a fall,’ Dad insisted. His eyes flashed me a warning. He wasn’t going to betray Mum. Not in a million years. ‘A fall. Do you understand?’
‘How on earth did you manage that, Trevor?’ tutted my mother. ‘You should take more care.’
‘Can you get up?’ I asked. ‘Or do you feel like something could be broken?’
‘I’m not in any pain.’ Dad shook his head. ‘I just need a hand. My legs aren’t strong enough to push my body upright. That’s all.’
That’s all. Nothing major. Laying on one’s back like a stranded beetle was simply a minor inconvenience. Inside my head, I was screaming with frustration.
‘Right, let’s try and get you up.’
My mother immediately shifted off the loo seat.
‘I don’t need any help,’ she said indignantly. ‘How DARE you treat me like a child.’
‘Sorry, Mum,’ I apologised. ‘I was actually talking to Dad.’
Her chin jutted for a moment as she hovered on the edge of confrontation. And then her eyes clouded over. She’d forgotten what she’d been about to say.
‘Could you possibly go outside’ – I suggested – ‘and wait on the landing. There isn’t enough room in here for the three of us.’
‘Of course, darling,’ she said sweetly. She shuffled carefully around my father’s splayed legs and took herself off. Moments later, the door to the bedroom opened and then closed. I knew she would already have forgotten that I was here. She would now spend ages in her room. Sometimes she was there for hours, happily emptying out her wardrobe, or unravelling toilet rolls.
I took my father’s hands in mine.
‘Okay, ready? After three,’ I said.
‘Oof,’ he gasped, as I hauled him upright. One of his hands slipped out of mine. He quickly grabbed the edge of the washbasin to steady himself. ‘All fine and dandy,’ he declared, although he was trembling slightly.
‘How do you feel?’ I asked, reluctant to let go of his hand.
‘I’m right as rain,’ he assured.
Of course he was! My father was never anything but. Get assaulted by a motorist? Right as rain. Fall over a kerb? Right as rain. Can’t get up off the floor? Right as rain.
‘Let’s get you downstairs,’ I said. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
‘You don’t need to fuss, Maggie.’ Dad shook me off. ‘It was simply an accident.’
‘I think a doctor should look at your nose,’ I suggested. ‘It’s swollen.’
‘It’s fine,’ he insisted. His tone had an edge, which spoke volumes.
No doctors. No explanations. No busybodies muscling in. Especially where your mother is concerned.
Minutes later, my father was seated at the kitchen table, sipping his tea.
‘Look, Dad,’ I said gently. I placed the remote control on the table, next to his cup. ‘We both know that Mum assaulted you.’
He pursed his lips.
‘I fell,’ he said obstinately. He picked up his cup. For a moment, it wobbled alarmingly. Tea slopped on to the table. He took a sip before speaking. ‘Don’t interfere in our lives, Maggie.’
‘Pardon?’ I said. My mouth dropped open. ‘I’ve just belted up the motorway to help you. Hardly interfering.’
‘You know what I mean,’ he said gruffly.
My father’s eyes held mine as he once again put the cup to his lips. The air began to vibrate with tension. Carefully, he set down his cup. ‘I’ve had Social Services on the phone.’
I let out an involuntary gasp, then instantly checked myself. Wow. That was quick. Hurrah. Relief flooded through me.
‘I did tell you that I’d been in touch with them.’
My tone was defensive. Dad picked up his tea again. For one tense moment, I thought he was going to throw it at me.
‘You did tell me,’ he acknowledged.
‘So when are they visiting?’ I asked.
‘They’re not. I told the woman at the other end of the phone – a nice enough lady I’m sure – to spend her funding on someone else. And then I invited her to fuck off.’
‘Dad,’ I snapped. ‘This has got to stop. I’ve had enough of this stress. I’m done with the worry. What if Mum hadn’t accidentally called me? What if I hadn’t driven over? You’d still be lying on the bathroom floor.’
‘There’s always Freya to fall back upon,’ Dad shrugged.
‘And how would you have raised Freya?’ I countered. ‘By pointing your remote control at the bathroom wall and zapping my sister from her office?’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous,’ my father tutted.
‘No, Dad. You’re the one being ridiculous. I shall phone Social Services and reinstate the assessment they were no doubt trying to arrange.’
‘There will be no assessment,’ my father exhorted.
‘I’m not arguing with you,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘And now, as you deem yourself perfectly okay, you must excuse me. I have things to do.’
‘What things?’ my father scoffed. ‘We both know you don’t work. Occasionally, you do a bit of point-and-click. Hardly proper employment.’
‘Well, thanks for that, Dad,’ I said. ‘It’s good to be reminded that my job isn’t worthwhile, even though my point-and-click sees me paying tax and national insurance like any other worker.’
‘Whatever,’ Dad sniffed. ‘It’s not like Freya’s job.’
‘I’m going now,’ I said carefully. ‘Before I say something I might regret.’
‘You’d better not be off to visit Social Services, Maggie. If you do, I’ll never talk to you again.’
‘I’m not off to Social Services,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘So where are you going?’ my father demanded.
I paused in the kitchen doorway. Gave him a defiant look.
‘To see a man about a dog.’