Guilty One (23 page)

18

The Thorntons
refused even to drive Daniel back to Minnie’s. Tricia was sent to collect him at three o’clock on Sunday, even though a long weekend had been planned and Daniel was supposed to stay until the Monday evening.

Daniel watched from the car window as the bungalow belonging to his prospective adoptive parents grew smaller. Val and Jim went inside quickly, closing the door before the car pulled out of the drive.

‘You’re your own worst enemy, Danny,’ said Tricia. ‘This was your chance of a new home. Do you know how ’ard it is to place a twelve-year-old boy? Very ’ard, let me tell you, and that was a
disgraceful
thing to do.’

‘Didn’t like ’em. I wanted back to Minnie’s.’

‘Well, you were only there for the weekend. Couldn’t you have been good for that long?’

‘I just wanted back to the farm …’ Danny was silent for a few moments and then he said, ‘Have you seen me mam?’

Tricia cleared her throat as she turned on to the Carlisle Road. Daniel listened to the sound of the wheels on the wet road. He felt a strange calmness, as after great exertion. It was the shock,
the thrill, the release of being really bad again. The act had left him narcotized. He laid his head back against the seat and felt the lazy, liquid serenity seep into him.

He had won. He had wanted back to her and now he was being taken back. He had expected to be hated and so he had been hateful.

‘Jim’s a nice man. I know he is. You just don’t give anyone a chance.’

‘I hate ’im.’

Tricia sighed. ‘You’re not good with men, are you, Danny? You’ve been getting on so well with Minnie, I thought you’d got over all that.’ Tricia talked as Danny stared out of his window at the fields and occasional trees. ‘I mean, you were even doing well at school … I told Minnie what happened and she’s so upset. I’m upset too, but I can’t say I’m surprised. You’re damn lucky they’re not pressing charges. You carry on like this and you’ll be in borstal before you’re a teenager and God help you then, lad.
God help you then.
Nothing I can do for you then.’

When they arrived, Minnie was standing outside her door with her cardigan pulled around her. The sight of her made Daniel’s spine curl with shame. He kept his eyes to the ground, afraid of her challenging blue. He walked straight past Minnie into the house and carried his bag upstairs. He took comfort from the pale blue walls he had chosen himself, the racing car bedcover which Minnie had bought for him and the window with the view of the yard. Daniel took off his mother’s necklace and placed it in the drawer beside his bed. He was home now and it would be safe. His knife had been taken off him at the Thorntons’ but Daniel did not worry. He would not need it here.

Blitz
came to the bedroom door, head low and panting, tail waving pleasure to see him. As soon as Daniel reached for him, the dog dropped to the floor and presented his stomach. Scratching him, Daniel could hear Tricia and Minnie talking at the foot of the stairs. The smell of the dog and the hushed voices reminded him of his arrival at to Flynn Farm. He felt relieved to smell the place and hear the lilting sound of Minnie’s voice, yet he didn’t dare go downstairs. He was pleased to be back, but the last forty-eight hours had left him uneasy. He wanted to stay upstairs with the dog, but Blitz, sensing his desperation, tired of him and slipped downstairs. Daniel heard Tricia leave and then the sounds of Minnie making dinner. He knew she was waiting for him to go downstairs, but he resisted. He could sense her disappointment waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He slipped under the covers of his bed and lay there, reluctantly remembering.

The first day had gone without incident, although Daniel had felt ill at ease in the big house with its clean surfaces and cream carpets. He had to take his shoes off at the door and every glass had to be rested on a coaster. His bedroom had a double bed and a large television, but the room was too big and dark at night and he didn’t sleep for fear of its strangeness and the shadows it unleashed.

Used to waking up with the cockerel, feeding the animals and collecting the eggs, Daniel woke before the Thorntons and crept downstairs. The house was immaculate. Daniel was hungry and so went into the kitchen, where he found bread and buttered a slice. When he was putting the butter back in the fridge he saw strawberry jam and spread that on to his bread too. It was
daylight, but the clock on the cooker said ten past six. The jam was not as good as Minnie’s, which he had helped her to make, marvelling that it could all happen so quickly: from plant, to pot, to mouth.

