I didn’t even see how Adam was feeling until it was too late. Oh no, I had to keep pushing him, going on at him about school and encouraging his belief that Robbie was some kind of threat. I let Adam down in a big way.
Instead of reassuring him, I made everything worse for him, until he couldn’t take anymore and then he was gone too.
Adam left on a Tuesday, about a month after Rosie moved out. Although Max and the girls had visited her the weekend before, Adam had refused to have any contact with his mother since she’d moved out.
I got home around four-thirty in the afternoon on the day he ran away. I’d left work early, yet again, much to my colleagues’ bemusement. I wanted to go straight to the den and be alone for a while. Sam shouted hello, as I passed the kitchen doorway, and asked if I’d remembered to get the shopping. She’d given me a list at breakfast time. I’d forgotten.
“Dad, for heaven’s sake – you only had to remember that one thing! I can’t do everything. Right, give me your car keys and I’ll go to Tesco. Otherwise we won’t be having any dinner. I was sorting through a pile of washing – can you finish that off? Max is out walking Toby, but he needs to get on with his homework when he gets back. He’ll need reminding to get on with it.”
I half smiled. Sam looked and sounded so like Rosie.
“I don’t know what you’re smiling at,” Sam continued. “Come on, Dad, you need to get a grip. I’m trying to do a good job for Mum. Ruby and I gave the house a really good going over today, but there’s more to keeping this all going than
hoovering
and dusting, you know. I don’t know how Mum did it all.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not coping very well, am I? I was only smiling because you reminded me of your mum. You’re doing a great job, Sam. It’s me that’s hopeless.”
“Och, Dad – you’re not hopeless. You just need to think about more than the hospital. Mum’s spoiled you – she’s spoiled all of us. Maybe if we’d all helped more she wouldn’t have needed to leave.” Sam looked like she might cry.
“Come here,” I said and gave her a hug.
“I miss her, Dad.”
“I know – we all do. I’ll be calling her in a couple of days. I’ll tell her what a good job you’re doing and that we all miss her and need her to come home soon.” I kissed the top of her head.
After Sam left to get the shopping, I set about tackling the mound of laundry. As I stared at the dials on the front of the washing machine, trying to figure them out, I decided open heart surgery was less daunting.
The phone rang.
It was a teacher from Jenny and Adam’s school, a Mrs Wentworth. She asked to speak to Rosie. I told her that wasn’t possible and said who I was. I took the phone through to the living room.
“Oh, hello, Mr McAllister, we haven’t met but I know Mrs McAllister of course. She’s very supportive of everything we do to help Adam. He’s a great lad. I’ve been his form teacher all through high school, as you probably know, and I was really pleased to become his guidance tutor at the beginning of fifth year.”
“Mrs Wentworth – yes – hallo,” I said, bluffing that I did indeed know who she was. I’d always left it to Rosie to deal with school matters. “Is there a problem with Adam?”
“Well, I was hoping you could tell me. He hasn’t been himself for the last couple of weeks. He’s seemed quite depressed actually. I know he was very stressed about the exams, but I’d hoped that once they were over he’d be back to normal. It’s probably teenage emotions – and he is such a sensitive boy – but I was wondering if there was more to it and if I could help in anyway. It’s not like him to miss school and Mrs McAllister always lets us know immediately if any of your children are ill, so I thought I would phone to-”
“Missed school?” I cut in. “Adam has missed school - when exactly?”
“The last two days – didn’t you know?”
“No, I didn’t. What’s he playing at? I’ll get to the bottom of this, Mrs Wentworth, don’t worry.” She could probably hear the anger in my voice. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, without him skipping school.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Mr McAllister. In my experience when one of our pupils takes time off like this, it’s often a cry for help. I suspect Adam’s feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment. Forgive me, but is everything all right at home?”
“Yes,
it’s
fine, everything’s fine.” I didn’t feel able to tell her the truth. “I’ll speak to Adam. Thanks for your concern.” I hung up.
I stayed where I was, at the window, staring out to sea. What was going on with Adam? He was moody, yes, but depressed enough to miss school?
Adam had always been hard work. Rosie said he wasn’t deliberately challenging, it was just he sometimes found it difficult to interact or to understand the way other people did things.
To be honest I didn’t really know what to make of him. He had dyslexia and mild autism, according to the experts. But he was at a good school with lots of opportunities. Why could he not just apply himself and make the best of it?
We’d picked the school as much for its reputation for being very good with children with dyslexia, as for its reputation for general excellence.
Since
Rosie’d
been away, I’d not really seen much of him. We’d had a huge argument the weekend before, when he’d arrived back from his shift at the karting centre. I had a go at him about the amount of time he spent there and suggested he should spend more time studying.
He erupted. He said he wanted to leave school, so what was the point in studying. He said he’d failed all his
highers
anyway and would probably be kicked out of school after the results came out.
I could have handled it better. Rosie would’ve calmed him, talked it all through. But not me, I lost it and shouted back. I said that if he’d failed his exams, he’d be redoing them next year and there would be no weekend job at the karting place or anywhere else. I went on about the importance of university and about all the opportunities he’d been given. On and on I went. We were standing in the kitchen and, as we squared up to each other, I remember thinking that he’d soon be as tall as me.
