‘Ah no!’ She rubbed his back as he slumped onto a kitchen stool, her heart sinking. ‘Abuse?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘Yeah.’ His lip wobbled.
‘Oh Jonathan, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what to say,’ she said helplessly. ‘Can you talk about it? Can you tell me what’s happened to upset you?’
‘I don’t want to offload on you, Hilary. God, we’ve only just met and here I am bawling in your kitchen.’ He gave her a wobbly smile, tears brimming in his eyes.
‘That’s what friends are for! And we’re friends,’ she said firmly, deciding to abandon her plan to eat outside. ‘Let me pour you a coffee. I have a few cheese, bacon and mushroom croissants in the oven, if you’re able to eat.’
‘I felt a bit sick earlier, but the smell is very enticing,’ he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and perking up a little bit in the warmth of her cherishing.
‘Sit there, and I’ll dish them up. I’m starving,’ she confessed. ‘I felt very ropy this morning and haven’t had anything yet, and the reason I rang you was to apologize for acting like an out-and-out dipso. I haven’t drunk that much in yonks.’
‘Would you stop! I wasn’t that far behind you, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I hope it’s the first of many a night on the tear for us,’ he said with some of his old spark as she handed him a mug of coffee.
She laughed. ‘My nights on the tear will be few and far between, unfortunately. I have a husband and children to factor in.’
‘Minor detail,’ he said airily and she was glad to see a bit of colour coming back into his cheeks. She served up their brunch and sat beside him at the counter. ‘This is lovely,’ he said, forking melted cheese and some bacon and mushroom into his mouth.
‘My children love it.’ She savoured the flaky croissant, feeling ravenous.
‘I’d say you’re a great mother.’ He took a gulp of coffee.
‘Oh I don’t know so much – you should hear me screeching at them in the mornings to get down for their breakfast.’
‘My mother had a wonderful roar,’ he smiled. ‘“JonaaAAATHANNN!” It would wake the dead.’
‘You’ve very close to her, aren’t you?’ His conversation the previous day had been peppered with mentions of Nancy.
‘Yeah,’ he sighed, putting down his fork. ‘And that’s part of my problem.’
‘Tell me,’ she invited.
And he did, the whole tragic, sad, appalling saga, right up to where his mother had phoned him and told him she expected him to be at the removal. It emptied out of him in halting, angry, grief-stricken bursts.
‘You can’t go! You just can’t go,’ Hilary said emphatically, tears trickling down her face. She was devastated for her friend.
He reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘No one’s ever cried for me before,’ he said.
‘Haven’t you told anyone? Your sisters even?’ she asked, wiping her eyes with some kitchen towel.
‘No, I never told them. I couldn’t bring myself to, or my mam, they’d be gutted.’
‘If something like that happened to one of my children, I’d want to know,’ she said fiercely.
‘Don’t forget my father was dead and Mam was working her fingers to the bone to make ends meet for us and give us a good upbringing,’ he reminded her. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I didn’t know how to tell her. I was afraid she might not believe me. And besides I was petrified of what he might do if I told her. He always threatened me that he would make life hard for her if I said anything. That used to scare the living daylights out of me.’
‘But when you grew up and when her life became easier, would you not have said it to her? It would have been healing for you not having to carry the burden of secrecy,’ Hilary persisted.
‘My counsellor points that out too, when she tells me it’s my choice and I should do what’s right for me, but can you imagine how tormented Mam would be? Her life would be in upheaval. She’d never have a moment’s peace of mind again. And, she would have still had him living beside her until now.’ He shook his head. ‘Hilary, I just couldn’t do it to her, even though I was tempted to tell her many times and I know that she would never hold it against me. I know she would chastise me for keeping it from her for so long. But why would I allow that bastard to destroy two lives? Because her life would be destroyed. She’d be tortured with guilt . . . wouldn’t you?’ He eyed her glumly.
‘Yes! I’d never forgive myself for allowing it to happen—’
‘No! No, Hilary, you can’t say that. You wouldn’t “allow” it. Mam didn’t “allow” it to happen. It was him and his cunning, and his deviousness. He was such a calculating bastard. All paedophiles and sexual abusers are. And I was good at hiding stuff, too. A lot of abused children are. They feel it’s their fault and they don’t want to upset their parents. So I attach no blame to my mam in any way,’ he said emphatically.
‘I know you don’t, Jonathan, I’m just reacting as a mother. I’d want to know,’ she pointed out.
‘And I’m just reacting as a son who loves his mother very much,’ he said gently. ‘She’s almost seventy now. She deserves a peaceful old age and I want her to have a tranquil, untroubled life. She’s sure as hell earned it.’ He sat up straight. ‘And you know something? She’s going to have it. Thanks for letting me talk this through with you, Hilary. I was angry with her when she phoned me expecting me to go home tomorrow. But I bloody well will go. It will be good to see that coffin. Damn good. I hope
