Alex
"Thank you," I mumble, feeling very uncomfortable.
Panic rises in a rapid speed as I think through what we just discussed. Am I doing the right thing by letting him back in my life? It has been two months since everything escalated and in those months I knew it was best to be apart, but I also couldn't let him go. I know it was the same for Harry, that's why he's now asking permission to stay in my life because he sees that I'm doing well. But I want to keep doing well, and history has proven that in the end our relationship always turns sour.
"I'm not going to stalk you," Harry says, frowning as he sees my brain working overtime. "All I'm asking is a chance. Maybe be friends."
"Three times a charm, right?"
"I'm hoping it is," he says and there seems to be no doubt for him.
"I'm just a bit scared to let you back in to my life, no matter what form," I admit to him, and I feel proud for telling the truth and letting him in on the marathon my brain is currently making.
"Just think about it, or talk about it with your therapist or Liam. I'm guessing he also plays a large part in your recovery. The way he took care of you after you ended up in the hospital is admirable. I wasn't capable of it."
"He's my best friend. We're there for each other when needed, but I have to say that he hates you."
"I figured as much," Harry says with a shrug. "But look at us, we're able to talk. Maybe if he and I talk he's willing to give me a chance as well."
"Don't get your hopes up," I laugh.
"I guess we'll see. I have to go now though, or I'll miss my train. Brighton is waiting for me."
After a small discussion we decide to just pay half each. Harry has his fund and he has always been the better saver of us too, but I know that money must be tight for him as well after not having a proper job for a while now. As where I don't have any money at all left after this month. It is a scary thought and I'll have to make a decision on that quick. Slowly all my old worries are coming back in to my life, money, work, Harry, and somehow I'm still standing. I guess it is a victory partly because of Doctor Collins and Liam, but I know that the biggest part of it is played by myself. It makes me proud even when there is so much that still needs to be done.
Harry and I walk back to the train station where he'll continue his journey to Brighton so that he can go back to his passion of tattooing and figure out what he wants to do with the money his mother left him. It's a luxury I don't have because I said no to his mother's money. I don't regret it and I know it was the right thing to do, but I do envy him a bit. Which is crazy of course, because the reason he gets to do this is incredible sad. Although Harry seems to do extraordinary well considering his mother didn't die that long ago. When we stop by his train that will leave in a few minutes I decide to ask him.
"Are you really okay after everything? Because I'm not fragile, I can take it is you are sad."
"I know you're not fragile. The very fact that you stood by me on her funeral told me as much. But I'm doing okay," he shrugs. "Better than I had thought. Only two weeks ago I was crying in the middle of the street."
"When?" I wonder, feeling pain rise on his behalf.
"I don't know precisely. It was after they helped her sleep with this IV, and I simply couldn't take it no more. I went out of the house and Abby followed me, and I fought her. I just realized that there was nothing left. My job, you... everything was gone."
"I was never gone," I whisper, but I do feel guilty.
"You were off sleeping with Thomas," he tells me and that completes the guilt for me.
"I'm so sorry," I mumble and he gives me a smile.
"That was a joke. I did that all myself. I deserve to feel bad for a while, and I'm doing much better now. Thanks to you and my sister. If it weren't for you and your kindness I would still be that depressed."
"No one deserves to feel so low, Harry."
"Good thing I didn't feel like that for too long then. Seriously, I'm okay. Stop worrying. Let's not make it a sad goodbye like at the funeral."
"Okay, well," I pause thinking back to our goodbye at that said funeral. He kissed me and I had enjoyed it thinking it would be the last time we'd see each other for a long time if not ever. Little did I know that we'd see each other on this weird day. A day that has been painful for five years, but today feels different. "Thank you."
"For what?" He laughs as he pulls up his duffel bag, looking around me for the clock.
"Inviting me. When you called I doubted, but I'm glad I came."
"Good." He grins, his eyes turning back to me. "Good luck with that whole Rob-thing. Call me if you want, okay?"
