Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
ASH
Calla is becoming my new favourite habit.
During the last two weeks, my days revolve around the next time I’ll be seeing her, which is getting harder.
Time is tight, what with my shifts at The Daisy Bar, band practice and trying to spend a few hours with Mum.
I haven’t been busking at all because I’d rather spend any spare minute I have seeing Calla.
She’s like my reward at the end of the day.
Mum hasn’t been back home during that time.
She sleeps in my room while I sleep on the sofa; well, some of the time.
I don’t mention I spend half the night at Calla’s, getting home before she wakes, but I’m sure she knows.
The one time Mum caught me walking through the door; I told her I’d been busking.
She laughed at that, well she would. It wasn’t even six am and I didn’t have my guitar.
Mum has an idea there’s a girl on the scene, but never asks any questions.
I have no problem with her being around because she doesn’t need to know everything about me, twenty-four-seven.
Mum has always respected my privacy, although I’m sure if I offered her the chance to meet Calla, she’d bite my hand off.
I’ve never introduced her to any girl I’ve been seeing because I’ve never met anyone important enough.
Calla is different, I’d take her home tomorrow, but I’m trying to keep a lid on us.
I’m thinking these things over while having dinner with Mum and Tommy, something I try to do as much as possible.
She made cottage pie tonight which is one of Tommy’s favourites—so he says.
I’m not sure who’s enjoying her stay with us most, Mum or Tom.
Home-cooked food is one benefit instead of the takeaway crap we usually eat or toast and Marmite.
Plus, the house has never been so clean.
It’s while we’re finishing up, there’s a knock on the door.
It’s not unusual for anyone to turn up any time here.
Maybe it’s Brett calling in to jam for a while.
It’s the kind of thing he does when he has stuff on his mind.
Or it could be one of Tommy’s latest conquests making an appearance.
However, there hasn’t been anyone else since Angie came on the scene. At least, I don’t think there has.
While Tom makes my mum laugh about something which happened to him during a gig once, I get up to answer the door.
He’s talking about this real dive bar we played a while ago.
Getting paid with drinks instead of money, Tommy got smashed and drank the bar near dry.
I’m listening to him, laughing away while hoping to fuck he doesn’t give too much info on what happened next.
It doesn’t end well for me, seeing as I ended up in some random girls’ bed and couldn’t find the boys the next morning.
I laugh to myself when I think back on it as I open the door, but my good mood drops like a stone.
“Is your mother with you?” He doesn’t even have the decency to say hello and looks straight past me, down the hall. The door to the kitchen is ajar, and it’s evident from her laughter, she’s here.
“She doesn’t want to see you, Dad.”
“I want to hear it from her, not you.” My reflexes take over when my arm shoots in front of him and blocks the entrance he attempts to barge through.
His blackened stare meets my eyes as if he hates me.
Okay then, if he wants to play this game, I’m okay with it.
My teeth grind while my arm tenses to ensure he won’t get past me. “I don’t think so.”
Raising his voice, he talks too close to my face, the smell of whiskey nearly knocking me out. “You don’t get a choice. Move before I show you my hand.”
I’ve never seen this side to my dad—his face is bright pink and his nostrils flare in time with his ticking jaw.
I wonder what the hell happened to him. Does he not realise I’m not twelve anymore?
I’m a twenty-one-year-old man with a least three inches of height over him.
Sticking my chest in his face, I pull back my shoulders to prove my point, but it doesn’t make him back down any less, and by this time, Mum has heard the commotion at the door.
“You heard our son; I have nothing to say to you.” She steps out from behind me with Tommy close at her side. “Please, just go. Leave us alone.”
“You’re not talking sense, Liz. We need to talk.”
“When you’re sober and can hold a decent conversation, then we can talk. Right now, you should leave,” Mum says, her tone firm.
“I didn’t mean what I said Liz, please believe me.”
When Mum stays silent, I try to reason with him. “Come on, Dad, it’s time to leave. I can take you home.” I try to take his arm, but he shakes me off.
