Authors: Amanda Dick
Callum stared back at her, mulling it over.
“Please?”
Finally, he nodded. “I won’t go looking for him – that, I can promise. But if he tries to talk to me – if he comes anywhere near you – I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself. I’m sorry but that’s the best I can do.”
She nodded, reaching over to lay her hand on his. Part of her didn’t imagine that Jack would want to come anywhere near any of them today. But then she remembered him talking to Maggie yesterday and it gnawed away at her. She could do this – go to Tom’s funeral, say goodbye – but only if she didn’t have to talk to Jack. Seeing him would be hard enough but talking to him was a whole different ballgame and she didn’t have her game face ready yet.
“Thank you.”
Callum wanted to kill Jack for vanishing like that – she knew it, he had told her so often enough, back when they still talked about him. None of them could understand why he did it, it was so unlike him. He had rejected them – all of them – and it hurt. It didn’t get any easier to understand over time, either. You just pushed the uncertainty way down deep and got used to not knowing. She could see the hurt and frustration building in him over the years – the sense of betrayal that she felt, she knew he felt too. Jack wasn’t just hers to lose – he was Callum’s best friend. He had been rejected, too.
She loved him like a brother, but Callum had a temper that was well documented. Not so long ago, he had overheard Andy McLeish make some smart-ass, back-handed comment about her in Barney’s bar and he had felt obliged to defend her honour. His explanation for what followed had not held much sway in court and he had been lucky to escape with anger management counseling and what was tantamount to a good-behaviour bond – a miracle in itself, taking into account his existing record. He joked afterwards that it was worth it, but she hadn’t seen the funny side. The last thing she wanted was for him to end up in court again, even though she suspected he would think Jack was worth the jail time.
“I never really thought he’d come back, not even for the funeral,” Callum said, interrupting her thoughts. “He seemed pretty determined to keep this town in his rear-view mirror.”
She nodded silently, thinking back over the past four years and all the times she wished he would come back. And now that he was here, it was all wrong. Tom wasn’t here to help smooth things over. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
She glanced up to find him staring at her. “What?” she frowned, afraid she had unconsciously vocalised her thoughts.
“I don’t know – you tell me.”
It was like he could read her mind sometimes, and it scared her. She pushed all thoughts of Jack aside with a mental sweep, just in case.
“I had the running dream again.” The moment the words had left her lips, the dream came flooding back.
“What happened this time?”
It unnerved her sometimes, having a giant hole in her memory, entire days gone. Her dreams varied wildly. Callum had told her what happened that night, but her brain chose to fill in the gaps in any number of weird and wonderful ways. Callum was always honest with her, pointing out what really happened and dismissing other details as pure fantasy. Her heart swelled with gratitude.
“I started off in the park. Then I ran along River Road.”
She remembered the soles of her feet tingling as they relentlessly hit the asphalt.
“Then what happened?”
“I saw the ambulance from the turn-off. The lights were flashing. No one was around. As I got closer, the ambulance was empty. Then I saw the car.” She shook her head, the image of the pile of mangled metal that had once been Jack’s pride and joy burned into her brain. “And I saw us.”
“And then?”
“You were trapped under the car. Jack and I were trying to get you out. There was blood everywhere.”
Callum reached for her hand, enclosing it with his own. “That’s just your over-active imagination making stuff up again. It didn’t really happen.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“You okay?”
She nodded again, taking a few moments to rein in her emotions. “Yeah. I just wish today was over.”
“
Be not afraid of growing slowly; be only afraid of standing still.
”
- Chinese Proverb
Callum left Ally’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He wanted to punch something – or more to the point, someone. Specifically, Jack. Even more specifically, he wanted to rip Jack’s head off his shoulders and ram it down his selfish neck. He climbed into his car and slammed the door shut with more force than he intended. He sat there for a moment, gripping the keys in the ignition. Finally, he gunned the engine and pulled away from the curb.
He was grateful that Maggie was there when Jack had finally fronted up, because Ally had made it clear she wasn’t ready. He wondered if she ever would be. He had no idea how much of what she was feeling was grief over Tom’s death, and how much was anxiety over Jack’s return. The two were clearly linked.
Who the hell does he think he is, showing up like that? I told him she didn’t want to see him!
Tom’s death was like a bolt from the blue. From the very beginning of his friendship with Jack, he had taken a shine to Tom. He was everything his own father wasn’t and he was a little jealous of Jack at first. After his father had walked out on the family, he began to spend more and more time with Jack and Tom, appreciating the stable home environment and relationship that they shared, wanting to share it with them. Tom took over as the role model he never really had, even when his drunken father had been around. Losing him like this, so suddenly, left a hole that he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fill. It was Tom who had sat with him when he broke the news to Ally about her injury. Tom had been the one to help organise her rehab placement and later, her release. He had spent many a night with Tom as they talked and drank into the early hours of the morning, discussing how they were going to help her through this.
He knew Jack had been calling Tom – he was there when the first call had come through, the day Jack disappeared. He had tried to wrestle the phone off Tom but by the time he had, Jack was gone.
He called him back immediately – against Tom’s wishes – only to go straight to voicemail. Jack’s phone had gone to voicemail from that moment on. Jack had cut him loose – cut all of them loose, including Ally. Even knowing this, Tom had been a stubborn mule, refusing to hand over Jack’s new number. No amount of shouting, needling or taunting had moved him, and eventually a tentative truce had been struck. Tom’s loyalties remained with Jack, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be there for Ally – or Callum. Reluctantly, Callum had accepted that.
Those early days had been tough. Jack was gone, but he was there and Ally needed someone she could count on. Unconsciously, he had stepped forward. At times, he had nearly buckled beneath the weight of that responsibility, and that’s when he had turned to Tom, desperately trying to keep it together. Tom encouraged him to unload his fears, not bottle them up.
