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Authors: Josephine Myles

Junk (33 page)

BOOK: Junk
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Mr. Lehrman gasped. Carroll continued. “That’s right. We need to start seeing some results quick or they’re going to get nasty. You think this is hardcore nagging, you’ve obviously never seen a legal notice to clear. They will come in and do it whether you give them permission or not.”

Mr. Lehrman’s mouth hung open as he looked from one to the other of them. “They couldn’t. It’s my stuff. My house.” Even after his words trailed off, his mouth kept moving.

“Not your house, your sister’s, and if you don’t let them in, she will.”

It wasn’t particularly pleasant, seeing an elderly man cry, but Lewis felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Finally, a genuine emotional reaction rather than the habitual blocking and passive-aggressive silence. He watched the tears roll down Mr. Lehrman’s cheeks for a moment, then stepped forward, arms held out.

“Uh-uh. My turn.” Carroll pushed in front of him and enveloped Mr. L’s bony shoulders in a hug. “There, there. Come on now, it’s not so bad. You might even like it, being able to move around and see the walls again. Maybe you could take up dancing again. Your sister tells me you used to be quite the mover.”

“No one will dance with me now. I’m too old.”

“Utter nonsense. You can still shift some. I’ve seen you leap out of a chair when you think me or Lewis are about to make off with one of your treasures. I’d dance with you.”

“You?” Mr. L looked like he didn’t know whether to believe his ears, but at least it was better than the silent sobbing.

“You clear your dining room, and I’ll dance around it with you. In fact, I’ll treat you to a dance in every room I clear. How’s that for a deal?”

“Just a dance?” The old man’s eyes twinkled.

“Oi! Don’t push your luck, buster. I’m practically married. Just a dance for you, but I could certainly help you get registered with an online dating agency if you want to find a more intimate dance partner.”

Lewis shuddered at the idea, but then again, looking at Mr. Lehrman smiling, he had to concede he wasn’t too bad for his age. Indeed, once you got past his stubbornness, he was almost likeable.

“Come on, then,” Lewis chivvied, seeing Carroll squirming in Mr. L’s clutches. “Better get going on that clearing if you want to dance with my sister. And I’m warning you, I’ll be chaperoning her.”

Mr. L grumbled as he disengaged and led their way back into the house, but Lewis grabbed hold of Carroll’s arm as she tried to pass. “Listen, sis…”

Carroll jutted her chin out. “You going to tell me that was unprofessional behaviour now?”

“No! Not at all. I just wanted to say thanks. For getting through to him. Nothing I’ve been doing seems to have made the slightest bit of difference.”

“That’s because you’ve been sticking to the handbook, bro. Sometimes you’ve just got to wing it and find what’s really going to motivate someone. Sometimes you need to stick with them too. Give them a chance. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I am sticking with him. If he’s keeping on top of the clutter and he still wants me in another few months, I’m his.”

“But you’re not going to offer him any help in the meantime?”

“He needs to do this on his own, Carroll. Bloody hell, six months is nothing, really. In the States, they say you should leave it at least two years after therapy ends. Other people say twenty-five years. Some say never.”

She fixed him with a gaze as blue as his own. “And I think you’re just using that as a justification because you’re scared in case you screw it all up like you did with Carlos. Jasper’s completely different, you know.”

Before Lewis could reply, she was halfway down the hallway.

He did know. And he wasn’t scared. Not really.

Merely terrified out of his wits.

 

 

After finishing up at the Lehrmans’, Lewis decided to walk home. Carroll had offered to give him a lift back, but he knew the detour from Montpelier to Westbury on Trym and then back to Southville would have made her late for Jasper, and Lewis didn’t want to do that to him. The man had enough stress of his own manufacturing already. Besides, it was a mild afternoon with a light breeze and scudding clouds, and it was only a couple of miles.

Lewis climbed the hill using the more picturesque residential streets, the bay-fronted Victorian terraces and leafy gardens reminding him of Jasper’s home. Of course, prices were even higher on this side of the Avon where the sun warmed the south-facing hillsides. Lewis turned back at a spot where the city centre was spread out on view, all mellow limestone, orange tile, red brick, grey concrete and green trees jumbled together. His eyes found the spot on the horizon where Jasper’s road must be. It was impossible from this distance to say which it was, but he imagined he could pick out Jasper’s rooftop. The thought gave him a small measure of comfort, but it wasn’t enough.

How the hell was he meant to survive another five months of this yearning?

Lewis sighed and kept on trudging up the hill. His thoughts kept returning to Jasper, so he attempted to keep them occupied by remembering past clients. They’d all had a breakthrough point like Mr. Lehrman had. Not always as dramatic as his, but there was still that moment when the mental blockage cleared. When they could finally not only see the logic behind letting go of the hoard, but to feel it too. It was the moment when clearing ceased being such a chore and energised them.

Jasper wasn’t there yet, by all accounts. He’d learned some sorting skills and wasn’t acquiring new items, but his progress was slow and deliberate. Was that just the way it had to be with him? Or should Lewis have pushed more? Many clients had made their breakthrough after a nudge from him or Carroll. It would be fascinating to study that. To talk to other counsellors working with hoarders and find out if the same pattern was universal. To help refine the therapeutic guidelines for those working with hoarders.

So what exactly was stopping him?

The thought halted Lewis in his tracks, right in the middle of the pavement.

What, indeed? Lack of money? Time? Neither of those excuses washed. It really didn’t cost anything much to read and phone people up. He had more free time than he knew what to do with, and he’d always loved studying. The only reason he hadn’t carried on with it was because he’d felt he was doing more good immersing himself in the field and learning by first-hand observation. But now he had that experience, what was stopping him using it as the basis of further study? Okay, so if he were to sign up for a part-time PhD, he’d have to look for some funding and might have to knock the amateur dramatics on the head for a while, but there were other ways to study independently. You didn’t have to be locked into a rigid course…

“Excuse me,” a harried voice called from behind him. “Could you let me through?”

