Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1) (28 page)

BOOK: Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1)
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She waited until she was sure
Helen was asleep before she removed the mobile phone from its box and turned it
on. Her heart was pounding as she dialled his number, knowing it was late but
needing to talk to him, to hear his voice, she jumped as the phone on the other
end of the line began to ring, the sound seeming unbearably loud in the
otherwise silent house.

Paul turned over in his sleep
and pulled the covers up over his shoulders, the ringing phone had disturbed
him and he wished someone would answer it. Suddenly he jumped on realising the
sound wasn’t the house phone, it was his new mobile and only one person had the
number.

“Carmen?” He asked feeling
stupid as it had to be her then comforting himself with the knowledge that she
didn’t know he had purchased the phone for the sole intention of talking to
her. He struggled with the covers and managed to sit up as he listened to her
speak, his hopes swelling with every word from her mouth. They talked for
hours, finally getting to say all the things they had yearned too until eventually,
Carmen told him that the battery on her phone was just about to die, he
promised to call her the following day, smiling and happy as he snuggled
beneath the covers again.

When he finally crawled out
of bed the following morning and sauntered down to the kitchen, it was to find
Monica sitting with her parents waiting for him to surface. He greeted all
three adults and then proceeded to make some breakfast while Paula provided him
with a steaming cup of tea.

“Once you have eaten, you
need to get
dressed,
you are coming to the police
station with me.” Monica told him.

“Has something happened?” he
asked.

“Everything is fine, you’re
presence has been requested.”

“This
again?
What’s the point Mum? I’m
not going to tell them anything.” The bright, sunny mood he had woken up with
evaporated with her words.

“You will do as you are told,
it’s only a matter of time before you realise that what happened was wrong and
then you will want some recompense.”

A silent car journey later
and Paul and Monica were shown through to an interview room where they were
left to wait. Monica passed the time rummaging through her sizable handbag
while Paul looked around the dismal grey room, drumming his fingers on the
melamine table in front of him as he observed the chips in the paint and
scrapes along the walls giving the room a general unkempt air. He sat forward,
elbows on the table as two officers entered the room and introduced themselves.

Sitting opposite the boy, the
female officer could clearly see what her colleague who had previously
interviewed him was talking about; he was a work of art to look at with dark
brown, almost black fashionably scruffy hair, olive skin and large almond
shaped, inscrutable brown eyes rimmed with thick black lashes above impressive
cheek bones, a straight nose and full lips. The green t-shirt strained over
broad shoulders, the sleeves clung to the muscled upper arms and the fibres
stretching under the expanse of chest with each breath. His lower arms were
tanned and tapered down to large, work roughened hands with long, elegant
fingers. She couldn’t see his legs but deduced that they were long as she
pulled her chair closer to the table as his feet were resting on the floor,
crossed at the ankle almost on her side of the table. She made eye contact with
him as she finished her evaluation and was surprised to see that he was
appraising her with equal interest, he didn’t look away when her eyes met his
but the lazy grin that twitched the side of his lips and the twinkle in his eye
was unmistakeable and she knew without a doubt that this boy would stick to his
guns, making this little episode nothing more than a waste of everyone’s time,
he exuded confidence and arrogance in equal measure, he knew without a doubt
that if he didn’t give anything away, they didn’t have a case.

Try as they might, they
couldn’t get him to own up to having an underage relationship with his teacher,
the situation not helped in the slightest by the prompting from his mother.
Eventually, Paul smiled, crossed his arms over his chest and leant back in his
chair, his bulk making it creek in protest.

“I’m pretty sure I am correct
by thinking that you have nothing to go on, you can’t bring charges against me
in any way shape or form therefore, if I
were
to get
up and walk out of that door, there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop
me?” He
questioned,
the most he had said all morning.

“That’s right.” The male
officer confirmed.

“Fine.”
He stood, putting his weight on his fingertips as he
leant closer to the officers “I’m sure the taxpayers would appreciate you
wasting their money on this fruitless venture especially as you have failed on
no more than five separate occasions to get me to talk. Did you really think I
would be intimidated by this situation?” He turned to Monica “Are you coming?
I’m done here.”

“No you are not.” Monica
scowled.

“Look Mum, if you want to
stay in this..” he paused, looking around the room “Ahem, delightful room,
that’s up to you, I’d quite like a lift home but I’ll happily catch the bus if
you feel you need to stick the knife in further.” He held the door open for her
and before passing through himself, turned back to the officers and shot them a
dazzling smile.

“Bloody full of
himself
that one.” The male officer commented, shuffling his
notes

“Yeah but
you have to hand it to him, he handled himself very well, mark my words, he’ll
be a force to be reckoned with when he’s older.”

Paul went straight to his
room when Monica dropped him off at his Grandparents house, he had left her no
room or cause for conversation on the way home and Monica knew that if she
didn’t let this situation lie she would lose her son. She resolved to tell him
at the weekend that she was prepared to drop the charges and that she would
very much like it if he were to return home.

He helped his Grandparents
over the weekend to prepare for the meal they had planned for his parents,
setting up the long dining table, extending it and adding the additional leaves
so that the guests would be seated with plenty of elbow room. He attempted to
help Paula in the kitchen but only managed to get in the way; he ran laughing
from the kitchen, his Grandmother brandishing a large wooden spoon at his
retreating back.

After a stint at the gym and
a quick shower on returning home, he settled down on his bed and flicked on the
television, finding nothing of interest to watch, he reached for his phone and
dialled Carmen’s number, smiling broadly when she answered. His smile was short
lived however as he explained the police station fiasco, kicking himself for
mentioning it as Carmen flipped out, screaming down the phone at him, telling
him in no uncertain terms what she thought of his mother.

