Three Letters

‘Thanks, Dad.’ Tom was deeply moved by his father’s support. ‘I promise you, Dad, I haven’t taken this step lightly. For a long time now, I’ve tried to keep the marriage together, mainly for Casey’s sake – you’ve no idea how I’ve tried – but she doesn’t love us … not me, and certainly not the boy.’

In that moment, he believed he was the one who had failed, and that things could only get worse. It broke his heart to realise that, out of all this chaos, the person who would be hurt most was young Casey.

As Tom hung his head and choked back the tears, his father held him close. ‘It’ll be all right, son,’ he said. ‘Whatever it is, we’ll face it together, me and you … and our precious boy.’

Tom gave no answer. Instead he kept his head buried in his father’s shoulders until his sobs began to subside.

The old man also had tears in his eyes. ‘Hey, come on now, lad. Don’t let the boy see you like this. Best get to your bed, eh? Right now, your mind is all over the place. In the morning, we’ll all be thinking clearly, then we’ll talk it through, and deal with it.’

Holding Tom at arm’s length, he was relieved when Tom smiled back at him. ‘That’s better, son. So, is my plan a good ’un, d’you think?’

‘Yeah, Dad. As good as any I’ve heard.’

When his father seemed relieved, Tom regretted not being able to tell him about the other matter that haunted him. For some time now, Tom had been on the brink of confiding in that dear man, but he could not bring himself to burden him with such crippling news, even though he knew his father would move Heaven and Earth to bring him a measure of peace.

So now, as he thanked his father for accommodating him and Casey, Tom managed a smile; though it was a shallow effort.

Tom was well versed in putting on a brave face, so the old man had no idea that his son was carrying a much heavier burden than he was yet ready to reveal.

Sometimes in life, bad things happened and there was no real explanation as to why. All Tom knew was that these past weeks had been almost unbearable. There was no way for him to ease his mind, and no way he could share the load. So, he carried the burden alone; praying that somehow, his instincts might lead him to do the right thing, for everyone; especially his son.

Somewhere deep inside himself, Tom wanted to believe that Ruth did love the boy, and yet her every word, look and action showed only hatred. Casey felt her rejection of him, and in turn he began to lose both respect and love for his mother. It was a difficult situation, which over the years, had widened the rift between Tom and his wife, and made him love his son even more.

His thoughts now turned to his father. The truth was that however the darling old man might want to ‘work out’ his son’s problems, there was no way that could ever happen. What was done was already done, and there could be no turning back.

In her seemingly cruel way, Fate had intervened.

The dice were thrown and there were no winners.

‘I reckon you’d best get the boy to bed, afore he falls asleep on the kitchen floor.’ Tom was jolted out of his thoughts by his father’s timely reminder.

‘I’ll do that right now,’ Tom answered. ‘Mind you, I don’t suppose he’d care much if we left him there till morning.’

‘Well, we’re not having that. So, go on, you put your son to bed, and meantime I’ll get us a drop o’ summat good to warm the cockles.’ Reaching out, he patted Tom on the arm. ‘How does that sound, eh?’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Tom looked into those kindly blue eyes and for one precious moment he felt incredibly safe; even strong enough to take on the world all by himself. ‘I can never thank you enough, Dad, for taking us in like this.’

‘Oh, give over. You and me, we look after each other. Always have, always will.’ He gave Tom a friendly push. ‘Now then, be off and get the lad to his bed.’

As Tom hurried towards the kitchen, Bob called after him, ‘You needn’t worry if you didn’t have time to pack a bag for the lad. Casey allus keeps a spare pair o’ jamas here. And I’ve enough shirts upstairs to open a shop. Find one that doesn’t altogether drown him, and he’ll come to no harm. Now then! Don’t forget to fetch him in ’ere, so’s he can say good night to his old granddad.’

Tom found Casey on the kitchen floor, with the comic spread out in front of him, but he wasn’t reading it. Instead, he was lying flat, with his arms stretched out, and his head resting on his arms. ‘It’s time for bed, son.’ Tom stooped down beside him. ‘Granddad Bob needs you to say good night.’

Big, soulful eyes looked up at Tom. ‘Did Granddad Bob say we can stay here then?’ His voice was suspiciously shaky, and from the smudges round his eyes, Tom suspected he’d been crying.

‘We can stay here as long as we want, that’s what he said.’

‘Can’t I stay up a bit longer?’

‘No, son. You’ve had a rough time of it. You need to get your sleep. You look shattered, and besides, me and Granddad Bob need to talk … grown-up stuff, if you know what I mean?’

‘About that man?’

‘About all sorts of things.’ Tom wisely skirted the reference to ‘that man’.

‘Dad?’

‘Yes.’ Taking the boy by his arms, Tom drew him up. ‘What is it, son?’

‘I don’t think I can go to sleep.’

‘Oh, and why’s that?’ Tom needed to satisfy himself that, tonight of all nights, his son should sleep well and be safe from harm.

One thing was certain: there would be no sleep for Tom himself. Not with his mind in such turmoil. He needed space and quiet in order to think things through. He had to be sure he was doing the right thing for everyone, and not just for himself. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, he had made an agonising decision, which was bound to cause further pain and regrets for those he loved.

To his surprise, he found himself counting Ruth in that group. He knew she could be unbelievably cruel, and he deeply regretted the shame she had brought to their marriage. Moreover, he had seen at first hand her uncontrollable dislike for the boy. And yet, for some reason, Tom was surprised to find that he still had feelings for her.

Angry and confused, he thrust away his thoughts and concentrated on Casey. ‘Right then, son, let’s have you. First, you can say good night to your granddad, then it’s off up them stairs.’

‘OK.’ Without further ado, the boy replaced the biscuit barrel to the shelf, then he folded his comic and tucked it under his arm, before giving a long, lazy yawn. ‘Did Granddad really say we can stay here?’

‘If we want to, yes.’

‘Well, I want to, ’cause I never want to go back home.’

‘All right, son, but for now, I need you to put it all out of your mind and get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day, isn’t that so?’ He thought it surprising that, even after all the turmoil and troubles, the boy still referred to that unhappy dwelling on Henry Street as ‘home’.

Granddad Bob held Casey a moment longer than he might normally have done. ‘You’ve had a bit of a rough time,’ he said, ‘but it’s all behind you now, so put it out of your mind, lad. And while you’re here, you and your dad must treat this place as your own home. D’you understand?’

‘Thank you.’ The boy hugged him. ‘I love you, Granddad Bob.’

‘Mek sure you do, or you’ll get no more ginger biscuits.’ He gave a little wink. ‘Right?’

‘Right!’

Giggling, Casey ran across to his father. ‘Granddad Bob is really funny.’

Tom laughed. ‘Until you leave the bathroom in a mess, then you’ll find out differently.’

‘I don’t leave the bathroom in a mess.’

‘Ah, well, that’s a good job then, isn’t it?’

As the two of them went up the stairs, chatting and laughing, the old man remained deep in thought.

The boy’s overheard remark about ‘that man’ had only confirmed his suspicions about Ruth’s continuing affairs.

Yet Bob wondered whether that was just one reason for Tom’s distress. He couldn’t help but feel that Tom was keeping something back. Something he was not yet ready to share. What else besides his marriage had gone wrong?