Three Letters (7 page)

He gave a small, whimsical smile. ‘I do care
about our son, though, and having witnessed how you enjoy hurting him, I’m determined to get him away from here. He’ll be safe enough with his granddad Bob. Oh, and if you so much as show your face there, I’ll inform the authorities how you mercilessly beat the boy for nothing more than telling the truth.’

‘I won’t let you take him! You can bugger off if you want to, but you’re not taking the
boy. He’s staying here with me. He’s nearly nine years old; before you can turn round he’ll be fourteen and off to work. That’s when he’ll be old enough to make up his own mind about where he wants to go, and who with. Till then, I’ll decide what’s best for him. He’s staying here, with me, where he belongs!’

‘Oh, I can see it all now. The truth is, you can hardly wait till he’s off to work and
bringing home a wage packet. Of course, that’s why you’re so desperate to keep him. You see him as taking my place and earning the money to keep you in fags and idleness. You intend him to support you in the manner you’re used to, while turning a blind eye to the men friends you entertain under this roof.’

‘You’re wrong! I want him to stay here with me, because I’m his mother, and this is where
he should be.’

‘Like hell, he should! You don’t give a damn for the boy. You never have. Five years from now, you’ll be too far gone to attract the men, and Casey will take over from me as breadwinner. Well, you can forget it. I’ve no intention of leaving my son here so’s you can ruin his life like you’ve ruined mine.’

Leaving her to reflect on his words, he crossed to the scullery and opened
the door. ‘Are you ready, Casey?’

Casey switched off the taps. ‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘Right, then go upstairs and get what you need. You’re coming with me to stay with Granddad Bob.’

Keeping his gaze to the floor, Casey hurried across the parlour and up the stairs, where he began collecting a few belongings. He wasn’t sorry to be going, as long as he was with his daddy.

Downstairs, Ruth ranted on.
‘I’ll have him back before you know it,’ she warned. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

‘Is that so?’ Tom was also determined. ‘Well then, I’ll make you a promise, shall I? If you try any of your tricks or if you go anywhere near him, I’ll make sure the authorities know what kind of a useless mother you are. They’ll know about the men you entertain, here in our home, with your own son able to hear
what’s going on. And I’ll make sure they’re aware of what happened here today. You’ve never had any real love for that boy, and if I was to leave him here with you, I dread to think what might happen.’

Having filled a canvas bag with his few belongings, Casey emerged from the bedroom. He sat down on the stairs, listening, waiting for the angry voices to subside.

It seemed like an age before
he dared venture to the parlour door, but when he felt his mother’s eyes on him he kept his gaze averted.

‘Are you ready, son?’ Tom placed an encouraging hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Casey looked into his father’s kindly face. ‘Are we taking the guitar?’

Tom smiled down on him. ‘Yes, so you go and fetch it, while I have a quiet word with your mother. Then we’ll be away from here.’

Relieved
and happy that they were going to stay with Granddad Bob for a while, Casey made his way to the front parlour.

Turning to Ruth, who appeared to be in a quieter mood, Tom told her, ‘Oddly enough, I still have feelings for you, but I could never again want you as my wife … not in that way. Not after you’ve shared yourself with other men time and again.’

Ruth made no answer. Instead, while seeming
to listen, she slyly glanced to the door, where Casey was now waiting, the guitar safe in its soft cover, and clutched tightly in his arms.

‘Ruth, d’you hear what I’m saying?’ Tom was slightly unnerved by her suddenly calm manner.

‘I’m listening.’ Her smile crept over him.

‘Once I leave here, I’ll be out of your life for good. I will never again set foot in this house, but it goes without saying
I can’t speak for our son. Whatever he decides in the future is up to him, but he will always have a place in my father’s house.’

He desperately needed to share his close secret with someone; a secret that was playing heavily on his mind, especially now. He felt angry, and guilty and so alone. Sadly Ruth had never been the kind of woman a person might confide in.

Sensing a weakness about him,
Ruth turned on the tears. ‘Please, Tom, don’t leave me destitute. I can’t afford to rent this house on my own. I love you both. I couldn’t bear it if you left.’

‘Sorry but the decision is made. Whatever the cost to me, I intend doing what’s right for Casey.’ Aware that Casey might hear, Tom lowered his voice. ‘The way you went for the boy was shocking. It showed real hatred. I must have been
blind or stupid not to have seen it before.’

