My first full work day, in what felt like a very long time, seemed to drag unbearably. I had meeting after important meeting and, to be honest, I couldn’t actually segregate one discussion from the next as I entered my sixth of the day. My mind raced with thoughts of my impending hospital visit in a couple of hours time and I couldn’t focus on a single thing that Mark, my solicitor, was saying. Oh well, Ryan was my acting assistant for this particular one so, although my entire empire could have depended on it for all I knew, I left him to do the talking, adding the odd nod or grunt of approval from time to time. My iPhone vibrated against my outer thigh - two buzzes, I noticed, and my heart skipped. Two buzzes meant a text, and who would be texting me besides Emily? I discreetly slipped it from my trouser pocket and held it under the table as I clicked the screen.
‘Hope you’re having a good day Mr Scott. If I don’t speak to you before then I hope this evening goes well with your mum, I’m still happy to come if you need me. I love you! Emily. Ps, missing you like crazy! X’
It wasn’t until I heard Ryan’s most unsubtle cough beside me that I realised I was grinning at my phone like an idiot. Of course, everyone else around the table couldn’t see my phone, could they, so I assumed it would appear to them that I was actually grinning like an idiot at my own penis.
Great!
I quickly straightened my face. “Yes, good point gentlemen.” I nodded, trying to make it look as if I was in fact smiling at the content of the conversation. The same conversation that I had not listened to a single word of for the past five minutes. Seriously, I would be broke and homeless before long if I carried on allowing myself to be so distracted by Emily. She was infectious, I couldn’t help it.
“Are you feeling okay, Mr Scott? You don’t seem to be quite with us,” Mark asked, crinkling his heavy, greyed brows as he studied me.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a headache, that’s all,” I lied, struggling to keep the grin off my face.
As soon as the attention in the room turned back to Ryan, I pressed reply.
‘I wouldn’t describe my day as a pleasurable one! Hoping yours is better! I am currently in my 6th meeting and have just made a fool out of myself! Will call you before I leave work and I meant what I said, I’m going alone. Can’t wait to be home with you. I love you. Julian x.’
I coughed - far too deliberately - to disguise the buzz that followed a minute later and the entire table of people looked up at me expectantly. And all I could manage was a tight lipped smile. Seriously, these people must have been thinking I was retarded.
‘I can’t imagine you ever being capable of making a fool of yourself x’
‘They think I am smiling at my penis, thanks to your text Miss Braxton. And quite possibly believe that I’m retarded!’
I pressed send, realising my wide grin once more and desperately trying to contain it as Ryan kicked my shin under the table. I reached for my glass of water and, feeling the buzz against my thigh, quickly scraped the glass against the table - as opposed to simply picking it up - in an attempt to mask the vibrations that would reveal my ignorance, without drawing too much attention to myself. That clearly didn’t work as the sound echoed loudly around the quiet room almost painfully and every pair of eyes snapped up to identify the offending screech.
“Sorry.” I shrugged before raising the glass to my lips and taking a large mouthful whilst peering down at my phone screen.
‘Well, I don’t blame you, who wouldn’t want to smile at your penis, it’s a nice penis! X’
The water, that I had been unable to swallow with my head down in such a position, left my mouth in a powerful burst, spraying the entire table in front of me and the paperwork that covered it.
“Julian! What the hell?” Ryan screeched as he jumped out of his seat to avoid getting sprayed.
“I’m so sorry, gentlemen,” I choked. “It seems I am not feeling well at all. Ryan, if you could please continue without me,” I instructed, sliding my phone into my pocket as I stood. “Please excuse me.” I strolled casually out of the room, biting my bottom lip to prevent the grin that was threatening my lips as I noticed Ryan’s exasperated expression.
‘You and your mouth, Miss Braxton. I have successfully covered my solicitor in water and yes, the water came from my mouth whilst reading your last text.’
‘Oh my God! You didn’t?’
‘Oh my God I did! Have excused myself from the meeting, good job as I wasn’t listening anyway, you are very distracting. And thank you for the compliment on my penis! I may let you admire it later.’
Chuckling quietly to myself, I pressed send before calling her as I said I would.
