Read Ghosts in the Morning Online
Authors: Will Thurmann
Anita nodded. ‘Yes, Andy, I know. Girls like us don’t do counselling.’
‘Amen.’ I said. It was true,
girls like us
didn’t believe in counselling. Sure, it was supposed to have its merits,
but it was hard to take advice from some over-educated, over-keen graduate who had grown up in a cosy, middle-class family
, who hadn’t a clue what it was like to be without a family, who had never known what it was to feel like a piece of cheap meat, never felt the nails of an old man scraping their thighs
, or the choking of a greasy rag stuffed in their mouth
...
‘Come on then Andy, enough of that morbid stuff, let’s get shopping,’ Anita said.
I downed the last drops of my wine and headed back out into the throng.
Chapter 12
‘Morning, Mum.
Looks like
I’ve beaten Daniel out of bed, have I?
’
‘They think it was just a fight, that’s all
, just a fight.
.
.’
‘Mum? Are you alright? What are you
going
on about? A fight, what fight?’
I shook my head clear, I hadn’t been aware I had spoken aloud. ‘Oh, nothing, Ian, nothing, nothing at all, just, um, was just thinking aloud, about um, some detective programme I watched the other night, that’s all
, just...er...suddenly realised why something happened on it, er...so, dear, how are you this morning, did you sleep well.
’
‘
Like a newborn babe, Mum. Certainly beats some of the places I’ve been sleeping in, and there’s no risk of bedbugs either, so that in itself makes for a good night’s sleep. Listen,
um, you wouldn’t
mind doing
me a bacon
sandwich
, Mum, would you?
Or a bacon toastie, yeah, that’d be nice.
I’m starving, and I need some energy.’
I
looked at Ian, ready to moan at him for being lazy –
why don’t you make your own bloody bacon toastie -
but I shrugged
and turned on the grill. It was better to have something to do, stop my mind wandering. I had been thinking about what I had read in the
paper about the football player.
‘Police are still appealing for witnesses to come forward. It is believed that Mr. Tolley was involved in an altercation earlier in the evening at the Lioness Pub, resulting in Mr. Tolley being ejected from the premises
. They
have asked anyone with any information on this earlier incident
, or anyone who was at the Lioness Pub that night,
to come forward
,
although the
y
have refused to
release any further details about this earlier incident
’
.
I looked at Ian. He was wearing a suit and tie, it looked incongruous with his long hair and tan. He looked like a surfer on his way to a
reluctant
court appearance.
‘You’re looking very smart, Ian, what’s the occasion?’
‘Ah yes,
Mum, thank you, well,
I’m going to pop round town to some of the recruitment agencies. I figured now I’m back
that
I may as well get on with it and look for a job.
I don’t want to let the moss grow under my
feet and all that.
’
‘It’s grass.’
‘Eh?’
‘The saying. It’s “
don’t let the grass grow under your feet
”. Not moss.
But a
nyway,
I wouldn’t have thought you need to wear a suit for the
agencies
, don’t you just need to go through your CV with them
.’
‘You only get one chance to make a first impression, Mum. I can’t have them thinking I’m some sort of hippy, I don’t reckon they would put as much effort in finding me a job.’
‘Have you asked your father if he’s got anything at his place? Or maybe he knows someone who’s looking?’
‘Er, firstly, no thanks, I don’t fancy working in the same office as Dad.
I can just imagine the crap I’d have to put up with, people thinking I’d got the job just ‘cos of Dad. But
yes, I
did
mention it to him, he said he’d ask around.’
I flipped the bac
on onto the grill and dropped two slice of
bread into the toaster.
It popped straight back up. I pushed it down. Again it popped up.
I pushed it down again.
‘
Work, you
s
tupid fucking thing,’
I shouted.
Ian was at my side, his hand on my arm. ‘Mum, Mum, calm down! Look, it’s just not switched on at the wall. Here, look.’ Ian reached across and pushed the switch at the plug. Then he gently eased the bread down until you could hear a click.
I sighed and Ian looked at me. ‘Mum, are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry Ian, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit...a bit tired, that’s all.’
Ian put his arms around me and squeezed. ‘I love you Mum,’ he said. ‘Now, go on, take your cup of coffee and go and sit down for a bit. I can make my own bacon sarnie. No, no buts...go on.’
I trudged off to the lounge, like a scolded child.
I took a sip of coffee and closed my eyes.
I wanted a drink, but it was too early
.
I knew it was too early
but still...
Maybe I was drinking a l
ittle too much recently, maybe I should ease off a little, but
I was sure
it wasn’t that bad,
it was hardly like I was an alcoholic. A
glass here and there, it was a comfort
, that’s all
.
Time drifted. Images flashed through my head of blood and bone, dripping
red
...I felt a brush on my cheek as Ian kissed me, then the slam of the door as he left... I saw a picture of waves crashing on rocks and saw a man sinking beneath those waves, I saw a faint red reflective light on the back of a bicycle...
‘Morning, Mum. Well, nearly afternoon, I suppose.’
Jolted, I opened my eyes. Daniel was sitting next to me on the sofa dressed in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His voice was soft and he had a sad look in his eyes.
I rubbed my eyes, felt the scratch of grit in the corners.
