Page 203 of Save You

“But what if I do?What if I can’t do this?”The expression in his eyes is one I’ve never seen on him before: fear.It flickers on his face and seems suddenly to fill the massive car.

“I’m there for you,” I say.Only four words, but at this moment, I’m putting everything I can into those few syllables.

James gives me a long look.He seems to understand everything else I’m trying to say.Gradually, the sheer panic fades from his face, to be replaced by tenderness and the warmth that’s been in his eyes for me all evening.

The next moment, James takes my hand.He links his fingers into mine and squeezes gently.

“And I’m there for you.Whatever happens.”

I let myself sink back and lean my head against his shoulder.

It’s a little easier to breathe now.

We can do this.

James

It’s after half past one when a loud crash startles me awake.I jerk upright so fast that the e-reader falls off the bed and lands on the floor, but that’s the least of my worries.I run at top speed over the landing to Lydia’s room.But when I fling her door open, she’s just sitting up in bed, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Are you OK?”I ask.

She nods.“What was that?”

“Must have been Dad,” I reply, feeling my pulse quicken.

I don’t want to go downstairs.

I don’t want to know what else he’s smashed.

I don’t want to fucking worry about him.

Everything in me is yelling at me to go back to bed, but I head down the stairs.Another crash.Whatever Dad’s up to, he’s in the dining room.

I creep quietly down the hall.The closer I get, the more clearly I can hear him.He’s mumbling something; he sounds like he’s angry with somebody.Could it be Mary or Percy?

Just before I get to the dining room, I press myself against the wall with the door on my left.

“You bitch,” my father slurs.“You shouldn’t have done it.”

I frown and creep closer.Who the hell is he talking to?

“I’ll never forgive you.Now I’m on my own with the two of them and I can’t do anything right and it’s allyourfucking fault!”He roars those last words.I lean out from my hiding place just in time to see him hurl a full decanter of whisky at the family portrait over the dining table.I gasp as the decanter shatters, the sound ringing in my ears.The brown liquid runs down from Mum over Lydia and me.It looks as if the paint is running.Mum’s face smears like a melting waxwork, gradually transforming into a monster.A grotesque mask, looking down on my father from above, mocking him.

At this moment, the anger at him that’s always slumbering inside me awakes into new life, and the heat that flows through my veins is one that only he can trigger.I clench my fists, and I’m about to walk into the room to confront him when he suddenly makes a new sound.

From behind, I see his shoulders shaking.He gasps for breath, again and again, then suddenly his knees give way and he sinks to the floor.Among all the broken glass.He claps his hands to his face, and then I hear it again.

My father is sobbing.

I can’t move; I’m rooted to the spot as I watch him weep.I think about all the times he made me cry.I think about his fists, his shouts, his insults, and the cold way he always looks at me.I think about the day of the funeral when he instructed us on how to act.The way he didn’t tell us about Mum’s death.

And I realize that I’m not feeling the satisfaction I want to feel.Anything but.My dad is suffering.What kind of a person would it make me if I turned around now and went back up to my room?

It’s not easy to take the first step, but I do it.I walk into the dining room, being careful not to step in the wreckage of his fury, and stand behind him.Purely on instinct, I lay a hand on Dad’sshoulder and press it for a moment.The sobbing stops at once and he holds his breath.

Just as I’m about to take my hand away, he reaches for it.He clings to it, almost desperately, and I let him.A weird feeling floods over me.Something I haven’t felt for my father for ages.

I look up at the portrait of us.Dad has both hands on Lydia’s shoulders, and I’m standing in front of Mum, who has her arms wrapped around me.The colors might have blurred, but I remember what it was like that day.I remember what it felt like to be part of a family.