Discovering Dalton (Manchester Menage Collection #2) (21 page)

“And then? When they’re all done with and everything on your list is ticked off, what then?”

“I don’t know.” Liam tugged him closer. “I know what I want, but I don’t know how to achieve it. I think we should just go with the flow and enjoy the ride.”

“I'm up for that, just make sure it’s a slow one with not too many bends. I need time to adjust. Not just to you, but to everything.”

“I promise it won’t be more than you can take.” Liam grinned and Dalton shook his head.

“You’re a sweetie,” he replied sarcastically.

“I know. I try
really
hard to be sugary.” Liam linked his fingers with Dalton’s. “So, first time on a bike, huh? I really like being your first, Dee.”

“Yeah, I know you do. Make it memorable for me.”

“I promise, Dee, everything I do to you, you’ll never forget.”

Dalton chuckled, shaking his head softly at him. “Promises, promises.”

“I always keep my promises.” Liam winked before they both laughed.

Liam wasn’t ready to think about letting Dalton go, but he found himself struggling to think of more with him too. He was at a crossroad in his life, with no idea which direction he should go in. He should follow his own advice and just go with the flow like he’d said to Dalton, but saying and doing a thing was totally different.

Chapter
23

D
alton jerked awake. The beeping from one of his dad’s machines surrounding the hospital bed woke him up from his sleep. He watched as a nurse came running through the door, and then turned to look at his dad. He wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew the heart monitor and the erratic lines jumping up and down on its screen weren’t a good sign.

“What’s happening?” He stood up, but kept a good distance back from the bed, giving her room to rush around it.

“He’s having another heart attack.” She shot him a look as she pressed a large button above the bed. “It might be best if you step outside for a bit.”

Dalton watched as a doctor ran into the room, sparing Dalton a glance before taking over the situation. Dalton pressed himself up against the wall, watching as another nurse rushed into the room, all three now crowding around his dad.

Dalton knew this was the moment. It was happening right there in front of his eyes. There was no coming back.

The heart monitor stopped its erratic noises and flashing—a stillness filling the room before a straight line appeared on the screen and a high pitched whine rang out, signalling his dad’s heart was no longer beating. The doctor looked over to him, holding two paddles in his hands which Dalton had seen used on people before in situations like this. He nodded, and the doctor placed them over his dad’s chest. The first shock made his dad’s body rise slightly off the bed, the heart monitor flickering and giving Dalton a small glimmer of hope before it soon changed back to the flat line he feared. On the second shock, there was no movement at all, not even a small jerk and Dalton stepped forwards. He’d discussed reviving his dad beforehand with the doctor, and they knew Dalton didn’t want them to continue. “He’s gone.”

The doctor nodded, looking up at Dalton. “I'm so sorry, Mr Young. There was nothing we could do.”

“I know. It’s okay.” It was anything except okay, but what else could he say? There really was nothing else to be done about the situation. It was time to let go and see his dad in peace.

Dalton stood still as they moved around the bed. The nurse was talking to him and he responded, but he didn’t recall how or what was said. When the machines were switched off, and his dad was free from the wires attached to him, Dalton took a seat beside the bed again and held his hand. When he heard the door close softly behind the last nurse, he bowed his head to his dad’s chest and sobbed.

Four days they had together before that moment. Four days where they’d looked through pictures, shared stories, talked every time his dad opened his eyes. That day had been the worst. His dad had been out of it almost all day and when he did come round it was only murmuring and smiles. Dalton and the nurses had been expecting him to pass during the night, which was why Dalton had slept beside him. It didn’t stop the pain of losing him in any way, though, and Dalton was grateful the staff gave him as much time as he needed before he pulled himself from the chair and gathered his dad’s belongings, packing them up carefully before leaving the room.

He spoke to the nurses and thanked them for all their help before leaving for his car. He drove home in a daze, the lights blinding his puffy eyes. He didn’t know how he made it home safely, but there he was, parked up and looking at the dark, depressing place. It would always be his and Kelly’s home, not his, and he’d thought about selling it. It seemed fair because they both had money tied up in it, and he wanted a new start. It was hard spending so much time living with ghosts from the past.

