Three Letters (9 page)

‘You love it here, don’t you?’ Tom said softly. ‘I can understand why.’ He chided himself for not searching here earlier for the boy.

‘Yes, it’s my favourite place.’ Casey did not look up.

Tom smiled.
‘Mine too.’

Surprised by Tom’s admission, the boy peeped at him out the corner of his eye. ‘When you were little, did you ever run along the bridge wall?’

‘I did, yes.’

‘Were you frightened?’

Tom laughed out loud. ‘I were terrified!’

‘So, why did you do it then?’

‘Because …’

‘Because what?’ Casey kept his gaze averted, his arms wrapped round his knees and his head bent as before, but now
his face was turned sideways as he gazed up. He felt a deeper sense of security now that Tom was there.

‘Well … because …’ Momentarily lost for words, Tom cast his mind back over the years. ‘Because I think I must have taken leave of my senses.’

When Casey laughed at that, Tom laughed with him, and the sound rippled softly through the air, causing some frightened creature to scurry away under
the bridge.

There followed another small silence, before Casey confided his secret. ‘They wanted me to do it, but I never did.’

‘Well, thank God for that!’ Tom shivered inwardly at the way these children regularly risked life and limb, running along a six-inch-wide wall some twenty feet above the water. ‘So, who was it that wanted you to do it?’

‘School pals.’

‘Who were they?’

‘There were
two Brindle brothers, and another boy who lives on King Street.’

‘Oh, the Brindles … big family. Yes, I know them.’

‘Well, the Brindle brothers had a race in bare feet. One of them ran on the far wall, and the other ran along the opposite wall. I had to count from one to ten, and see who got to the other side first.’

‘So, who won?’

‘Nobody. They got to the other side at the same time. On a
count of eight.’

‘A draw, eh? Well, I think that was OK, don’t you? At least it stopped them from arguing.’

‘No, because they still argued. They said I must have counted wrong, but they were so fast, it was frightening. They ran like the wind … slipping and sliding all over the place, they were. I thought they might fall into the water, but it didn’t even bother ’em! They kept their balance,
and made it to the other side.’ When he looked up at Tom, the light from the lamp caught the excitement in his eyes. ‘You should have seen them go, Dad!’

‘I can imagine.’ The Brindle family was boisterous, with the boys, in particular, always up to something.

‘They made it look so exciting, I really wanted to try.’

‘You never did, though, did you?’

Casey gave a huge sigh. ‘No, but sometimes
I wish I had.’

‘So, what stopped you?’

‘I tried once, but my foot slipped and I could hardly keep my balance, so I chickened out.’

‘That was very brave.’

The boy gasped. ‘How could it be brave, when I chickened out?’

‘Because sometimes it’s better to admit that it’s too dangerous and stop, instead of going on when your instincts warn you not to.’

‘Honestly?’

‘Yes, really. It takes a wise
man to admit when he’s made a wrong decision.’

When Casey suddenly leaned his head on his father’s broad shoulder, it was a tender, deeply bonding moment in which each relived the awful situation that had brought him here.

Eventually the child asked hesitantly, ‘She hates me, doesn’t she?’

‘Are we talking about your mam?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see.’ Tom carefully considered his next words, because whatever
he said, he could not deny that Ruth had caused a great deal of pain and confusion especially with her cruel revelation to himself.

Casey’s next words only proved the damage Ruth had done. ‘I don’t want to stay with her. I want to be with you and Granddad.’

‘That’s fine, then, because that’s where we’re going.’

Another awkward moment of silence before Casey needed to know, ‘Are you my daddy?
Are you
really
my daddy?’

Choking back the rush of emotion, Tom turned the boy round to face him. ‘I want you to listen to me, son. I want you to hear my every word and never forget it. Can you do that for me?’

When Casey nodded, Tom held him tight before telling him softly, ‘In every way that matters, I truly am your daddy. Your name is Casey Denton, and you are the son of Thomas Denton … that’s
me. I was there when you were born, and I was the first one to hold you, after the nurse. Then I placed you tenderly into your mammy’s arms, and the two of us loved you so much, we never wanted to let you go. So, you see, it’s always been the three of us.’

‘So, when I was born she held me. That means she must love me, eh?’

