The Art of Not Breathing (28 page)

“Danny, what does she mean?” Mick says. “Tay’s dad found your bike in his garage. When did you follow me?”

Danny crumples and then lets it all out.

“Tay didn’t steal my bike,” Danny says. “I smashed it up after I followed you to the Point and saw you with that woman. I blackmailed Tay. I told him that he had to take the blame for stealing it or I’d tell everyone what he did.”

“Who’s Tay?” my dad asks. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“What did Tay do?” Mick asks, his face pale, his jaw quivering.

Danny splutters. “Tay didn’t do anything,” he says. “He was trying to help.”

“You got Tay sent away!” I yell. Mick holds me back from launching into Danny. “I knew he was protecting you. We could have found out what happened if it wasn’t for you and your lies. You’re scum, and I hope you rot in hell.”

My father explodes. “Will someone please tell me what happened?”

He stands completely still with his hand over his mouth while Danny talks. When Danny gets to the bit about Dillon running off alone, my dad’s whole body shudders.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone what actually happened?” Mick asks.

“Because I was a stupid kid,” he says. “I didn’t want you to know that I’d followed you. I thought you’d stop me coming to stay if you found out. Because I felt guilty about breaking my new bike when I knew it was expensive. Because I didn’t want to believe any of it. The little boy. You and that woman.”

A gust of wind blows over us, and I long to get inside and dry. I want to lie down and never get up. In the distance there’s a siren. We all hear it.

“Don’t call the police, Elsie. They were just kids,” Mick says.

But I already know that I’m not going to. Tay and Danny are not to blame—I’m the reason Eddie died. Blood rushes to my head, and I stagger into my dad as I faint.

3

IT’S DARK OUTSIDE WHEN I WAKE UP. A LAMP GLOWS IN THE
corner of the room, and the clock on the TV tells me it’s ten p.m. I have no idea what day it is or how long it’s been since I went to find Eddie. I’m lying on the sofa covered with my own duvet and head propped up awkwardly on about four of the sofa cushions. My mouth is dry and my throat is on fire. When I breathe, it hurts. I can’t feel my legs. I reach down to check my legs are there. They’re cold to the touch.

“Hello?” I cry hoarsely.

My father enters the living room wearing his brown woolen sweater. I get a waft of his smoky smell.

“Hey, kid,” he says softly, and it makes me want to cry. “How are you feeling?”

He walks over and perches on the sofa arm above my head. He doesn’t touch me, but this is the closest we’ve been in a long, long time.

“Cold,” I say. “Have you spoken to Mum?”

“She knows I’m here with you. I haven’t told her what happened yet. She’s been very worried.”

I wait for him to start yelling, but he continues to whisper.

“Your brother is in a bad way.”

“I know.” I turn my head to the back of the sofa. The fibers smell musty.

“Want some dinner? I made
pasta.”

The thought of food in my mouth makes me heave. I cough and sound like an old man.

My father reaches out and touches my forehead.

“You’re hot,” he says.

“I feel cold.”

“I’ll get you another blanket,” he says, but he doesn’t move. “That boy came by. He wanted to see if you were okay.”

My stomach leaps. Tay. The boy who lied to me. The boy who left my brother in the water. I feel myself blush as I remember our naked bodies in the boathouse. I hate him for still being able to make me long for him.

“What did you say?”

“I thanked him for saving your life last night.”

He means Danny. The one who ruined all my plans. The one who hid Eddie’s T-shirt for five years inside a damp, moldy cave.

“I didn’t want to be saved,” I say quietly.

My father snaps. “That’s enough, Elsie. Have you any idea what it was like for me to have that man turn up on my doorstep with his son and tell me that they’d just saved you from drowning? What were you even doing in the water in the middle of the night?”

“I was trying to find Eddie.”

“Damn it, Elsie. Don’t you think it’s enough that we’ve already lost Eddie?”

“I just wanted to see where he went!”

“He’s not down there! He’s not anywhere.” My father leans on the windowsill and presses his head into the glass. “He’s gone.”

“If he’s gone, then so am I.”

“No. You’re here.”

“Am I? Really? I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

My father leaves the room. I wonder if I really meant what I said about not wanting to be saved. The plan was to escape, to run away and never be found. But I only made my decision not to come back up while I was down there. The depth may have messed with my mind.

When I wake up again, I’m in my own bed. I search for Jasper and remember that he’s gone. The phone rings, and I hear the deep rumble of my father’s voice. If I had the energy, I would drag myself to the phone in the hall and listen. Pain sears all the way down my throat when I swallow.

My father knocks on my door and waits. I don’t move. Eventually he peers in.

“Can I come in?”

He has changed and had a shower.

He comes in and places a cup of tea by my bed and rubs his face. He tells me I’ve been out of it for three days, that a doctor came by and gave me antibiotics for a lung infection.

“Was that Mum on the phone? Is Dillon okay?”

My father looks tortured.

“They’ve committed him.”

“So they’re making him eat?”

My father rubs his face again. “I don’t know what they’re doing to him. They’ve locked him up. They’ve locked up my boy.”

“Can we see him?”

“Yes. Come on—get dressed.” He sits me on the bed and opens my wardrobe. “This?” He holds out a navy blue sweater. I take it and slip it over my head. It used to be tight and now it hangs off me. I must be really sick.

“Do you still wish it was me who died instead of Eddie?”

My father freezes and slowly moves closer to me.

“What? Of course not. Why on earth do you think that?” He holds my head in both hands, so I can’t move.