“Sorry,” he murmured, flattening himself back against a garden wall to let the elderly woman in the mobility scooter past. She turned into the next driveway, and he continued on up the hill, ideas whirling through his head and assembling themselves into new patterns.

Lewis picked up his pace, suddenly desperate to get home and on the computer.

He had some serious research to be getting on with.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Ready to go through some of this old crafting stuff?” Carroll called from the other side of a pile of boxes.

Jasper peered around cautiously. Carroll had been in a strange mood ever since she arrived, and while she said she was happy with a breakthrough she’d had with another client that morning, she seemed more angry and frustrated than anything else.

Jasper hoped it wasn’t anything he’d done.

“I’m not sure,” he said.

“It was your mum’s, right?” Carroll was holding up a clear plastic bag full of tangles of yarn from the time Mama had taken up tapestry. There clearly wasn’t any point in keeping hold of it, but the thought of letting it go made Jasper’s palms sweat.

“I don’t think I’m ready just yet.”

Carroll’s lips thinned, but then she shook her head and gave a dry chuckle. “Sometimes I just can’t believe my idiot of a brother. How come he’s left you to me when we all know full well you’re never going to open up to a woman?”

What?
Jasper realised his mouth was hanging open. He closed it again. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Are you sure? Because the way it looks to me, you blame your mother for all your troubles, and by extension all women are suspect.”

“I don’t blame Mama!”

“Don’t you? The woman who tricked you into giving up your own life so you could look after her? She wasn’t even that ill to begin with, was she? She just refused to get out of bed.”

Jasper gasped. “How do you know all this?”

“A little thing called case notes? You didn’t think Lewis handed you over without filling me in, did you?”

Stricken, Jasper watched as she threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture.

“Fine!” Carroll declared. “If you can’t work with me, then we’ll figure something out. Although I’ve no idea what, seeing as how my brother’s determined to be the stubbornest bastard to ever walk the face of the earth.”

“I do want to work with you. I’ve been sorting books, haven’t I?”

“It’s not just about that, though.” Carroll ran her hands through her hair and then came and sat on the box next to him. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. It’s not you I’m angry with, it’s Lewis. I can’t fucking well believe he left you to fend for yourself right after you told him about your mum. He’s such a self-righteous twat sometimes.”

Jasper’s cheeks heated. “It wasn’t exactly like that.”

“Like what?”

“I kind of… Well, I insisted we start the six months straight away. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish? It seemed logical.” It had at the time, anyway.

“Logical? Jasper, you have a mess of unresolved emotional issues to deal with, and Lewis is the only one you trust to open up to.”

“I trust you too?” He meant it to come out emphatically, but it didn’t seem to fool Carroll.

“You do? Prove it. Tell me how you feel about your mother.” Carroll’s fierce expression dissolved into a lopsided grin. “Oh God, I can’t believe I just said that. It’s such a bloody cliché.”

Jasper smiled back briefly, settling into pondering her request. How did he feel about Mama right now? “I don’t know… I used to feel guilty most of the time, but I’m not sure if I do anymore.” He stared down at the bag of tapestry yarn sitting between their feet. There was a burning lump inside his chest, which made it tough to push the words out. “I gave her everything I could that she asked for, but she still wanted more. More and more. She… Yes, you’re right, she ruined my life. I don’t think she did it deliberately, though.”

Carroll just stared at him, her eyebrows raised in what looked uncomfortably like a challenge.

“She didn’t! She was lonely. She loved my dad, and once he died, no one else was there for her.”

“You were her child, Jasper. Not her husband. You hadn’t made a vow to stick around in sickness and in health. You have every right to feel angry with her.”

“I’m not angry. I’m just…”
Just what?
Was he going to spend the rest of his life making excuses for Mama’s behaviour? Yes, she’d been sick. Yes, she’d had a hard life, being exiled from her family. But that didn’t give her the right to manipulate him in the way she had. The ember in his chest blazed. “You’re right. Fuck it. You’re right.” He kicked the bag of yarn, scattering them across the floor, then leapt to his feet. “I’m really pigging well pissed off with her.”


Pigging
well?” Carroll sounded like she was suppressing amusement, and that got him even more annoyed.

“Fucking well pissed off. No!” He slammed his hand down on a pile of books, which toppled and crashed to the ground. “I’m not pissed off. I’m really fucking
mad
. Is that better? Is that what you wanted from me? You want me to admit how much I hated her at the end? I still hate her sometimes. Even though I love her. Shit.” Jasper swiped at his eyes and looked down to realise he’d been stomping all over the yarn and it had tangled around his boots. He blinked, and it blurred.

Then Carroll was beside him, and her arm wrapped round his waist made him want to howl at the unfairness of it all. That some were healthy and others sick. Some happy, others bitter.

Some rigidly sticking to a set of ethical guidelines that were making everyone miserable.

And no matter how good you were and how much you forced the complaints and resentment down, you still couldn’t change your lot.

Maybe it was time to let some of those complaints out at last.

“You want me to tell you about Mama? Fine, I’ll tell you. But maybe we should get some coffee first, because this could be a long one.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need me,” Carroll said.

Jasper hugged her tight and started talking.

 

 

Jasper stood at the open warehouse door, watching Carroll pull away in the van. The September evening air had a distinct chill to it, and the twilight was starting earlier and earlier. Normally the return of cold evenings had him shivering in trepidation at the months ahead, living in a freezing-cold house. That wasn’t the case now his radiators were all uncovered and his boiler serviced.

BOOK: Junk
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