CHAPTER 9
I
set off nice and early – 8 a.m. – having said my farewellsto Janey and Michael. It’s a six-hour journey so will take the best part of aday to get there, factoring in a lunch break etc. My nerves are jangling, and Ihonestly can’t decide whether this is through a nervous excitement, or as aresult of a poorly made decision on my part to make this trip in the firstplace. No going back now though, and I reason with myself that this time on myown as I make the journey will do me good. There’s no one there to disrupt me;just me, the car, and the open road, and I like the sound of that. I set thesatellite navigation, select a random playlist of songs, and hit theaccelerator pedal.
Not long after setting off, I startimagining what the next couple of weeks are going to have in store. I haven’tlet George know that I’m on my way yet or even that I’d made plans to go upnorth. I figured I’d get there, get settled in, and maybe a bit of sightseeingfirst before I make that call. With that in mind there’s no way he can havemade any prior arrangements for me to go anywhere/meet anyone as he doesn’teven know about my imminent arrival.
I wonder whether I might get reunited withmy siblings if any of them are in the area? It would be a relief if they were,not only to catch up but to discuss mother’s welfare and to hear what they haveto say about the visit father paid her in the care home. Since I am no longerin contact with them it feels as though I bear the brunt of worry when it comesto her care and I relish the idea of lightening that load somewhat.
Would George be planning on taking me tothe croft to see father? I shudder at the thought. I left home at a young ageand I have never been back. What would our meeting (if it were to take place)be like? I imagine he still has a fixed image in his mind of what I look likeand what my demeanour is like. He will be expecting that same terrified boy tobe stood before him. Would he even recognise me? I imagine I’ll still recognisehim; his wicked contorted face sometimes still darkens my dreams.
I have come a long way over these yearsand would like to think I could meet him face to face; man to man and not cowerin his presence, but would that be the case? If I were to stand before him now,could I stop myself from falling apart?
I daydream about standing before him;imagining that I stand a foot taller than him; peering down on him as he usedto do with me. He is weak now in my dream; leaning for balance on a cane and heis unable to give me eye contact. I don’t speak to him, I simply smack himsquare in the face with my fist and send him reeling backwards. Without thecane to steady him he falls to the floor and I shake my head at him indicatingthat no, it is not OK for him to get up off the floor until I grant himpermission. He bows his head in a submissive gesture. This feels so good; theroles have reversed, and I have the power over him. I imagine mother isn’t in thecare home, she’s there to witness the scene. She’s aware of the shift of power,he’s loosened his grip over us, and I’ve taken charge. She relaxes as sheunderstands he can no longer hurt her whilst I’m there to protect her.
Dare I let my mind drift further intoconcocting weird and wonderful ways to punish him as he has done to me or do Irein it in, unwilling to let my mind tap into that dark place? There is a senseonce you go there it may become a descent. Did I really want to descend to thedeep dark places he resided in?
There’s no time to ponder this further asI’m momentarily aware of movement in front of the car; there’s a loud band andthe windowpane cracks and splinters; the spiders web of broken glass extendingto either end of the window. Instincts kick in and I bring the car to anemergency stop; the back having jutted off to the right with the force of theimpact. My mind has yet to catch up and comprehend what has just happened. Asearing pain has clawed its way from the base of my skull and rooted itselfacross the top of my head, sending shockwaves of pain along my nerve endings.My chest feels so tight, and I struggle to catch a breath but realise the causeof this as I glance down – the airbag is pressed firmly against my chest, sothe impact must’ve activated it.
I have to breathe;this is the first thing I have to attend to, so I manage to adjust the seatinto a reclined position to remove the weight off my chest and I take a hugebreath into my lungs and release.
Focus. I hear a remote part of my brainurging for clarity; to shake the fugue and allow me to collect myself. I feelthe veil of fog starting to lift and with it the pain sets in. OK, don’t panic,where am I hurt? My head has clearly taken a knock as it is pounding but think positively,I’m still conscious. Is everything else OK? I take a mental scan of my body andlocate the source of my pain, my lower back. I take some deep breaths, notwanting to move in any direction quickly and without any due thought. I surmisethat at least nothing appears to be broken. My heart is racing as I bracemyself for what’s out there. What did I hit? An animal, another vehicle or aperson? Oh God, I wince at the last thought. It all happened so quickly I hadno time to process the images or form them into any kind of order.
The