He didn’t want to move, so he sat in the car, the radio on low, just staring off into the distance. It was two in the morning when he caught the DJ announcing his next song. Dalton rubbed his eyes roughly and then took a deep breath. He should text Kelly, let her know at least. When she woke up, it would be to bad news, but Dalton wanted to get it out of the way while he was still numb. Tomorrow he’d be a mess and he wanted to spend the whole day hiding from everyone.

He looked at the list of missed calls and texts after he’d finished. Some were from Kelly, two were from Milo, one telling him about the first appointment with the counsellor, the second was sent from his personal mobile asking Dalton to come round for dinner.

Dalton sent Milo a text to his personal mobile, simply saying his dad had gone and he wasn’t up for meeting anyone. He asked him to give him some space because knowing those three, they’d turn up in a few minutes.

Dalton opened the window and breathed in the cool night air, looking up at the stars above and thinking how everything had changed in such a short amount of time. The world around him was the same, the houses, the cars, the people in them, but how he saw everything had changed. Maybe things had always looked this way to others and he’d never noticed, but now everything seemed to be crystal clear, not wrapped in noisy clear plastic protecting him from seeing the world as it should be.

Maybe he should just leave this place now, never come back. Maybe he should leave Manchester and just start over afresh. That felt like running though, and hadn’t he promised himself not to do that just a couple of days ago? He sighed, switching off the engine, grimacing when his phone beeped.
Please don’t be Milo.
He didn’t know if he should feel relieved when he saw it was Kelly and she was on her way over. A simple call would be enough. Dalton didn’t want anyone around right then.

He was forced out of the car and into the house, leaving the front door ajar while he waited on the sofa in the sitting room for her to turn up. He must have zoned out because it felt like a few seconds before her voice filled the otherwise dead silence of the house.

“Dalton?” Kelly walked quietly into the room and looked at him, her eyes tearing up as she hugged herself. “The door was open. I locked it.”

“Okay.”

Kelly moved to him, sitting slowly beside him and weaving an arm around his waist. “Do you need anything? Tea? Food? Hugs?” She smiled softly. Dalton covered his face as he leaned forward and sighed. “How about all of them? Tea and toast and then a hug?”

“If it makes you feel better doing something, then fine, but I really don’t need anything right now. Except maybe a drink of something alcoholic.”

“We have wine.”

Dalton was thinking about something stronger, but wine would do.

“Let me grab a bottle.” Kelly tugged off her jacket and shoes, then disappeared into the kitchen for the wine.

Dalton kicked off his own shoes and laid back, looking up at the ceiling and running over those horrific last few minutes before his dad passed away. He’d seen people die before, and in much more traumatic ways than lying peacefully on a bed. The amount of road traffic accidents he’d attended over the years, and having to see the aftermath caused by metal ripping through flesh, Dalton thought he would have a harder edge to seeing death, but then no matter how Dalton empathised with the families of those previous deaths, none of them had been his blood, and none of them carried the weight of his last family member dying before his eyes.

Nothing about death was easy, no matter how it happened, but Dalton took some consolation his dad hadn't been taken by anyone in a car accident, or been beaten to death in some drunken bar brawl. It had been his time. He’d lived a long, happy life and Dalton had many good years to look back fondly over. So why did it hurt so much knowing he would never be able to go and chat as he drove by? Just knowing he lived down the road and Dalton could pop over anytime he wanted had always been a comforting thought. Now the house would be empty. Empty apart from the thousands of memories lurking in the corners.

“Here you go.” Kelly passed him a big glass of chilled wine and sat beside him again, assuming the pose they always took up on the sofa, each sitting on opposite sides, her legs curled underneath her and Dalton resting his feet on the coffee table in front of them. “To your dad.” She lifted her glass and Dalton raised his to his lips.

“To Dad.”

“I really loved him.”

“He loved you.” Dalton drank a few good mouthfuls, and then turned to look at Kelly. “Can I have Mog back?”

She chewed her bottom lip, and then nodded. “Sorry I took her in the first place. I just thought with everything going on I was doing you a favour. If you missed her, you should have just said, Dalton.”

“I just did, didn’t I?” Dalton finished off his wine then stood up, grasping for the open bottle on the coffee table. He wasn’t in the mood to sugarcoat shit like he usually did, and to be honest, he really didn’t think he should have to. “I want her back. She can't be happy at your parents’ place. They hate animals of every kind. I bet she can't even sit on the sofa.”