He sat in the kitchen for a short while and then carried his plate through to the living room, where he switched on the television and found some cartoons. He was laughing out loud at one of the cartoons when the bread fell from his hand and landed, jam down, on the carpet. He attempted to wipe it with warm water, but it only drove the stain into the fabric. Daniel rested his plate on top of the stain and continued watching.

It was Jim who came down first, about half an hour later, rubbing his eyes, but still with his stretchy smile. Daniel could see from the clock on the video recorder that it was six forty-seven. Jim made a cup of coffee in the kitchen and came through and sat on the couch. Daniel continued to sit with his back to Jim, but he was no longer watching the cartoons; instead he was watching Jim’s pale reflection on the television screen. Jim rubbed his face and yawned and raised his cup to his lip.

‘You’re an early riser, aren’t you?’

Daniel half smiled at him.

‘What time did you get up?’

Daniel shrugged.

‘You’re all dressed and everything. I see you made yourself at home.’

‘I was hungry.’

‘It’s all right. If you’re hungry, you should eat. It’s not a criticism.’

Daniel felt a sudden unease. He felt watched by Jim in a way
that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. He turned back to the television, watching the man in his peripheral vision.

‘You finished with that plate, son?’ said Jim.

The man was standing over him, his hand out for the plate.

‘No,’ said Daniel.

‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘Call you what?’

‘I’m not your son.’

‘Ah,’ said Jim. Daniel glanced up and the smile was stretching his face again. ‘Of course, all right. I get the message. Come on, let me take that.’

‘Leave it, all right?’ Daniel felt his heart beating suddenly.

‘We don’t usually allow food in the living room, food is for the kitchen – but you weren’t to know. Come on …’

‘Leave it, all right?’ Daniel’s mouth was very dry.

‘What is it?’ Jim laughed. ‘I’m just going to take your empty plate.’

Daniel jumped to his feet. He didn’t know when or where his body had learned to be so alert to male anger, but he was now adroit. Although Jim’s voice was even, Daniel could hear its strangled wrath.

He hung his head. The words coming out of the man’s mouth were assaulting him now. They were heavy clods of dirt hurled. He stopped hearing the words themselves, so that Jim’s mouth was a horrible, oscillating hole that leered and gaped.

Daniel couldn’t remember what came next; not in the right sequence. He lay under the duvet and took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of the dog and the farm. Daniel buried his
face and felt the heat of his own breath on his skin. He was almost completely under the covers now.

He was facing up to Jim. Daniel was in his bare feet and he scrunched his toes on the carpet, steeling himself. Jim’s face seemed to loom before him, teeth and nose too big on his face. The man bent down towards Daniel suddenly.

Daniel jumped back and pulled his knife from his jeans pocket. He flicked it open and held it up to the man’s face.

‘Dear God!’ Jim jumped back and so Daniel stepped forward.

‘What’s going on?’ It was Val, in her dressing gown.

‘Get back, leave this to me,’ Jim shouted, so loud that it made Daniel jump.

‘Leave me alone,’ said Daniel, turning with the knife in front of him so that he could back away from Jim, towards the wall.

‘Put that down immediately,’ said Jim.

Daniel watched the startled panic in his eyes. He watched the man’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Daniel smiled, watching the light reflecting off the blade on to Jim’s T-shirt. Jim reached out towards him, trying to grab Daniel’s T-shirt.

‘Watch out!’ Val shrieked.

Daniel stabbed. He cut Jim’s forearm. The man pulled back, holding his arm with his free hand. Daniel watched as a thin line of blood ran through his fingers and on to the carpet. Daniel relaxed for a moment, but Jim turned suddenly and pushed Daniel on to the floor, stepping on his hand and twisting the knife from his grasp.

Every time he watched it in his mind it was different. Now Daniel was not sure what had actually happened. First he
remembered that Jim had raised his hand and Daniel anticipated a strike. Then that seemed wrong; Jim had just turned slightly and Daniel saw an opportunity.

Daniel screamed when he was pinned to the floor. He kicked and lunged at Jim every time he managed to pull a leg or arm free. Val took hold of Jim and the pair of them left Daniel lying on the floor in the living room, closing the door behind them. Daniel kicked and punched at the door, his lower teeth biting into his upper lip. He smashed all the ornaments on the mantelpiece and then sat down by the side of a sofa, his knees tucked into his chest, rubbing the letter of his mother’s name.