Watching Ally tentatively navigating her way through her new life nearly tore him apart and no matter how courageous she tried to prove she was, he knew deep down that she was scared. He could see it, plain as day. Jack vanishing like that had done things to her soul. How could Jack just walk away from her?
Knowing that he was back just scratched away at the scab that had grown over the wound created four years earlier. Unlike everyone else, he knew why Jack had left. Unexpected? Yes – but not a mystery. He had seen it tear Ally apart and he had desperately wanted to enlighten her, but he couldn’t. He suspected the truth would be harder for her to stomach, so he had kept quiet. It wasn’t his place to tell her.
He slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel, wishing he had never made that promise to Ally. The thought of the funeral, of having to watch in silence as Jack stood up in front of everyone to deliver Tom’s eulogy, made him sick to his stomach. Tom deserved better.
Ally sat in the passenger seat of Callum’s car, staring out the window. She wished the church was further away than just a fifteen minute drive. She would have happily sat in the car for another hour if it meant she could avoid the inevitable for a while longer.
“You okay?”
The concern in Callum’s voice was evident, but the question was so ridiculous she ignored him. To his credit, he didn’t push the issue. Maggie and Jane sat in the back seat in silence. By the time they pulled up in front of the church, she was so tense she wasn’t sure she could move even if she wanted to. As they parked along from the church, cars already lining the street, her anxiety mounted.
“Come on,” Callum said, to no one in particular. “Let’s get this over with.”
She found herself glued to the seat. She stared out through the windshield, searching desperately for courage. One thought rang out louder than the others.
He’s here, somewhere.
Callum opened the passenger door and crouched down beside her. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do,” she said, carefully controlling her voice.
“Okay,” he murmured. “If you’re sure. We’re gonna be right beside you.”
He hung her crutches over the car door and stepped back to give her room. Willing her hands to stop shaking, she pulled herself up and out of the car, locking her braces and slipping her arms into her crutches without a word.
Maggie appeared at her side, carefully draping her arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s get inside and find a seat.”
Callum waited, then pushed the car door closed behind her. Together, they headed down the street towards the church. Ally found herself having to concentrate harder than usual to co-ordinate her movements. Her shoulders were tense, making progress slow. She wanted to cry, such was the frustration.
“Remember your promise,” Jane whispered to Callum.
Her stomach knotted up even tighter but she kept moving. Her eyes were fixed determinedly on her legs as she threw each hip forward, her legs following suit.
“Can we sit near the back?” she mumbled.
“Absolutely. Good idea.”
As they got to the front steps of the church, she froze. The thought of walking inside made her blood run cold. “I need a minute.”
“It’s okay.” Callum squeezed her arm gently. “We’ll wait. Take your time.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I just need to get my head around this.”
“It’s fine,” he urged Maggie and Jane. “I’ll wait with her, you go ahead, save us a seat.”
Ally opened her mouth to protest, but Callum was quicker. “I’m not leaving you out here by yourself.”
A group of people walked past them into the church.
“Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit down for a minute.” Callum nodded towards the garden laid out next to the church.
With mature trees and pretty flowerbeds, it was sprinkled with benches donated by parishioners in memory of loved ones. The perfect place to find some solitude and take a breather from the chaos.
As she let Callum usher her away from the steps, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. It felt like everyone was watching her. The prodigal son had returned, along with the rumours about why he had left – with herself square in the middle of them.
Jack arrived at the church and sat in his car for several minutes, watching people arrive. They huddled together in small groups, before finally making their way inside. He spotted Father David at the church door, greeting folk as they entered, reminding him painfully of his mother’s funeral.
When he could finally bring himself to get out of the car, he headed straight for the church door before he could change his mind. He allowed Father David to usher him to the front pew, surrounded by faces that he both did and didn’t recognise. He kept his head down, trying to block out the whispers that seemed to follow him. He felt like a spotlight was shining on him.
A few of the more direct friends of his father came up to him and shook his hand, offering their condolences, their expressions caged. He smiled and thanked them woodenly. It felt like every pair of eyes in the church was on him. He felt more alone than he had ever felt in the past four years.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the service began. He silently prayed for strength, in the same breath knowing he hadn’t any right to pray for anything. His hands were wet with perspiration as he wiped them hard against his thighs, trying to ignore the fact that his father’s coffin lay mere feet from where he sat.
An unfamiliar photo of his father stood on top of it. He had aged in the past four years, and not just chronologically. He looked weathered, beaten down. Old. It tore at his heart.
Did I do that? Did I make it so hard on him by not being here, that I wore him down until he couldn’t take it anymore? Did he die not of a heart attack, but of a broken heart?
He vaguely recalled hearing a hymn sung, then Father David stepped up to the pulpit to speak. He couldn’t hear a thing for the pounding in his ears.
A hand patted his shoulder lightly. It was time for him to step up and give his eulogy. He stared blankly up at Father David in front of him, and received a smile of encouragement as he beckoned towards him. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he made his way over to the pulpit, where the priest shook his hand firmly and stepped aside. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow and he worried he wouldn’t be able to speak.
As he turned to face the body of the church, the sea of faces swam in front of him. He unconsciously searched the congregation for Ally, until self-preservation kicked in. If he saw her, he would never get through this. Tearing his attention away, he found himself staring again at his father’s coffin. The unfamiliar photograph gazed back at him.
Then he was barreling down the aisle with his head down, aware only of the knot in his chest drawing ever tighter, threatening to choke him. He burst through the double doors of the church and out into the sunshine, gulping in air like a diver resurfacing. Searching wildly, his need to escape took precedence over everything else. Locking onto the garden alongside the church, he stumbled towards the nearest bench and sank into it, frightened that at any moment his lungs might burst.