“Well, yeah. They don’t like her being in the house. She’s been sad too without you. How about I drop her off tomorrow?”

Dalton filled up his glass and nodded. “Yeah, she can keep me company while I sort out the funeral.”

“I’m here to help. Anything you need, just ask. You don’t really arrange stuff like this. That’s always been up to me.”

“And when was the last funeral you organised?” Dalton gave her a sardonic look, knowing she’d never arranged one.

“I meant other occasions, like our wedding for instance, or any number of parties which you took no interest in through the years. I did all that. I just thought you wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I’ll figure it out. I'm not stupid, Kelly. And… I was there while you prattled on about all those things. I just didn’t get a chance to help out. You didn’t ask and you enjoyed filling your time up with endless parties celebrating stuff which neither of us really gave a shit about. Like the wedding anniversaries. You and I didn’t care about them. Why have them? Christ.” Dalton drained another glass. “We even had one last year. Then, a few months later, I find out you're fucking someone else. Just why did you plan that party, Kelly? Why gather everyone and celebrate a marriage when you knew it was over?”

Kelly gazed into his eyes, not speaking, not reacting, just watching him as he looked down at her. “Like you, I enjoyed the lie. I enjoyed letting everyone think we were happy and had the perfect marriage. It made things easier. Hasn’t life been easy for you, Dalton? Hasn’t the lie helped keep you sane and sort of happy?”

“A lie isn’t real. Nothing about us was real.” Dalton was walking off to the kitchen to find another bottle.

“Our friendship was real, Dalton.”

He sighed heavily. He wanted her friendship, but he wasn’t too sure he wanted it right now. She was rubbing him up the wrong way and drinking was only going to make it worse. He leaned against the doorframe and looked into her eyes. “I think you should leave. I'm not in the mood for this, Kelly. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon if you could drop Mog off for me.”

Kelly paused, wine glass still full and clasped in her hands as she considered arguing with him. She obviously saw sense and stood up, leaving her untouched wine on the table. “Okay. I’ll call round at about eleven with her and check you're okay.” She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she stepped back and grabbed her jacket. “Don’t get too drunk, and if you do, just…” She sighed. “I don’t know. Just do what you want.” She smiled at him, then kissed him again. “I love you. I'm always here for you.”

“I know. Tonight isn’t a good time.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when the funeral will be.”

“I can get the numbers of a few funeral homes for you.”

“I can do it.” Dalton fought the scowl from making its way onto his face, but gave up and just set it free. “He’s my dad, not yours.”

“Okay, okay. You do it.”

Dalton followed her to the door, locking it behind her this time and falling onto the sofa, downing his third glass of wine and feeling its effect as he grabbed Kelly’s glass and drank it down too. He wasn’t going to sleep, so passing out seemed like a good plan.

~ ~ ~

It was sunny when he woke, but despite the curtains being pulled open and light flooding the room, there was a dark shadow covering him. For a moment, the presence near him seemed to be his dad, and Dalton stiffened, waiting for his voice to tell him man up and get on with it. Finally, Dalton’s bleary eyes focused on Danny standing over him. He was dressed in the navy pants and t-shirt with the logo for the fire station where he worked, hands on hips, lips pursed tight as he looked over him.

“Danny? What… How?”

Dalton didn’t know how he’d gotten in, or why he was there. In fact, he’d no idea what was going on because it felt like seconds ago when he closed his eyes in a drunken blur of wine, the three empty bottles clashing around his feet as he nodded off.

“I
may
have forced entry, but… not really. The window was slightly open and I just
sort of
forced it to open wider.” Danny was brushing his brown hair from his face and pointing into the kitchen where the biggest window was now gaping wide open and the draining board next to the sink had boot shaped prints on it. “Kelly called. Said she tried to get in but your key was in the door and you didn’t answer. Milo called me so I popped round on my lunch break to see if you were still alive. I see you are, just barely, but hung over.”

“Uh huh.” Dalton closed his eyes. His head banging. He never was one for drinking wine—it always gave him the mother of all hangovers. “I had no idea she came round. What time is it?”