“Who the hell do you think you are. We wouldn’t have these problems if it weren’t for you and your pie in the sky ideas.
” He tries to force his way past me again, but I hold him back with little effort.
He insists, “You’re in my way you little shit, now move before I land you one. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Make your mind up, Dad.” Now I’m the one gritting my teeth.
His voice takes on a softer tone when he ignores me and calls to Mum over my shoulder.
“Talk to me, love. Just five minutes.” Shit, he knows when to put it on.
I’m hoping she doesn’t fall for it. I turn my head, looking over my shoulder to catch her in my sight.
Her head shakes, “No,” and her eyes widen when she looks at him.
“You’ll only try to persuade me to come home, but if I do, you’ll hurt me all over again, and I’m done, Harry. I’m not having it.”
“He hurt you?” I ask, my jaw aching from my clenched teeth.
“Not physically love, but—” she looks to the floor. “I shouldn’t be the one to tell our son what happened, not when it isn’t my fault. It should be you, Harry. Tell him exactly why I can’t be with you anymore.”
“Liz, please,” he tries to reason, but I push him back a little further.
“No. I can’t take the lies—”
“What’s going on?” I pose the question to my mum, but she is staring straight at Dad, waiting for him to respond. He takes his bottom lip with his teeth. It’s obvious he isn’t prepared to explain.
“Come on, Harry. Tell your son how much money you’ve gambled away over the years because I’ve lost count and actually, I’m not sure I know how much myself.
Why don’t you start with the money put aside for the mortgage last month?
Or the two men who came knocking, demanding you paid them for the credit you built up during one of your card games? ”
I stare back at the man I looked up to as a kid as his nostrils flare, his teeth grind, and all his pent-up anger rises to the surface. All I see is red. “You piece of shit,” I edge forward, pushing my arm further into his chest, while he tries, and fails, to force me back.
“How could you treat her so badly,” I emphasise, leaning hard against him until Tommy is at my back. “That’s enough, man.” His hand is on my shoulder, holding me back, but I keep my father in place. I’m not letting him off the hook.
“Take a look at yourself, boy. You’re still hanging onto her apron strings like a little girl. You say I treat her badly, but you’re taking advantage of her. I know she’s buying your books for university.”
“Oh, fuck you. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I edge forward again, but it doesn’t stop him shouting in her direction again. “He’s the problem, Liz and we both know it.”
“I suggest you shut the fuck up.” I will lose it if he carries on.
“I suggest you show some respect and face the truth, boy. You and that band of yours will never make it. You’re not good enough. All these fancy ideas of becoming a musician are going nowhere.”
My eyes narrow towards him, “What are you talking about.” Has Mum told him about the offer from Election?
“Who do you think paid for your fancy solicitor?”
My stomach drops. “Wh-what?”
He laughs, “Yeah, that’s right. Your mother took the money from our joint account, and when I confronted her, she had to come clean and tell me about you signing up with that flash bastard, Hill.”
My grip of him loosens while I try to get my head together, then glance back to Mum. She looks as if she might burst any minute.
“You bastard Harry Chambers. How dare you say such a thing to our son.”
“Are you denying it then?” Dad says with a stupid grin on his face while Mum glares back at him. “I thought not. Not so clever now are you, boy. Getting your mum to steal from me like that.”
I shake my head, “Fuck, I would never—”
“Yeah, yeah. Make all the excuses you like, but you’re just a fucking bloodsucker. Always have been.”
“Enough now, Harry.” Mum is now right by my side. “Don’t you ever talk to your son or me like that again. It’s our money, not yours, and I have every right to invest in Ashton’s future if I want to. It’s better than pouring it down the drain like you do every week.”
“I should have known you’d take his side,” Dad says, shoving into me.
It’s at this point, his words register and so does the grin on his face. If he thinks he has me, he can think again. “You arsehole. Don’t try to cover your shit up with mine. I’ll pay Mum back, but you’ll never be able to make up for all the years of hurt and worry you’ve caused her.”
He’s not even sorry for his arsehole ways.
“That was money your mother stole from me, and I want it back, or I call the police.”