Tom assured him that it was so.

Casey was unsettled, however, his mind
questioning everything that Tom said. ‘But if she loved me when I was born, why doesn’t she love me now?’

It was a difficult question for Tom. On the day when Casey was born, Ruth had held him for less than a minute, her manner cold and hard as she returned the baby to him. ‘I don’t want it! Take it back.’ The vehemence in her voice had shaken him to the core.

Unconcerned, the nurse had taken
the baby from him and placed him tenderly into the prepared cot.

Afterwards, when he was leaving, the nurse had urged Tom not to be upset by his wife’s words. ‘I promise you, your wife is not the first to reject her newborn. She’s had a very long, painful labour and an extremely difficult birth. Rejecting the baby in the first flush is not an unusual reaction. She’ll come round. They always do.’

After a while, Ruth appeared to have accepted the boy, and no more was said.

Through Casey’s formative years, however, there were occasions when Ruth had shown hostility towards her son. Tom had chosen to dismiss it, but tonight, when she claimed to hate the boy, the awful truth was driven home to him. Ruth really did harbour a sense of hatred towards her son.

‘I don’t think she loves me at
all.’ Casey’s voice startled Tom out of his thoughts. ‘Why doesn’t she love me?’

Taking that small face between the palms of his hands, Tom gently wiped away the tears. ‘In all honesty, I don’t know what to tell you, Casey, except that I’m sure she does have feelings for you. The thing is, do any of us know what love really means? Y’see, son, it can mean different things to different people.’
He felt totally out of his depth; wanting to comfort the boy, yet not wanting to lie to him. ‘As for myself, I believe that when you love someone, you have a deep urge to protect them. You want them always to be happy, and never to get hurt, and you’ll do anything to make them safe. That’s what I personally believe love means.’

He paused to gather his thoughts, before going on. ‘But y’see, Casey,
not everyone thinks of it in the same way. Someone else might think that love means moulding a person so that he or she can learn to protect themselves and be safe from harm. They want their loved ones to be strong enough to reach their potential in life. They believe that being hard and demanding to their loved ones is the right way to be, even though it could make them appear cruel.’

‘But she
is
cruel. She never cuddles me. She likes to hurt me, and make me cry.’

Tom was deeply saddened by the child’s words. ‘The thing is, Casey, people like your mother don’t know any other way. They think that cuddling and being soft is wrong, and that their way is best.’

For what seemed an age, Casey remained silent. Then, looking Tom in the eye, he told him in a clear voice, ‘I don’t like her,
and I don’t like that kind of love, and I don’t want her to be my mam any more.’

‘That’s your choice, son, and I respect that. You have every right to speak your mind. But you must never hate, because hatred is a terrible, destructive thing. It’s like I was saying, we’re all different, and we all deal differently with particular situations. I agree … some people’s kind of love is complicated.
It isn’t for you and it isn’t for me either, but people can’t help the way they are, and though we might not care for their kind of love, we have to accept it. That’s just the way it is.’

‘So …’ in his young mind, Casey tried to make sense of it all, ‘… you’re telling me that my mam really
does
love me, only in a different way?’

‘Well, yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.’

‘So, why did you
take me away from her? Why did you say you never want me to live with her again?’

Realising that Casey had heard more than he’d first thought, Tom gave him a simple explanation that he hoped would finish the conversation right there. ‘Well, the way I see it is this. You said yourself that you didn’t like her kind of love.’

‘I don’t!’

‘OK. So, if you stayed with her, you would be unhappy, is
that right?’

‘Yes!’

‘And you might refuse to accept her kind of love and even fight against it, because you think she’s cruel and unkind. So, there might be arguments and fights and she would get angry and hit out. And the whole situation would escalate into a war between you. Am I right?’

‘Yes. I don’t want to live with her, because she’s too cruel. She tells lies, and she hit me with her
fists, and she smashed up the guitar.’ Scrambling to his feet, he began to cry. ‘I don’t want her to love me any more. I’m glad you took me away because I don’t want her. I only want you and Granddad Bob.’

‘And that’s your final decision, is it?’ Tom was satisfied that his attempted interpretation of Ruth’s ‘love’ for Casey had somehow helped; making him realise that, his mother had proved herself
to be more than capable of making his life a misery, and that it was all right for him to leave.

