LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘Sure, that’s the greatest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. You’re good parents, good people. But even the best can’t get it all right all the time.’ I point my finger at him to illustrate how emphatic I am about this point.

      There it is in all its glory – self-doubt – one of the ugliest of our inner turmoils, glaring out of my son’s eyes.

      ‘I. Should. Have. Seen. It. Coming,’ Olly spits out, his voice rising with every word he says.

      ‘You can raise your voice all you like, but that doesn’t make your bullshit any truer,’ I say.

      He stops at my words and half-laughs, saluting me with the tip of his hand. ‘It’s a while since you’ve used that line on me.’

      ‘It’s a statement I’ve used to good effect in many a battle of wills. You were a stubborn little fecker as a kid.’

      ‘You used to say it to me all the time. Must remember it for the next time Mae shouts at me,’ Olly laughs.

      ‘Don’t you be using my good lines to score points with your wife,’ I say. But I’m smiling too. Olly starts to fidget and I think that he’s about to leave. But I don’t want this conversation to end. What if it’s one of our last ones? I haven’t said everything that I need to.

      ‘Was I a good father to you?’ I ask him. ‘Don’t lie, lad. Speak the truth, now.’

      I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. I want the truth, of course I do, but in the name of God, please don’t let him tell me I was a crap father.

      ‘The best,’ I exhale in relief.

      ‘But did I make mistakes?’ I say again. ‘Were there times that you thought, fuck you, Pops, and the horse you rode into town on!’

      Olly looks shocked at this and begins to shake his head in denial of the statement.

      ‘Liar! You know there were times when I got it wrong. But that’s okay, because in the main I got it right and you always knew I loved you, even when I messed up. Right?’ I demand.

      Olly smiles at me and says, ‘I always knew that you loved me. And you didn’t get it wrong often, Pops.’

      I’m grateful for his words.

      ‘Thanks, lad. But I’m not fishing for compliments from you, although I’m not sorry to hear them. I just want to illustrate that it’s okay to have the odd bad day, as long as in the main you get it right. You can’t be Evie’s hero every day of the week, can you? Even Spiderman gets the odd day off. The girl needs to live her own life, make her own mistakes, learn from them and she can’t do that if she’s under her parents’ coat tails.’

      ‘But every time she goes into her bedroom, I’m worried sick about what she could be doing in there. I tell you, Pops, it’s crossed my mind to put in cameras so I can be sure she’s not downing another bottle of fecking vodka!’

      ‘Would you whist, lad. Let the girl have her privacy. Sure, God knows, when you were that age you spent half your life in your bedroom and you’re still alive. Don’t tell me you didn’t have a sneaky drink back then.’

      ‘I never ended up in hospital with alcoholic poisoning, though, Pops,’ Olly states.

      ‘No, you didn’t. But you had my heart broken more than once. Evie messed up. What you need to do is find out why. She’s been withdrawn for months now. I know she’s not talking yet, but she’ll tell you in her own good time what’s going on. She’s a strong girl, she just needs to remember that.’

      I think I’m beginning to get through to Olly because he’s stopped stooping and is now sitting up straighter in the chair. He has a look on his face that I’ve not seen in a long time – determination.

      We sit without speaking for a while and I think about Mae and wonder if I dare bring up their marriage. It’s a dangerous thing talking about the inner sanctum of a couple’s life. In fact, it’s true that I have no business snooping around there. But I realise that I have to speak up. Someone has to, because they seem hell-bent on destroying themselves.

      ‘You and Mae. You need to watch that,’ I decide to take the bull by the horns and get straight to it. No time to dilly-dally around the issue.

      ‘You don’t think I don’t know that?’ Olly responds. ‘I can feel her slipping away from me, every day one little bit further. But I’m powerless to stop her. I don’t know who she is any more. She’s changed, Pops.’

      ‘Arra, nobody stays the same, lad. We all change as we go through life and that’s good, ’cos it would be pretty boring otherwise. You’re not the same man you used to be, either. Did you ever think of that?’

      Olly looks startled at this piece of information.

      ‘I’ve seen a change in you these past months, since you stopped working. I daresay that Mae has noticed it too.’

      ‘I’m still the same person,’ Olly’s petulant and irritated, reminding me of his teenage self. I hope he listens more to me now than he did back then.

      ‘No you’re not, son. You’re different. I know losing your job has been tough. But maybe it’s time to look at your redundancy with different eyes.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ he asks.

      ‘Well, you didn’t even like that job. Don’t lie. You were just punching the clock every day.’

      ‘I hated it,’ he admits. ‘How did I even end up as an accountant?’

      ‘You always wanted to be an astronaut,’ I say. ‘Walk on the moon.’

      ‘Think NASA might have an age limit on new recruits, Pops,’ he says, laughing.

      ‘Never say never,’ I tell him. ‘You might not get to the moon, but who says that this can’t be the catalyst for you to make a change. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, why not take this opportunity to look for a new direction? You can’t hide out at home forever.’

      He looks doubtful. I can almost hear his mind working through excuses.

      ‘That’s what life is about, lad – change. You need to talk to Mae. She can’t read minds, you know. Tell her what’s going on in your head. If you stopped blaming each other for every damn set-back that’s happened to you both, you might remember that you love each other. You’re being too careless with her.’

      ‘What if it’s too late? What if I’ve lost her, Pops?’ Olly asks, shoulders down low again.

      ‘No!’ I shout. ‘No, God damn it, Olly, no! Stop being so damn defeatist about the woman you love. I’d have given anything to have the time you have with Mae, with my wife. I didn’t get that chance. You need to start paying more attention to her. And I don’t care how many times Mae tells you that she’s okay or pushes you away, don’t believe her. Because she’s obviously not! You walk over to your wife and you hold her in your arms. Do you hear me, son?’

      I start to cough and know that I’m done for now. Between the wheezing and racking cough and the pain that is now taking control of me, I cannot speak another word.

      I hold my hand up, reassuring Olly that I’m not about to die, and he leans in close, clutching my hand once again between his own. I point to the water and my meds and he helps me take a sip to swallow the chalky tabs down. I close my eyes and somehow or other, despite the pain, I manage to drift off to sleep.

      When I wake up, it’s dark outside. I must have been out cold for several hours. I can smell dinner wafting towards me, but regrettably my appetite has been absent for weeks. I say ‘regrettable’ because, at a guess, from the beautiful aroma that is snaking its way around my room, Olly has made fish pie. That’s one of my favourites. He’s a good lad.

      Rather, it used to be a favourite. I make a vow to try to eat a mouthful to please him, but just the thought

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