Realising he’d seen right through her, she boldly admitted, ‘You’re absolutely right, I do have a powerful hatred for the boy, so much so that I shrink inside whenever he comes near me. What’s more, I feel the same way about you … always have done.’

When he looked away she sidled up to him, her voice taunting. ‘So y’see? I don’t give a bugger whether
you stay or go, but if you think I’ll hand you a divorce so you can opt out of supporting me financially, you’ve another thought coming.’

Tom instinctively drew back. ‘You don’t have a cat in hell’s chance of keeping him.’ Taking her by the arms, he held her tightly. ‘When did you ever show him any tenderness or guidance? Whenever he brought friends home, you couldn’t wait to get rid of them
on some pretext or other. You made them feel uncomfortable, making nasty comments and belittling Casey in front of them, and now he has no friends at all. So, what does that say about you, eh?’

‘You’re twisting things! I was right to get rid of them! Besides, they weren’t real friends! They were cunning little buggers, and they were not welcome in my house.’

‘
Your
house, is it?’

‘Yes!
My
house,
my
son, and
my
decision. Besides, it’s a mother’s place to vet her son’s friends. What I did was for his own good.’

‘So, tell me, Ruth, if he’s your son, and you know what’s best for him, why did you never cuddle him or sit down and talk with him about school or the music he loves? Why do you never ask how he’s doing at his lessons, or praise him when he achieves something he’s proud of … like
the time he played the guitar in assembly. Do you remember, how he came running home all excited, and you just brushed it aside, like it was nothing?’

‘All right! I’ll tell you why I didn’t want to make a fuss. It’s because, unlike you, I don’t want him turning into some kind of softie. Besides, any fool can tap their fingers against a piece o’ wood and make some kind o’ noise. It doesn’t mean
they’re summat special.’

‘How would you know? That day, in front of all those parents, teachers and even classmates, our son poured his emotions into the music and the music touched a cord in everyone. He made me proud, but then I expect that’s something you could never understand.’

His words sent her mind reeling back to when she was younger. He was wrong to tell her she could never understand
Casey’s talent, because she did understand. She had always understood and hated him all the more for it. In spite of her searching for the bad in him, she found only good. He was a normal boy, back-chatting at times and grating on her nerves when he stood up to her. Occasionally, he had proven to be as disobedient and aggravating as any other boy, but for all that, she recognised something special
in him. Something intangible, which awakened the best in everyone, except her. In truth, she envied him.

Casey was everything she was not. He was kind while she was cruel. He needed her but she had never needed him. Unlike her, he had the capability to love, fiercely and with great pride, as in the way he loved Tom and Granddad Bob; while she was incapable of loving anyone. Over the years, she
had watched the boy grow into a fine young person under Tom’s guidance, and every day she was punished because of it. Yet, she had never told, and never would.

Even as a baby, when Casey held up his chubby arms for a cuddle, she would turn away – much as she had turned away from her family, where she had looked in vain for love, and even from Tom, a man of principle. A hard-working man, who had
always provided for her, and who had, from an early age, loved her without question.

Tom and the boy were not of her world. They were too safe, too predictable. Since childhood she had never wanted a safe world.

And for that, she had neither regrets, nor peace. She had hardened her heart, vowing never to let others hurt her, but they had hurt her, and the pain was like a living thing inside
her. It had taught her that love could only ever bring pain.

‘RUTH!’

‘What now?’ Startled out of her reverie, she raged at him, ‘I won’t change my mind. I mean to keep the boy, and there is nothing you or your father can do about it. When the time comes, I’ll make sure he knuckles down, and learns a useful trade.
You
might be running away, but I won’t allow him to go. It won’t be long before
he’ll need to take up his responsibilities. There’ll be no more time wasted on music and such, I’ll make sure of it.’

‘Not if I can help it, you won’t! His granddad thinks as I do.’

‘For pity’s sake, what’s wrong with you? He’s a boy, he should be outside playing football or fighting in the playground, or being trained for summat that might earn him a living, like building or plumbing. Instead
he’s wasting his time holding a piece o’ wood and making noises that no one cares about. He’s useless, and the sooner he gets out of school and into a proper job, the happier I’ll be, and that’s the truth.’