Although he wasn’t exactly seeing
eye to eye with Monica at that precise moment in time, Paul felt his hackles
rise at Carmen’s insults of the woman who had given him life and he let his
temper have full rein, keeping his voice low, he told her succinctly how he
felt, not giving her room to defend herself and when he had finished, promptly
hung up and turned off his phone, breathing heavily. He lay back on his bed,
his hands in his hair as he replayed what he had said in his mind “Shit,” he
whispered, knowing he now had an awful lot of apologising to do to both women.

It was with a heavy heart
that he set out on his shopping trip to find an anniversary gift for his
parents, well, for Monica; he had already given Tessa some money to buy a
bottle of vintage brandy for Michael, what he wanted for Monica would take
hours of sorting through pawn brokers and second hand shops, he exhausted every
avenue but was pleased with his finds, he was weary and grimy on returning to
his Grandparents house, wrapping the gifts before allowing himself a long soak
in a hot bath.

With his skin tingling
pleasantly from the hot water and wrapped in a towel, he sat on the edge of his
bed and, steeling himself, called Carmen. He relaxed when the first thing she
did was apologise for shouting at him the previous evening and he offered his
apology in return only to become irritated when she berated him for turning off
his phone, his mood turning sour when she once again began to point out
Monica’s failings as a mother.

“Aren’t you going to say
anything?” She asked upon realising that the protestations on the other end of
the line had stopped.

“I don’t think I have
anything to say.” He sighed “I don’t want to argue Carmen but you must know Mum
was only trying to protect me.”

“And in doing so, she ruined
my career; I have been suspended from my job pending an investigation. The
police are in regular attendance here and at the school and now the local press
have
got hold of it, she’s made me look like a
paedophile.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t her
intention, I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“So you should be, I told you
this was a bad idea from the start,” she snapped “You’d better be prepared to
start supporting me as it’s looking highly likely that I’m going to lose my
job.”

“That’s fine, you know I will
support you,” his reply “I want to see you.”

She replied after a short
silence “I’d like to see you too.”

“I’ll see if I can get
someone to drive me up.”

It was her turn to sigh, the
fact that he was too young even to drive bringing home how young he was “You
are such a child” she whispered, she had meant it kindly but Paul took a firm
grasp of the wrong end of the stick and gave it a thorough shake

“I was
man
enough for you.” He spat.

“Paul, you took that the
wrong way, I wasn’t having a dig.”

“How was I supposed to take
that comment?” He growled, he raked his fingers through his hair, jumped up
from his bed and began pacing his room, “I’m going to go before I say something
I shouldn’t.”

“Fine, you do that, you made
your feelings more than clear last night, I hadn’t realised you were such a
Mummy’s boy.”

“Ah, you know what Carmen,
out of the two of us; it’s you who needs to grow up, not me. Call me when you
are in a better state of mind.” Tiring of pacing, he sat once again on his bed,
his head in his hands, admitting that the situation he was in was a little too
much for him to deal with on his own, he needed help.

Only a few short hours later,
his family arrived for the opulent meal provided by his Grandparents. Studiously
ignoring his father, Paul managed to get Monica to one side;

“Happy
anniversary Mum.”
He said,
presenting her with a sizable box “It’s from me and Matt.” He finished; he
would have to tell his brother later what they had bought their Mother.

“It’s heavy,” she took the
box from him, placing it on the kitchen table, she began to break through the
wrapping, opening the box to reveal vast amount of packaging material, delving
into the polystyrene quavers, her fingers connected with smooth cold china.
Freeing the first of many cups and saucers from the box, she gasped as she
recognised the pattern “Paul, where did you find these?”

“I’ve been searching since we
broke them,” he explained as he removed further items from the box “They’re the
same pattern and batch number as the pieces of the tea set you already have so
they should match perfectly.”

“Thank you,” she reached for
him then, hugging him fiercely “You shouldn’t have.”

“I’ll keep looking until you
have a complete set again.” He told her.

“Matthew doesn’t know
anything about this does
he
?” she asked, willing him
not to lie to her.

“No.” He answered “I meant to
tell him but I forgot, don’t say anything to him.”

“I won’t.” She smiled, he had
spoken the truth.

“Mum, can we talk?” he asked,
shuffling his feet.

“Of
course.”

Paul opened his mouth to
speak but before he could make a sound, Jackson called her name asking her to
join them in the living room.

“Can you keep it until
later?” She asked
,
he was deflated as he nodded at her
and followed her out of the kitchen.

“You ok?” Matt asked as he
flopped
onto the sofa next to Paul.

“Yeah,” Paul grinned at his
brother “We have started replacing Mum’s china by the
way,
we got her some bits as an anniversary present.”

“Cool, you are the best
brother a guy could have,” Matt heaved a sigh of relief “So what you been up
too?”

“Work mainly. I got a new
mobile; I’ll give you the number before you leave.”

“So you aren’t coming home
anytime soon?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged
“I love it here but it’s not the same as being at home, I miss my bed and the
sound of you farting the night away.”

Matt laughed “I aim to
please.”

Monica surveyed her family
gathered around the table. Her parents at one end and Michael’s at the other,
her brother, seated opposite her had resisted the urge to bring his current
conquest with him and was therefore seated next to Paul who had Matthew on his
right followed by Michael holding court with Charles and Penelope. Tessa sat
next to her with Kay completing the party on Tessa’s other side.

BOOK: Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1)
13.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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