The heat on his face was too much and so Daniel sat up and pushed back the covers. The day seemed fresh and good, like the milk under the cream, yet Daniel felt bad. The badness was heavy inside him. He could retch but he would never retch it up. The badness was there inside him and there it would stay.

He rolled on to his back. He could smell the chicken that Minnie was cooking. The smell of the bird roasting turned his stomach. He lay, staring at the ceiling, watching the scenes flicker silently on the back of his forehead.

He heard his stomach rumbling. He heard the cackle of the
^fryer
as Minnie lowered wet fingers of potato into the fat. He could feel his heart beating hard, as if it might break through his chest, although he was lying completely still. Then he heard Minnie on the stairs, heavy footsteps and the wooden handrail straining against her weight. The sighs as she climbed.

*

Minnie
sat down on the bed, and pulled back the covers to reveal his face. Daniel felt the exposure and closed his eyes. He felt the warm tickle of her fingers on his forehead.

‘What’re you thinkin’, Danny?’ she whispered.

‘What I done.’

‘Pardon?’

‘M’thinkin’ ’bout what I done.’

‘Why
did
you do that, can you remember?’

Daniel shook his head on the pillow.

‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, so I don’t. There’s no sin in not liking someone – there’s loads of people I don’t care for, but you just can’t
stab
people. Try and think about why you would want to do something like that.’

Daniel turned on his side. He turned towards her, his hands under his chin and his knees up.

‘Why?’ Minnie whispered. He felt her fingers comb through his hair.

‘ ’Cause I’m bad,’ he murmured, but she didn’t hear him.

She leaned in close, her hand heavy on his head now. ‘What, love?’

‘ ’Cause I’m bad.’

She pulled him up by his elbow and he swung his legs round to sit beside her. She took his chin in her two fingers. He looked at her eyes and they were twinkling, like the first day he met her. ‘You-are-not-bad,’ she said. He felt the pinch of her fingers on his chin. ‘You are a lovely boy, and I am a lucky woman to know you.’

He couldn’t help it, but tried to stop the tears.

He could smell the dog and the grass outside from her cardigan. The day was a terrible weight on him suddenly and he
leaned against her, letting his cheek rest on her shoulder. She squeezed him – put two arms around him and squeezed the badness out.

‘… But you can’t hurt people, Danny,
or my little animals
for that matter …’

He pulled away at those words. Still shamed.

‘I know people have hurt you, in lots of different ways, and I can understand you wanting to hurt back, but let me tell you … that road’s only for
eejits.
I should know. There’s
so
much more you can be.’

Daniel sniffed and wiped his eyes and his nose with his sleeve.

‘Did you have to cut him? You could have talked to him, or asked him to take you back if you had to. You didn’t
need
to cut him.’

Daniel nodded, chin so close to his chest that she was not sure whether or not she saw him agree.

‘Why did you do it? Did you think he was going to hit you?’

‘Maybe … I dunno … no.’ He shook his head, looking at her. Her eyes were turned down at the corners and there was a deep line between her eyebrows.

‘Why then?’

He took a deep breath. He looked at his feet. His socks were hanging off. He twirled his foot and watched the sock dance for a moment.

‘I want to stay here,’ he said, still watching his sock.

There was a pause. He watched her hands. They were loosely clasped. He was frightened to look at her eyes.

‘You mean you did it so that they wouldn’t want to adopt you?’ she said finally. Her voice was quiet. He heard no criticism. It was as if she only wanted to understand.

He
had a pain at the back of his throat. He remembered Tricia’s words after he had said goodbye to his mother for the last time:

If nobody else wants me, do I get to stay with her?

No, love. She’s a foster parent. There’ll be another little boy or girl needing her.

‘I want to stay here.’ It was all he could say. He made fists with his hands and waited for her to speak. It seemed like the longest time.

‘Would you like
me
to adopt you? If you really want to stay, I’d like nothing better. I’d adopt you in a heartbeat if they let me. Matter of fact, I adopted you the minute I set eyes on you. Do you want to stay? I’ll try for us. I can’t promise but I’ll try.’