“But I heard you. The day after he went missing, in the bedroom, you said, ‘Why did it have to be him?’”

Dad sobs into my hair. “No, sweetheart. I wasn’t talking about Eddie.”

“Who, then?”

But I realize I already know.

“Mick? You saw them together, didn’t you? On the Point that day.”

My father’s eyes widen.

“I’ve worked it all out,” I say. “You saw her with someone and you went after her, but she drove off. And then you found her coat on the beach when you were looking for Eddie.”

He nods gravely. “Mick was your Mum’s boyfriend before I came along. She dumped him for me, but then somewhere along the line, I think she realized her mistake. Something happened again between them when you and Eddie were about nine or ten—she nearly left me, but I begged her to stay. She promised she’d never see him again. I guess she could never keep that promise, and I punished her for it. I should have let her go.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I say.

“Don’t be sorry. I walked away from you kids. And I have to live with that.” He hangs his head, and his whole body slumps. We are united in our guilt. It was never me he hated—it was himself.

4

I’M ALLOWED TO SEE DILLON FOR A FEW MINUTES ON MY OWN FIRST,
at his request. He’s propped up in bed doing a crossword puzzle. There are no tubes attached to him. No vanilla. He’s still scrawny as a rake, though.

He sits upright when he sees me and thrusts his arms out.

“I hear you went for a swim,” he says, hugging me tight. I feel like we connect, and for the first time since my “swim” I’m glad to be alive. All the anger I felt toward him a few days ago has dissipated. Seeing him here, I already know that the secrets have ruined him, too.

“Diving, actually,” I tell him.

“Jesus, Elsie. I didn’t know it could be so dangerous.”

He shuffles up so I can sit next to him.

“Are you eating, Dilbil? No more tubes?”

“A bit. I’m on half portions. They said they’d keep me in this locked wing of the hospital if I didn’t eat. I don’t want to be here.”

His blues eyes seem too large for his face. I can’t help but stare into them, like I’m still looking for answers.

“Are you okay, though?” he asks.

“Bit of an infection. I had a blackout and swallowed some water, but I’m okay.”

Dillon leans in suddenly and lowers his voice.

“Look, we’ve only got a few minutes before Mum and Dad come in for ‘family’ therapy. Did you find the T-shirt?”

I nod. I haven’t got the energy to explain everything that’s happened over the last few days.

“I found it. Danny had hidden it. God, you don’t even know who Danny is, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“He’s Tay’s cousin. He was down on the Point that night too. He saw everything. Listen, Tay told me what happened. Everyone knows now, and it wasn’t your fault.”

Dillon starts to cry. I feel myself float up again, and then I float down and take control.

“Why didn’t you go and get help? Why didn’t you tell anyone what happened?” I whisper. I still don’t understand how three people could keep quiet for so long.

Dillon wipes tears from his eyes.

“For ages, I thought I imagined the whole thing or that it was a dream. Then I started to have really vivid nightmares, and when I finally realized that it might have been real, I thought it was too late. I knew he was gone, and I didn’t want Mum or Dad to know that I found him but didn’t pull him out. I was so ashamed. I thought it would destroy our family. And my blood was on Eddie’s T-shirt.”

“What? Why?”

“I hit my head on a rock when I was looking for Eddie. Tay tried to help by pressing Eddie’s T-shirt on it. It’s a bit hazy—I think I might have had a concussion.”

I picture Tay trying to help Dillon. It doesn’t fit with the image of Tay letting Eddie go back into the water, and the relief that he felt after.

I tell Dillon again that none of this was his fault.

“Why did you let me fall for Tay?” I say. “You knew all along.”

“You falling for him had nothing to do with me. Even when I nearly broke his nose, you still went back to him.”

I nod, defeated. “I should have worked it out,” I say.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dillon replies, taking my hand. “The truth is out. Now we deal with it.”

I don’t yet tell him that Eddie would never have gone if it wasn’t for me.

“I gave Eddie his T-shirt back,” I say softly.

We hear footsteps coming down the corridor.

“Everything will be okay, Dil. Make me one promise?”

“What?”

“Just eat.”

Dillon places a scrawny hand on his stomach. “I’ll try. And you promise me that you’ll breathe.”

“I’ll try,” I say.

5

FAMILY THERAPY DOESN’T HAVE TO INVOLVE THE WHOLE FAMILY.
It doesn’t even have to involve Dillon. He has sessions with different people once a week. I have therapy with my parents. Sometimes with Dillon, sometimes without.

We talk about blame and secrets, and we talk about truth. Sometimes my laryngitis comes back and I say nothing at all, and other times I scream or walk out. Eventually, everyone tells their story.

Everyone saw Mum and Mick together that day. Dad, Dillon, Tay, Danny.

Mum tells us over and over again that she only went to the Point the day Eddie drowned to end it with Mick. I make the brave move to tell her that I saw her in the Black Fin with Mick the day I went to find Eddie.

“I was so lonely,” she says. “I was scared I was losing you all. I just went for some company.”

“Did anything happen?” my dad asks.

“They kissed,” I say.

“Just once,” Mum says. “It was a goodbye kiss. He was so kind. He told me he’d been keeping an eye on you, Elsie. To make sure you stayed safe. I promise you nothing had been going on. It was just a couple of times before Eddie died, and nothing since. I swear.”

I guess she doesn’t know that Dad told me about when she nearly left us. For some reason I believe her when she says she was ending it that day. I don’t know what this means for her and Dad now. Maybe they’ll work it out.