When he couldn’t take any more of my ranting he shouted, “Fuck off, Dad. Just fuck off!” He sank down on one of the chairs and put his head in his hands. He was crying. His voice was hoarse, the way that newly broken voices sound when stressed. “I wish Mum was here. I wish bloody Robbie didn’t exist and you hadn’t upset her with your secret. Robbie’s probably really clever and going to university. You can be proud of him instead of me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Adam,” I replied. Robbie’s no threat to you. I don’t want anything to do with him. Especially after what’s happened with your Mum. It’s you I want to be proud of. You just need to put in a bit more effort.”
Adam stood up, pushing back the chair with such force that it fell over. “What’s the use?” he said, wiping his face with his sleeve as he walked out of the room.
I hadn’t seen much of him after that. He left the house on the Monday morning with Jenny and returned late afternoon. He ate dinner with the rest of us and then disappeared to his room. He didn’t speak to me and, I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t make any effort to speak to him either.
Now it seemed that for the last two days he’d been somewhere other than school. I made up my mind to tackle him after dinner that night.
But I didn’t get the chance. Adam didn’t come home. His phone went to voice mail when I tried calling him. As we cleared up after dinner, I mentioned Adam’s absence to Jenny. Max was sweeping the floor and chatting to Sam, who was grappling with the laundry that I’d abandoned earlier. I tried to keep my tone casual when I asked if he’d been on the bus to school that morning. Jenny confirmed he had. I asked if she’d seen him during the day or on the bus home. She hadn’t, but she said she rarely saw much of him, especially since their timetables had changed after the exams and they were no longer doing the same subjects. I asked if she knew whether he was working that evening.
“Why all the questions, Dad?
I know we’re twins, but we have separate lives. I don’t know if he’s working, but he doesn’t usually on a school night. Are you saying you don’t know where Ad is?”
“No – well that is – yes – I don’t know. I’m
sorry,
I didn’t mean to bombard you with questions. The truth is – well - he hasn’t been at school for the last two days. Mrs Wentworth phoned. She said he’s been depressed lately and was concerned about his absence. And now he hasn’t come home.”
I was aware Sam and Max had stopped what they were doing and were looking at me.
“Adam’s been dogging school?” Max was incredulous.
“Adam! I didn’t think he had it in him to break the rules!” Sam sounded admiring.
“Sam,” I said, “it’s not something to be proud of. And where’s he been instead of school? Where is he now?”
“Have you tried his phone?” Jenny asked
“Yes, but it goes straight to voicemail. I’ve left messages.”
“He’ll be at a friend’s house,” said Jenny. He’ll turn up. He’s probably in the huff about something. I’ll text him.”
“Have you two been arguing again?” Sam asked. “You have, haven’t you? Can you not ease up on him a bit, Dad?”
I felt well and truly put in my place.
I tried to justify my actions. “He was going on about failing his exams and wanting to leave school. I just don’t want him throwing his future away. If I ease up on him, as you put it, he could end up working at that bloody karting centre for the rest of his life.” I put my hand up to stop Max speaking. I knew by his face that he was going to comment on me swearing.
“Would that be so awful?” Jenny spoke to me more gently than her sister had. “He loves cars and engines and all that stuff. He loves tinkering about with the broken down karts – he fixes them too. He got Mum’s car started a few weeks ago when it was playing up. He’s good at all that mechanical stuff.”
“Well, that’s a debate for later,” I said. “The question for now
is,
where is he?”
“Right,” said Sam, “You call the karting centre, Dad, see if he’s there. Jenny and I’ll call some of his mates. He’ll probably turn up while we’re doing it.”
But he didn’t turn up. None of the people we contacted had seen him. I had a bad feeling. But that night I tried not to show it, both for the sake of Max and the girls, and because I didn’t want to admit to myself that I may have driven my son away.
I was pondering what to do next when Jenny’s phone beeped.
“Oh,” she said. “It’s a text from Ad…”
I snatched the phone from her hand feeling a huge surge of relief. The message said,
IM OK – IN SAFE PLACE –
TAKING TIME 2 THINK –
DUNNO WEN I B BACK –
PLS ASK MAX TO WATCH MY FISH
I decided it was time to go and see Andy.
Chapter Seventeen
Andy opened the door to me wearing an apron. He was his usual warm and welcoming self. He told me to follow him through to his kitchen as he was in the middle of baking.
Andy was my closest friend, probably my only friend, if I’m honest. My life didn’t have room in it for maintaining friendships. We met through an Edinburgh running club many years before, and we got to know each other in the pub after meets and training. Neither of us was really a club runner and we both found our fellow members to be rather serious and earnest, or as Andy described them, wankers. We left the club but continued running together. Lately the running had become jogging.
It was after his divorce that Andy went into community policing. He got custody of his three daughters, and his career in the CID in Edinburgh wasn’t really compatible with being a single parent. I’d never really understood why he took it all on himself and didn’t hand it over to his mother and sister. But now, as I watched him assembling ingredients for making bread in some contraption on the kitchen worktop, I looked at him with new respect. Only now did I realise what a difficult road he’d been on for the last decade. I envied him his easy relationship with his children, but I knew that it hadn’t just happened.