‘Are you okay, Daniel, what’s up
? You loo
k
really...I don’t know...really mi
serable?’ The anger that I’d felt towards Daniel over that girl, what was her name...Jadie-Lee, that was it...it all dissipated on seeing the pain cross his face
. He
was still my son, I could never not love him.
‘Oh, I don’t know Mum, I’m just a bit worried about work, you know
.
I mean Frank doesn’t have a lot of jobs coming up at the moment, and he said he reckons it’s going to get worse. He doesn’t think he’ll have much
- if any -
work for me after Christmas. All of my mates have got a proper job,
you know,
most of them work in banks or trust companies and, well, I’m always skint and they’ve always got plenty of cash to go out. You know I want to move out, get my own flat, but I’ve got no chance of that right n
ow, have I?’ Daniel’s voice had a forlorn quaver.
Daniel must have been upset. He hadn’t been this open with me, talked to me like this, in ages.
‘But it’s not so bad here, is it,
Daniel?’ I said. ‘I mean, you don’t have to go anywhere, your Dad and I
are hardly kicking you out
.’
‘No, I know you’re not, I don’t mean that, I just
.
..I just want my own space, that’s all.’ Daniel looked at me, and I heard a catch in his voice. ‘And, well, I kind of liked Jadie-Lee - ’
Ah, so now we were getting to the nub of it
, ‘- no, Mum, don’t look at me like that
, I know she’s
a bit younger than me, but she is
nearly sixteen, and she’s mature for her age, and I really
do
like her.’
‘But-’
‘No, don’t say anything, Mum, I know you disapprove but it doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s seeing some other fucking twat now, some idiot called Robin – sorry, I didn’t mean to swear like that. Oh, I dunno, I’m just a bit...I guess, a bit mixed up at the moment.’
‘That makes two of us,’ I mumbled to myself. I looked at my son
.
I knew I hadn’t been paying enough attention recently to my family, but,
lately it seemed I di
dn’t
have the energy. Maybe it was more than that,
maybe
I
didn’t even have the desire anymore to continually worry about
the things going on in my family’s lives,
there were too many things to sort out in my
own
head
. T
oo many things
had begun to crowd in recently...
Daniel sighed and headed towards the kitchen. I sunk back down into the sofa and took a deep breath, trying to still my mind, but it was like trying to catch sunshine in a cloud. I
closed my eyes and saw a picture of myself, adrift on a
tiny
, broken
raft in
the middle of
a large
stormy
ocean.
***
The doorbell rang.
‘Who’s that?’ Graham demanded. He hated being interrupted when we were having our dinner.
‘I don’t have X-Ray eyes,’ I said flatly. ‘Perhaps
if you opened the door...’
‘I’ll get it,’ sighed Daniel, and stood up from the table.
‘I’m there, don’t worry,’ shouted Ian from the hallway. ‘I’m off out, see you later, I’m out for a few catch-up beers with the boys.’ The door clicked open.
‘Er, Mum, it’s those Jehovah’s Witnesses again! Er, excuse me guys, can I just squeeze past you, I’m on my way out. Great
,
thanks.
Bye!’
Graham
’s forehead creased into an angry frown
. M
y heart quickened.
‘Jehovah’s Witnesses?’ He said. ‘At dinnertime, that’s a bit bloody inconsiderate
.’ He began to
rise from his chair, ready to give them a piece of his mind, but I was quicker.
I
dashed
towards the hallway. Detective Sergeant Blud and PC Andrews were in the doorway.
‘Sorry to bother you again, Mrs. Halston, is your husband here?’
‘Yes, but-’
‘Oh good, mind if we come in?’ The question was rhetorical, as Blud had already stepped into the hallway.
‘What’s all this about, who are you?’ Graham said
, coming out of the dining-room.
Blud flashed his identification card. ‘
I’m
D
etective Sergeant
Blud and
my colleague here is Police Constable
Andrews. And you are Mr.
Graham
Halston, I presume
?
I’m a bit surprised actually, that I haven’t heard from you yet, Mr. Halston. D
id you not get the message to ring me?’ Blud glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh,
that’s my fault,
sorry,
well,
I forgot to...um...I’ve been a bit
...a bit
busy,’ I said quietly.
Blud stared at me for a second then shrugged his wide shoulders, rustling his coat.
‘Ah well,
not to worry,
no harm done
. W
e were in the neighbourhood anyway,
so I
thought mayb
e it was just as easy to pop in -
’
Graham looked confused, angry. ‘Pop in? Does somebody mind telling me what the hell this is all about?’
Blud ignored him and looked at Daniel, who had appeared from the kitchen. ‘
Good evening, there,’ Blud nodded and turned to Graham. ‘One of your sons, I take it?’
‘Er,
yes, this is
Daniel.
Look, what’s – ’
‘Okay, Daniel,
there’s
no need to be alarmed,
son. W
e’re just here to have a
quick chat with your Dad. Shall we go through to the lounge, Mr. Halston
?
’
I followed Graham and the two policemen into the lounge.
‘
So, Mr. Halston, d
o you know
a Mr. John Rosslet?’ Blud said, flipping open a notebook.
‘Er,
who? I mean,
no
. S
hould I
?
Look,
I don’t
know any John Rosslet, can you please just tell me what this is all
about?’