The drive to the hospital, although I preferred to call it the institution, took just under an hour. My fingers drummed nervously against the steering wheel as I pulled to a stop in the car park and studied the building in front of me. It didn’t look like a hospital, or an institution. At least I didn’t think it did but I can’t say I’ve visited many in my lifetime. The building looked much smaller than I remembered it, and almost welcoming. It looked no different to a large stately home, in fact.
I took a deep steadying breath before walking into the reception and greeting the elderly woman at the desk. Her hair was a thin layer of tight grey curls and her face clearly hadn’t aged well as her deep wrinkles covered every inch of her yellowy skin.
“Hello, I’m here to see Mrs Scott,” I stated, trying to mask the crack in my voice.
“And, you are?”
“Julian Scott, her son.”
The woman’s eyes widened momentarily before she began frantically searching her desk with her fumbling weathered hands, for what I had no idea. “Ah, there they are,” she thrilled, grasping a large bunch of keys and rocking them back into her palm. “Right this way please, sir.”
With a deep shaky breath, I followed her through a large metal door, above which hung the lone blue sign that identified it as the ‘Secure ward’.
Jesus Christ, my mother looked terrible. I followed the nurse into the small cosy room that looked more like a bedroom than a secure cell and my heart sank as she looked up at me through heavy, saddened eyes. Her once auburn hair was now heavily masked by thick, wiry grey strands that tangled together in knots around her frail looking shoulders. Her hazel eyes looked hollow and were surrounded by deep lines and even deeper dark bags and her lips had definitely thinned considerably. My mother was who I had inherited my full plump lips from but you wouldn’t tell that by looking at them now as they wrinkled loosely into a seemingly permanent grimace.
I sat down on the flowery armchair that stood next to the bed where she was nervously perched. “Hello, Mother.” My voice was barely more than a whisper as I fought back against the lump that had formed in my throat. I had hated my mother for all these years, but seeing her now, so lifeless, so completely empty, kind of made me feel sorry for her. She brought this on herself, I told myself, but I wasn’t sure I believed that anymore as I studied her gaunt appearance. Yes, she chose to put up with my father’s abuse, she must have known it would end up destroying us all one day, but I suppose she could never have predicted the severely violent attack that came out of the blue and probably ended up landing her here. All she had actually done was let my father’s friend into the house and made him feel welcome whilst awaiting his return home, but she could never do anything right, could she. And that one kind act was certainly the biggest mistake of her life.
“What made you come?” my mother whispered, her voice trembling as she picked at her fingernail.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” I lied. I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth could I? ‘Well actually, we were afraid you’d tell Dad about Natalie so I’ve come to pretend to love you and pretend to care to keep you sweet’. No, I wouldn’t imagine that would have gone down too well. “So, how are you?” What a stupid fucking question to ask her. It was clear to anybody that she was very far from okay, she looked awful. And I mean awful.
“I’m okay; they tell me as long as I take my meds I’ll be fine.”
“You mean you don’t always take them?” I asked, emphasising the
always
dramatically.
“Sometimes I don’t feel like it. Isabella tells me you’re doing very well in business.”
“I am, yes. What’s it like here? Are they treating you well?”
I had no idea where my sudden concern for this woman was coming from, but I couldn’t seem to suppress it. She just looked so miserable, so vacant and I couldn’t help myself from envisioning her somewhere else, somewhere private where she would have much more interaction rather than being locked in a cell on her own for the rest of her sorry existence. Even as I had entered to visit my
own
mother the door had been locked behind me, and now two care workers stood against the wall, pretending not to listen to our awkward conversation. Why was I even remotely rattled by any of this? Why should I care about her happiness after what she did to me, to us? I shouldn’t, I knew that much, but looking into the eyes of someone who was so clearly defeated - that someone being my own mother - absolutely crushed me. And that was something I hadn’t prepared myself for.
“What do you think it’s like, Julian? I’m being watched twenty-four hours a day and don’t see another soul without the sodding guards by my side. And that Jim, well he’s a wanker, should be shot if you ask me.”
“Who’s Jim?” To my surprise, my stomach knotted as I awaited her answer. Was someone hurting her?
