Keep It in the Family

by John Marrs

Such a violation of the rules could place me inside the room next time.

No one under this roof believes in compassion. Empathy is an alien emotion here.

And me. I remember every one of them. Because I am the bait that lures them here.

This place could be good for us, I tell myself. It could be just what we need. My positivity lasts for as long as the thought does. And then I’m back to feeling nauseous again.

‘Look, I can’t say hand on heart that this is going to work out for us. It might be a complete disaster. But we can only give it our best shot and keep our fingers crossed.’ ‘Funny, that’s what I was going to say in my wedding vows,’ she jokes.

The distance between father and son began the day he arrived in our world, and I admit I’m partly at fault for that.

For all her faults, I could never be without this woman. She came into my life at a time when I needed someone to be on my side, and she has never left. I would die for her, without hesitation. In fact, if it wasn’t for her, I would probably be dead already.

I know that I wear a different, tougher skin now to the one I was born into, but scratch beneath the surface and below I am that same, frightened child.

Even though I haven’t set foot under that roof for decades, I am forever part of its fabric. I’m the mortar that binds the bricks together, the pipes linking each tap, the wooden beams that hold up the roof. I have never truly been able to escape it. I am it and it is me.

To some, I’m a saviour, but to others, I’m a monster. I know what my work has been about, all the souls I’ve saved from torment.

As you’d expect, with total shock. It’s worse than any of us could have imagined.

I’m well practised at hiding things from her, but she’s usually pretty vocal if something’s pissing her off.

show me a mother who doesn’t want to spend time with her son and I’ll show you someone who hasn’t raised him properly.

The screen reveals it’s a message from Debbie that simply reads Be strong, followed by a heart emoji. I text back thanking her.

I thought Debbie’s behaviour to be extreme, but this is how mothers are supposed to be, protective of their brood even way into adulthood. They fight your corner.

Debbie is right when she says Sonny is a miracle baby and lucky to be alive considering how he came into the world.

I’m just grateful I can trust Debbie to help me.

I am not like them yet I am them.

‘Why do you strangle them?’ This is just blurted, out of nowhere. ‘You’ve never told me.’

I act on it, I weigh up the pros and cons. In the end, I can’t help thinking that in helping her, might she be able to help me?

And she doesn’t know how much I lie to her or who I’m with now. I intend to keep it this way.

takes a lot of forward thinking to be me.

One boy, Martin Hamilton, jumps out from my past and into the present so suddenly and with such clarity that it’s as if he is here in the room with us. He remains long enough for me to recall the day he tore our family apart. I shake my head and he vanishes like a fine mist.

‘That little boy looks like my father-in-law,’ I say. ‘Which one?’ Jasmine asks and I point to a child with a port-wine stain on his forehead and eyelid. ‘Oh, you know Davey Hunter?’

But I’ve grown to realise that when I don’t have blood on my hands, they are uncomfortably dry.

He knows much more than he is letting on.

Maybe that’s why she’s not the only girl in my life: subconsciously I keep a spare as I don’t want to be left on my own.

‘So while I was in a fertility clinic having my eggs removed, while I was jabbing daily hormone injections deep into my body, making me feel constantly sick, while my moods were up and down like a yoyo, all for us to have a family, you’d already started one with somebody else?’

I’m temporarily silenced. I repeat it to myself. We won’t leave you behind. She said it with such conviction that I believe her. Even though she doesn’t know the first thing about me, she wants to help me.

There are forty in total. The ones towards the end are less dusty, suggesting they’re more recent. I should get out of here but I have to see this through. I reach out to grab a suitcase and pull it to the floor. It’s heavy and, as the latches pop open, I prepare myself for what I’m about to witness. ‘I don’t think you should do that,’ comes a voice from behind me.

All I want is for him to be able to enjoy his innocence for as long as possible, and not have his childhood corrupted. I don’t want him to grow up like I did.

Well, transparency within reason. I can’t let her see everything, can

But if he hurts either of them, I’ll make sure he only does it once.

Then, a week ago, I filled a second case with Mia’s friend Lorna Holmes.