“You wouldn’t have a fucking leg to stand on. Mum is entitled to half of everything you own, and I’ll make sure she gets every penny. That’s if you haven’t wasted it all away by now.”
“With what? All the money you make when you become a star?” His laughter vibrates against my skin.
I could rip his head off for being such a wanker, and the worst thing is, he doesn’t stop there.
“Keep telling yourself you’re going to make it.
You’re fucking delusional boy. All this music business is bollocks.
Your head is in the god-damn clouds, you know that?
You’ll never make it, and your fucking mother can drown with you.
You know, she wouldn’t be anywhere without me, and you will go the same way. ”
“You think she enjoys the life you give her now?” I huff out a laugh, “Jesus, you have low standards.”
“Do I really, boy, well I have higher standards than you. I’ve seen the little tart you’ve been hanging around with. You know who her mother is? The town slut, that’s who.”
I snap, “You fucking wanker. Don’t you dare badmouth her.
” I forget how strong I am and easily push him away from our front door.
I’m undoubtedly too rough judging by the way he stumbles backwards, falling straight on his arse.
Another stare-off ensues between us while he picks himself up off the path.
Then he tries his luck again, this time putting as much power into his charge as he can muster.
I don’t let him get through the door, knocking him back against the frame.
My elbow wedges under his chin, while the other hand clenches into a tight fist; poised to smash against his face.
The stale whiskey smell hits my senses again, causing the anger I’m trying so hard to keep contained, to boil over in the pit of my stomach.
My narrowed stare is focused directly to his soulless eyes, while my jaw tightens to the point of pain.
Meeting his eyes with mine, I just manage to say what I need to before losing it.
“She is a better person than you’ll ever be. ”
I hear Mum in the background, shouting, “Don’t do it, Ash. It will be you who gets in trouble, not him. Oh, God. Ash, listen to me.” Subconsciously, I hear the panic in her voice, but stand firm. “Tommy, take care of my mum while I sort this fucker out.”
“No, Tommy, please for me. You’ve got to stop him from doing any harm, please.”
Just a short second later, a firm hand rests on my shoulder. “Let it go, man. He’s not worth the record.” When I don’t loosen my grip, Tommy’s hand grips my shoulder. “Ash leave it. Think about what this will do to Mrs C.”
I do think about it; all the crap my dad has given me over the years, the verbal beatings I took, mostly without Mum’s knowledge.
But Tommy is right, and I know if I start laying into him, it’s likely I won't stop. With a reluctant step, I pull away, knowing it’s the right thing to do.
Then as my arm releases his neck from my hold, I catch the poison in his mumbled, “Jumped up little arse wipe,” before his fist smacks into my face.
Without thinking, my upper body spins towards him and I land a punch to his chest. I knock him hard to the wall; gasping for breath and unstable on his feet, but I keep him there.
My blood-covered nose is so close to his while my body shakes to stay in control.
Hatred replaces the rational part of me, and for a few seconds, I glare at him.
It registers with me how small he is, yet still taller than Mum; how fucking pathetic he is to gain his confident ego from intimidating her.
Slowly, like a fading note in reverse, the volume of Mum’s voice crying out my name in fear, increases.
Tommy uses both hands to pin back my upper arms, pulling me from behind, trying to keep me from doing any further damage.
Only then do I realise I have to hold back.
Finally, I let go, but not without one last ram of my shoulder into his chest, knocking him sideways against the door frame. “Never come back here and don’t you ever try to contact her again or I’ll do you for assault.”
He’s silent as I walk away, immediately holding out my arms, wrapping my sobbing mum up in comfort. “I won’t let him hurt you again, I promise.”
As soon as Tommy pushes him towards the gate, he’s shouting the odds about calling the police.
I would love him to, then I can tell them about the years of mental shit he gave not only to Mum but also to me.
That arrogant arsehole has some nerve showing up here.
I can’t risk him turning up again when I might not be around, and my mum will be on her own.
I know now, the only way forward to protect her is to sign the contract with Election as soon as possible.