She looked at me thoughtfully, her narrow brows lowering into a frown. “Jim who?” she replied, shaking her head slowly as she shrugged her shoulders. Oh, never mind.
“Why do you need the sodding guards?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked that question as soon as the words left my mouth, but it was too late now.
“Why do you think? Look at what I did to you, my own son.” Her eyes lowered to her lap. “I’m so sorry, my beautiful boy, I never meant to hurt you.”
Hurt me?
I’m lucky she didn’t fucking kill me for Christ’s sake. I struggled to take her apology seriously; I couldn’t bring myself to believe that she was sorry, even when she started sobbing quietly.
“Then why did you?” I whispered, my voice shaking - with what exactly I wasn’t sure. Was it fear, or was it sadness? I couldn’t tell.
“I don’t know. I barely remember myself back then, Julian, but the image of your frightened eyes haunts me every single day. Please tell me you’ll forgive me, Julian, please.”
Her frail hand reached forward and grasped pleadingly at my knee and I flinched. Her hand shot back to her lap in an instant.
“Natalie said you wanted to apologise. You’ve done that now, so I’ll be off,” I stated bluntly as I stood, brushing a hand down the length of my thigh as if this was somehow going to erase her touch. I couldn’t bear it. All those years of hating her, and honestly not bothering whether she was dead or alive somehow seemed to be washing away from me, and that bothered me a lot. I wouldn’t let my barriers down, I wouldn’t let her in. I couldn’t, I knew all too well how much power she had to hurt me.
I looked down at my mother as her shoulders shook with each silent sob and felt a stab of guilt. Could I really just walk out? I was sure she was bound to kill herself if I did. But I had done my bit, I had visited, and if this time she did succeed, I would never have to visit again.
“Please don’t leave me here.” Her sobs grew louder as I neared the door where the two nurses still stood, staring straight ahead as if unaware of any commotion. My stomach twisted as her words sank in. ‘Please don’t leave me here’. Why the
here,
what was wrong with
here
? I turned back to her and, for the first time, saw the deep purple marks that wrapped heavily around her sagging neck. Her suicide attempt, I concluded. Looks like she was almost successful this time. Almost. I had to get out. My mother’s misery was affecting me more than I would ever have thought possible. I couldn’t open myself up for that level of pain ever again. I couldn’t go through that again. And I was sure it would only be a matter of time before she hurt me again.
“Goodbye, Mum.”
A nurse began to fumble with a set of keys on his waistband just as my mother let out a deafening high pitched shriek. “Julian, wait!” she wailed. “I wanted you to come so I could apologise, but I also need to warn you.”
I paused and held my hand up to the nurse, instructing her to stop with the keys, but held my eyes on the door. I couldn’t look back to my mother. I wouldn’t be able to walk out of that door and never look back if I so much as glanced at her right now. From the sound of the terror in her voice, I knew exactly what I would see in her eyes. If I didn’t see it, I was confident I could ignore it. But, I wasn’t a complete bastard; I wouldn’t be able to turn away if I witnessed that pain.
“Warn me about what?”
“Please, sit down, Son, and I’ll tell you.”
“Warn me about what?” I roared, my no doubt angry glare still fixed firmly on the door handle.
“Your father!”
I felt every muscle in my body clench painfully and I already knew what she was about to say. “What about him?” My strained voice was barely audible as I turned to her and saw the horror behind her tired eyes. Exactly what I hadn’t wanted to see.
“He’s out,” she replied in a strangled whisper.
Fuck! I knew this news would be coming soon but...just fuck! I cautiously sat back down, running my trembling fingers through my hair. “How do you know?”
“Why do you think I did this?” she screeched, grasping at the collar of her blouse and yanking it lower to reveal her bruising.
“Natalie said it was my fault.”
“No! If it was your fault don’t you think I would have done it twelve years ago? He knows I’m here, Julian.”
“How?”
How could he possibly know she was here? She was supposed be safe here, her being here should have been absolutely confidential, so how could he know? Was that what she had meant when she begged me not to leave her
here
?
“He phoned. Told me he knows where I am and he’ll do whatever it takes to find Isabella.”