Casey had retreated into the passage to lean forlornly against the far wall. ‘Look at him!’ Ruth screeched. ‘Hugging that damned guitar like it were summat precious. It’s nothing but a piece
o’ wood, that’s all. Useless … like him!’

Deeply hurt, Casey stepped forward. ‘You don’t understand. When I played in assembly, everybody stood up and clapped. Miss Hardwick said it was beautiful, but you never heard me because you weren’t even there. You don’t care about anything I do.’ When the tears began to flow, he wiped his eyes and brought his sorry gaze to the floor.

Unmoved, Ruth rounded
on Tom. ‘Now, see what you’ve done. You’ve got him thinking he’s summat special. He thinks that piece o’ wood is his future, but it’s not and never will be. It won’t earn him a wage, and it won’t make him a man. It’s nothing! D’you hear me?’

Suddenly she rushed across the room and grabbed the guitar out of Casey’s arms. Fighting Tom off as he tried to stop her, she smashed the instrument against
the wall where the cover split open, shooting out splinters of wood and tangled strings.

‘That’s what I think of yer precious guitar.’

When she tried to raise the guitar again, Tom wrestled her onto a chair, his voice trembling with anger. ‘You know how much that guitar meant to Casey. Why would you do such a wicked thing?’

‘Huh! I don’t know why I didn’t smash that thing long ago,’ Ruth sneered.

Tom wrapped an arm about Casey’s shoulders. ‘It’ll be all right, son,’ he assured him. Carefully placing the broken instrument into its cover, he handed it to him, saying. ‘Take it with you, and wait for me at the end of the street.’

‘Yeah, go on!’ As the boy made his way along the passage, his mother’s vicious rantings followed him. ‘Get off to yer granddad Bob. Tell him not to mek you too comfortable,
’cause I’ll be along soon enough to fetch yer back!’

With Casey out of earshot, Tom turned on her. ‘What kind of creature are you?’ He remained outwardly calm, though he would gladly have throttled her there and then. ‘If I had any doubts about taking Casey away from here, you’ve just proved that I’ve made the right decision.’

Without another word, he walked out of the room and along the passage.

Ruth ran after him. ‘Think you’re the man, don’t yer, eh? If you try and take my son, I’ll ’ave the police on yer! You’ve no rights, d’you hear me? You’ve no rights!’

‘I’ve every right! Casey is my son, and I’m responsible for his safety. If you interfere, I warn you, Ruth, you’ll be starting something you might regret.’

‘Really? Well, I think you should know, if you try and fight me, you’ll
be sorry. You can be sure o’ that.’

Tom was not impressed. ‘I know what you’re up to, but it’s not on.’

‘Huh!’ Her manner changed suddenly. With a sly, triumphant smile on her face, she spoke slowly, so the words would cut deep, ‘Casey … is not … your son.’

For what seemed an age, Tom gave no reply. He felt shocked and numbed, unable to comprehend what she had said.

Turning the knife, Ruth
elaborated in a harsh and cruel voice. ‘Truth is, you raised another man’s bastard. After he was born, I used to watch you doting on him, hugging him like he was something precious. You never knew how much I longed to tell you the truth … to take the smile off yer face, but I never did. I’m telling you now, though. He was never yours, and he never will be.’

‘You’re a damned liar!’ Tom was shocked,
then enraged. ‘You’ve stooped to many a dodgy thing in your time, but this is really evil. You’d better take back what you said. Take it back … now!’

‘I’m not lying, Tom. Not this time.’ Delighting in his distress, she pressed home her own version of the truth. ‘I’ve no idea who his father is, but I do know it’s not you, because it happened a short time before you and I lay down together. I tricked
you, and like the gullible fool that you are, you never suspected; not even when I lied about him being born early. He’s an unwanted little bastard … made down a dark alley with some stranger who had more money than he knew what to do with.’

Stricken to the heart, Tom took her by the shoulders. ‘You’re a wicked, destructive woman, and your lies won’t get Casey back.’ He gripped her so tight she
winced with pain. ‘He’s my son. Mine! D’you hear what I’m telling you? Casey is mine and he always will be. Nothing you say or do will ever change that.’