I nod, and use an extra second to take him in. The lines between his eyebrows, the crinkles by his eyes, his sun kissed skin, his dark wavy hair and cute ears. His nose that now reminds me of his mother and finally his pink lips that always seem to be in some sort of pout. Without thinking it through, I lean in and surprise him when my lips touch his. The kiss isn't as long as it was the last time, but it is just as intense for me. Because I start it and as I kiss him I know I want to kiss him many more times and it isn't just physical.
Harry breaks our contact first and with my eyes still closed I know he's only a few inches away. Watching my probably hilarious face.
"I have to go," he says and his breath tickles my face. The whistle signalling that the doors will close soon brings me out of my trance and I open my eyes. "I'll see you soon."
There's nothing left to say so I simply watch him adjust his bag again and walk in the train. Not much later the doors close and I keep standing on the platform until his train is long gone. Realizing that thanks to Harry the saddest part of this day is his goodbye and not my father's death. He changed course giving me hope that if even the meaning of this day can change for me, maybe things are finally changing for the better.
For the rest of the day I feel like I'm walking on a cloud. Harry and I talked, and are both willing to slowly let things stay in the past. Maybe move on in the future. It is a victory but not even the biggest of the day. That happens in the evening when I suggest that myself, Liam and Nina go out for food and I suggest my dad's old pub. There we enjoy a meal and I tell Liam about Harry and he doesn't even get mad. I guess in the end he knew it would happen.
My family joins us in the end, Sage heavily pregnant, but still a fun sport when it comes to darts. Everywhere I look I see my father. Of course he's the spitting image of my uncle but he's also on his stool by the bar where he'd sit if he was alone. Or the chair that was his from the table that belongs to my family. During the evening as we all enjoy each other company we don't even leave his chair vacant like we used to do. Not because we forgot about him, but because we all finally seem to accept that he's gone and instead of it crippling me, I only feel power because being gone doesn't mean he isn't in my heart. He's more so than ever because I finally let him in.
Harry was right. I hated him for things that took me a lot of strength to change within myself and my journey is nowhere near over. For the rest of my life I will have to fight to not let the darkness that lives inside of me get a grip of me again. My father never had the help and support I received. I can't hate him for it. Doctor Collins wanted me to write a letter to him, but I don't need to.
When I'm in the bathroom, looking in the same mirror I looked into when I last was here and ended up on the floor scratching and hitting only to not feel the pain, I now let that pain in. My dear father is gone, but I forgive him. Finally.
****
The weekend that follows goes by slowly as I feel nervous the entire time for my meeting with Rob. I slept badly, couldn't concentrate on anything for longer than ten minutes, and barely ate. Liam didn't say a thing about it, but did offer to come with me, but since I know he has to reschedule his work I tell him it's not needed. I don't want him to go to trouble for something that I need to do for myself. So instead of coming with, he waves me goodbye as I take the bus.
It's quite a long journey from London to Bullingdon Prison. I had to request my visit weeks in advance through the internet and I have no clue what Rob thinks of it. If he even knows that it is me who is visiting him. In the worst case scenario he'll not even show up, but then I at least tried and I'll think of it as some sort of adventure. The only time I ever came close to visiting someone in jail was when Harry was arrested for the night and I didn't realize. But I was too angry with him to go inside the police station, and we never talked about what that night was like since soon we were occupied by my father's sickbed.
The last two days Harry didn't reach out to me, but I guess he's busy settling in his new life. I have no clue if he's staying with old friends or if he dived right back in to work. The only thing I know is what his old work looked like because we briefly walked passed it when we were in Brighton for Christmas. We never went inside to greet his old co-workers so I don't know what they were like, but they can't be as awful as Pascal was.
Thinking of Harry makes me want to call him, but I don't want to interrupt. Instead I think about my own future as I make the two hour journey by train.
Nano asked about me, and I declined right away but for the last two days I've thought about the opportunity to have some work again. I'll need to make some money soon because I'm running out of it fast. Also I'd like to pay at least some of the rent or find something else to live. Baby steps, Doctor Collins called them. I can't expect to simply go back to school and learn for a profession out of nowhere. I need to work, save, make a plan and work towards my goal whatever that might be. So instead of calling Harry, I call Nano.
