Page 47 of The Cut

‘DAD!’ Nate shouted down the stairs. ‘The power’s gone out!’

Ben had flung open the basement door, nearly wrenching it off its hinges.

He’d picked up the heavy cables trailing along the floor and, with an almighty tug, he’d ripped them out of their sockets, causing the circuit board to short.

He had spent the last few hours loading the monitors and the rest of Karine’s camera equipment on to the trolleys.

He stormed back into the basement and manually opened the up-and-over door.

Putting all his weight behind it, he shoved their crap out on to the lower drive.

The wheels hit the kerb and toppled over.

The monitors smashed on to the flagstones, shattering the glass, and the lids of the trunks burst open, spewing their contents all over the ground.

It was raining hard; the electronics would be ruined.

He slammed the garage door and stormed back into the basement.

‘DAD?’ Nate shouted again from upstairs.

He’d decided to keep the hard drive; it was his property now and he had spent all night wiping it clean.

He searched along the storage shelving for a place to hide it, his eyes adjusting to the dark.

The pile of boxes from his parents’ attic, the remnants of their life before, had been moved on to the floor.

The blue highchair was tipped over, the old oil paintings lay flat and the suitcases were lined up on their sides.

Someone had been down here, rifling through his things.

Ben felt his way back along the line of the shelves to the service cupboard, flipped the trip switch and the lights flickered 258 into life.

The security alarm beeped as it rearmed and pin-dot lights in the cameras around the house flashed as the system recalibrated.

He headed up the stairs and poked his head around the door to Nate’s room.

‘All good?’

Nate was standing in the centre of three enormous box lights. A table was set up in front of him, loaded with his special effects make-up. A white towel was on the floor, spotted with blood. Nate was standing with his shirt off, patting a sponge on to his ribs, nursing a livid bruise.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ Ben stepped into the room. His face was red and beaded with sweat. ‘Who are you talking to?’

‘Uh … don’t we knock in this house anymore?’ Nate crossed one arm over his chest, covering his body, while pulling at his dressing gown, which he’d draped over the chair. Ben sat on the side of the bed. ‘Apparently not,’ Nate mumbled to himself uncomfortably.

‘Is all this for the film?’ Ben scanned the room, looking at the clothing strewn around.

‘Tell me the truth, Nate.’ His eyes fell on a pair of swimming trunks and then a grey blazer and a blue and red school tie, stuffed into a red leather Nottingham Forest sports bag.

‘Oh my God, is that …?’ Ben stood and went to the pile of props in the corner. ‘Where did you find this?’

‘Why do you care?’ Nate’s eyes met his.

Hyperventilating, Ben’s head was light. He felt dizzy as he slowly pulled the old tie out of the bag and turned it over. Stitched into the back seam was an embroidered name badge. B. Knot. A lump came into his throat.

‘Your grandma sewed this.’

Ben studied the school tie. There was a cigarette burn on the narrow-pointed end. Lynette Davis’s handiwork. 259

Nate stared at his father, who suddenly looked as vulnerable as a child, turning the faded tie in his hands and picking up the threadbare blazer. ‘We couldn’t afford the proper one, but she found this at C&A.’ Nate had never seen his dad like this.

Ben pushed the clothing back into his old school bag and looked at his son. ‘What else did you find?’

‘School books, report cards: “disruptive in class, needs to control his temper”.’ Nate’s mouth curved at the corners. ‘“Thinks he’s Gary Barlow.”’

Ben cracked a smile. ‘Yeah well, I had more hair then.’

‘Is that why Mum left … and Dani?’ It came out of nowhere.

‘What do you mean?’ Ben stared at his son, confused. ‘Because I lost my hair?’

‘No, because you lost your temper.’ Nate chewed his lip.

‘Everyone has a temper, mate.’ Ben swallowed. ‘I’m just … stressed with work.’

‘You always say that.’ Nate turned back to the table.

‘Listen, Nathan … Dani … Dani has just gone to her sister’s to … exhale for a bit.’

‘Because you’re in trouble.’ Nate eyeballed his dad. ‘Lily told me.’

Ben’s head snapped around to his son. ‘Told you what?’

‘That you’ve lost all your money … she read it online.’ Nate retracted from his dad’s glare. ‘Dad, are we going to have to move? I like it here.’

Ben sighed wearily. ‘I can’t do this now, mate.’ He stood up to leave.

‘You drove Mum away and now Dani …’

‘Whoa … wind your neck in, buster.’ Ben’s voice rose. He turned and took a pace towards Nate, physically threatening. ‘Don’t speak to me like that, or I’ll—’ 260

‘Or you’ll what?’ Nathan was standing eye to eye with his father.

Ben was lost in the moment, truly lost. What was he doing? Was he going to fight his own son? His son, who quite rightly wanted answers. He’d lost everyone he’d ever loved and now he was risking losing the trust of his son. He broke, just about holding back the tears.

The sight was something Nathan never expected. ‘Dad?’ He was shocked. ‘Sorry, Dad.’

Ben gathered himself. ‘No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Truly, Nate. I’m going to sort this whole mess out, OK?’ Nathan nodded at his dad, but inside he was more worried than ever.

As Ben turned to leave the room, a surge of emotion punched into his chest like an electric shock.

On Nate’s desk, behind the door, was his father’s old 1950s tan leather suitcase from the basement.

It was open. That case hadn’t been unlocked for thirty years, not since his father had died.

Most of the contents had been emptied out but there in the bottom was a bundle wrapped in a black bin liner.

Ben couldn’t breathe, his mouth was dry, he tried to swallow.

His fingers traced the edges of the hard plastic inside. It was a camera. Ben turned to face his son. He stared at the equipment mounted on the tripod. His expression was shrouded in a veil of calm.

‘Is that a new camera?’

‘Not new but … a vintage Hi8. Karine lent it to me.’

‘Any good?’ The colour was draining from Ben’s face. He rooted around in the case, looking for something else.

‘Not really, they don’t make the tapes anymore.’

Ben’s eyes flicked from the Panasonic on the tripod to the tightly wrapped bundle in his hand. 261

‘Dad? What is it?’ Nate looked at all of Ben’s school things strewn out on the bed. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll tidy up.’

‘It’s OK, mate.’ The smile was tight and didn’t connect with his eyes. ‘No harm done, but I need to take these things back downstairs.’ His eyes flicked back to the open case. ‘If that’s all right?’

Nate nodded. Ben turned and carefully placed everything back in the case, registering every item, before locking it and heading out of the room without saying a word.

Nate sat still for a moment, then opened the cassette door on the camera that Karine had lent him.

Inside was the single video tape he’d found in the bottom of the suitcase. 262