It was a huge source of comfort to Tom that his boy would be out of harm’s reach, and safely settled with his granddad.

‘Come on then, son.’ Securing the guitar over Casey’s shoulder, he swung him into his arms. ‘We’d best go and tell Granddad Bob.’

‘Will you tell him how Mam smashed up your guitar?’

‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll see that for himself.’

‘He won’t be pleased.’

‘You’re right. He won’t.’

‘What else will you tell him?’ Casey remembered the man who he heard in his mother’s bedroom, and the others who had been there before him.

Suspecting the reasoning behind this question, Tom feigned a chuckle. ‘I’ll tell him he’s got two smelly lodgers from the Blakewater, and that we both need a hot
bath.’

‘And that we’re cold and hungry, eh?’ Casey was excited.

‘OK, that too.’

‘Yeah!’ Casey was famished. ‘If Granddad’s made a meat and potato pie, there might be some left over.’

With that in mind, they headed for the nearest bus stop, where they sat on the wooden bench to wait.

When, some ten minutes later, the bus arrived, the two of them climbed aboard and seated themselves on the
seat furthest from the doors. ‘We’ll be far enough away from the draught here,’ Tom decided.

Tom bought two single tickets to Preston New Road. From there, they would walk down to Addison Street, where he was born and grew up.

Realising how much was at stake following his decision, he was deeply apprehensive. So many things to think about. So much responsibility. Of late, he had been called
upon to take the most important decisions of his life. Heart breaking decisions that would affect those he loved. He had never wished to be in this situation, but now that he was, he had to face it with hard determination, or be lost.

There was too much to think about, too much that he did not understand. He was forced to act, and he did so after long deliberation, and with a sad heart. There
was much regret and, more importantly, too much left unsaid.

‘Daddy!’

Casey’s raised voice startled him. ‘Ssh! Don’t be so loud, Casey. There are other people on this bus.’

‘I’m sorry, Dad, but I need to ask something.’

‘All right, I’m listening. What is it you want to say?’

‘I just wanted to know … if you were sad?’ The memory of that awful row between his parents had really unsettled him.

Smiling assuredly, Tom answered, ‘Well, I might have been just a little bit sad, but I’m happy enough now. What about you?’

‘I’m really happy now, ’cause I’ll be with you and Granddad.’ Easier of heart, the boy resumed looking through the window; and while he counted the streetlamps as they flashed by, Tom turned his mind to other, burning issues.

His thoughts were torn between his own dear
father, and this darling boy whom he loved with a passion. They were his responsibility, and he could not help but be afraid for them.

Ruth was a born survivor. With tooth and nail, she would always find a way. Surprisingly, even though she had caused him anguish over the years, Tom was still able to think of her in a kindly way.

A long time ago he had stopped trying to fathom her sudden bouts
of wicked temper and the spiteful manner in which she flew at the boy for any reason. Yet though her behaviour maddened him at times, he could find no lasting hatred in his heart towards her.

Through the years, his love for her had been tested many times, but he could not deny the affection he felt towards her. Yes, she was a cheat, and yes, she could be cruel and violent at times. But even though
the boy might have come from another man’s seed – though Tom hoped that was not the case – Ruth had still given him the best gift any woman could give her man. She had offered him a son to love and raise, and he had come to love the boy, heart and soul.

Soon, though, young Casey would be sorely tested, and right now Tom prayed he had provided him with the right tools to deal with life. Because
all too soon, it would be time for him to leave.

When Tom looked up, Casey smiled at him, a trusting, innocent smile.

Tom returned the smile, but behind it lay a great reservoir of loneliness, and a forlorn hope that he might be forgiven for what he soon must do.

F
OR A MAN
in his mid-sixties, Bob Denton was both strong and able, though, as was to be expected, he suffered the aches and pains of increasing age.

A contented man, he considered himself to be fortunate in having married the girl he loved and fathered a wonderful son. He would have liked more children, but Tom was destined to be the only one. The joy he brought was immeasurable
and he had been a huge comfort to his father when, some nine years ago, Tom’s mother had died of TB.