Forty-One Years Ago The phone rings and Al stares at it listlessly. It could be the most uninteresting thing in the world.
Relentlessly, it rings, the sound echoing from the walls of the shabby apartment.
Taking a long breath, he stands, moving to the phone. He moves slowly, the clothes hanging from him.
âAl?â
âEve?â He comes alive. âEve? Oh, thank God. At lastâ¦.â
Her voice is flat. âAl, Iâve not called to have a conversation with you. Iâve called about Shelley. This isnât working. I canât cope with it anymore. She misses you and the boys and her friends too much. She wants to come back to youâ¦.â
âOf course she can come back. Eveâ¦. Are you going to.â¦?â
âNoâ¦. Will you take her?â
*****
âWeâll make it work, Dad. Donât worry.â David claps his father on the shoulder, looking nervous but determined. âStephen and I both want her here. Weâll do everything we can to helpâ¦.â He turns to his brother. ââ¦. Wonât we?â
Stephen nods decisively, a solid, comforting presence. âAbsolutely. Between us, weâll manage.â
Alâs voice wavers. âShe thinks sheâll be coming homeâ¦.â
âWeâll make it home for her. Weâre here. Thatâs what matters.â
*****
âDaddy!â A streak of red hair and freckles runs up the steps to the main door of the ugly brick tenement and throws herself into her fatherâs arms. His face is lined, turned down at the mouth, but he breaks into a smile as his little daughter wriggles into his embrace. âDaddy, I missed you so much.â
âI missed you too. Princess.â He looks down to where the taxi is waiting, Eve standing beside it, clutching a worn purse.
He passes the little girl to her brothers, standing just inside the hallway. âHere, say hello to Stevie and Davey while I talk to Mummy.â Stephen takes her in his arms, looks to his mother, then, his face setting, turns away.
David watches his father descend to the street, moving carefully, holding the rail to avoid slipping on the worn stone steps where they dip under the tread of a thousand pairs of feet. His motherâs eyes rise to him, but she doesnât quite meet his gaze.
âDavey! Davey. Wanna hugâ¦.â
He turns away, bending to pick up his little sister and something like relief crosses Eveâs face.
Walking with a stoop, Al makes his way to the woman who stands, stony-faced, watching him from beside the taxi its motor still running.
âEve, you donât have to go.â
She doesnât even seem to hear the words. âIâm staying at the motel for a few days, to make sure she settles in. After that, Iâm going.â
âYouâll leave an address of course. Iâll bring her to see youâ¦. Weekends, holidays, whatever you want.â
âNo. Youâre not listening. Iâm going.â
âYouâre leaving?â His mouth slackens. âYouâre leaving all of us? Youâre leaving Shelley? I thought youâdâ¦. be staying in the area.⦠or somethingâ¦.â
âI asked her if she wanted to come.â Eveâs face twists. âShe didnât want to. She wanted to be here with you and the boys.â Her voice is weary. âEveryoneâs entitled to their own choices, Al. Iâve put up with you and your mad schemes for too many years. The age I am now, if I donât make a life of my own now, Iâll never be able to.â
Slumping, he rubs at an eye. âWhereâ¦. where are you going?â
âAustralia.â He straightens up and beyond him, Stephen turns to glare over his brotherâs shoulder. âIâm staying with Andrew and his wife while I get settled in. Don says he knows someone who can give me some work while they sort out my residency.â
âAustraliaâ¦. Itâs so farâ¦.â
She shrugs. âYou have this half of the family. Iâll take my joy with our other sonsâ¦.â
A shout from inside the taxi cab; âHey, Lady. You coming or what?â
She twists back, her voice sharp. âIâm coming. Give me a minute.â
âItâs your call, but this is on the clock.â
Eve looks at where David is holding Shelley, bouncing her up and down in his arms, squealing. âIâll go now.â
âArenât you going to give her a kiss? Say goodbye?â
Eve looks again. Shrugs again. âBest not.â She turns and gets into the cab, staring ahead. The engines revs and it drives away.
Al slumpsâ¦.
The opposite of love isnât hateâ¦.
â¦. Itâs indifference.
âDo it again! Do it again!â Shrieking and laughing, Shelley is hanging on her hands around Davidâs neck.
Al makes his way back to his chattering, smiling daughter and her brothers. âLetâs go in shall we.â
Itâs a long climb. The elevator doesnât work and the single light-bulb which illuminates the final flight flickers on and off irregularly. David is breathing heavily as they reach the door of their loft apartment.
Inside, all is clean and tidy, everything well-kept and in its place, but the furniture provided by the landlord is old and tired, the carpets are worn and the windows face away from the sun. From the apartment below, the smell of boiling cabbage rises.
Shelley, still cradled in Davidâs arms looks around. âWhy are we here? When are we going home?â
*****
David, breathless from running up five flights of stairs, bursts into the lounge. âHey, Stephen, Dad, good news. Iâve got a raise.â
Stephen looks up from where he sits under a grey skylight, carefully writing out a label, similar to half a dozen other labels already glued to a sheet of card bearing a double rank of beetles. The insects catch the light in glittering emerald and cobalt except for the spark of silver from the end of the pin spearing each one in its place. He looks up with a smile. âCongratulations, Bro. What are you going to spend it on?â
David tilts his head to his father, but Al just stares back vacantly. He lowers his voice, perching on the end of Stephenâs table. His brother looks up irritably as Davidâs shadow casts over his work area.
âThereâs a house coming up for rent. One of the guys at work told me about it. He was going to go through an agent, but if we rented it direct from him, paid him cash, we can get a much better price. It needs work, but itâs got extra bedrooms and a yard for Shelley to play and itâs in a much better area.
She could go to that school on Southside.â
Stephen lifts his chin. âSounds too good to miss. When do we go see it?â
âRight now. Get your car keys.â David snags a leather jacket from the back of the door, tossing it across to Stephen who snatches it out of the air.
*****
âItâs perfect.â Stephen revolves, looking around at the overgrown lawn and tangled shrubs. A childâs swing stands in one corner, the seat dangling by one chain. âOr at least as perfect as weâre going to get at anything like the price.â
âThatâs what I thought. We can fix it up between us. Itâs close to the hospital for Dad. And at least Shelley gets a proper home.â He eyes his brother. âItâll need both of us to afford it.â
Stephen shrugs. âYou planning on going anywhere the next few years?â
David clicks his tongue. âYouâre good with it then?â
âYup. Letâs go for it.â