"Hello?" His voice calls out and it still irritates me. It will sure be a test to work for him again.
"Hello Nano, Alex here. I was wondering if you already found someone for Nina's hours."
"Uhm, no, no, I haven't," he says and I can tell by the way he's talking that he's recovering himself. "But Nina told me you don't want them."
"I'm surprised you even thought of me. We didn't exactly part on good terms."
"Nina explained what you've been through. You see, I lost my mother at a young age. I know how though that can be. She also said that you have been in therapy and doing better."
"That's right, and I am looking for work."
"So, do I have to beg?" He complains and it makes me smile.
"Yes, please. I'd like to hear you try."
"God," he mumbles, but then he takes a deep breath and starts off. "I'd like to offer you a position at the shop. You can choose your own schedule and hours. I'll give you a raise that we'll discuss if you agree, and I'll promise to treat you better."
"Didn't know you'd gone soft," I laugh. "But I'll take it. I'll stop by this week."
"Good, I'll see you then," Nano says and he ends the call right after.
Although the work never bothered me and was quite boring, it feels good to know that I have a job again. It will help me because now I know that it is only work, and that having a job at all, even if it is something simple is positive. It doesn't mean that I'm failing at anything. Look at Harry, I always thought he had everything together and then it all went to shit and he continued anyway. He's able to do that because he's doing well on the inside, and I'm as well. So well that there's not one trace of panic as I exit the train station and walk towards the prison.
After ten minutes I find the prison. From the outside it looks like any other building. It could be a public library or a school. If it wasn't for the ground around it that is secured by a rather large fence I'd believe it isn't a prison. The reassuring thought is that it isn't a highly protected one which must mean that even though Rob is a criminal, he isn't a violent one trying to escape.
Inside I'm pretty sure that this isn't a school. I'm searched, need to walk through a metal detector and my purse is stripped from its content. My passport is checked, my appointment double checked and after another security hazard I'm finally let through the receiving hall into the actual meeting area. Behind a glass window I'm told the rules of this meeting while my eyes scan the tables all full with other prisoners and their family or friends. In the back I find Rob who looks actually like the last time I saw him in a police car by Zeno's house only his hair a bit greyer.
"You're only allowed to speak for an hour. We'll alert you when it is time. Any questions?" The security woman asks me and I shake my head. "Fine, off you go," she says opening the gate with a push on a button.
For a moment it feels as if I have stepped in a detective tv-series or something. It's all so real and definitely happening that my mind is trying to make it look like a dream so that it doesn't upset me. I manage to get by his table without tripping over anyone or breaking out a sweat. I'm surprised to see Rob standing up to meet me, extending his hand as he does.
"Hello, nice to see you," he says whilst shaking my hand. "Please, sit down."
"Thank you."
"I ordered some water for you, hope that's okay." Rob offers me the glass and although I shouldn't doubt him, I do for a second. Then I realize we're in a highly protected prison and that there's no way he could have put something in it. After taking a sip Rob seems relieved that he did something right. He looks nervous just like I am.
"I was surprised to see that you wanted to meet me. It has been a couple of years since we last spoke."
"Yes, well I needed some time after she died."
"That's alright," he says with a shrug. "I never expected you to reach out. What made you do that now?"
"I'm in therapy, and they suggested that it might help me to find out more about my mother. She left when I was seven so there is only so little I know of her and I figured you do know a lot more."
Rob shifts in his seat, his eyes looking anywhere but me. Now that I'm here I realize I don't know much about him either. He's younger than my mother and must be in his early forties by now. He's handsome, covered in tattoos and my father said he has his heart in the right place but made mistakes.
"If you don't want to talk about it that's fine. I mean, I realize we don't know each other. But you knew her and my father. I just want to understand things better."
"Yeah, I understand. I remember you when you were that young. I don't think you recall that we met back then."
"We did? When?"
"I came to pick up your mother like I did so many times. I knew her about three months by then. We'd go out, drink, do drugs. But then that night your mother decided that she was going to move out. Your parents had a huge fight while I waited by the front door. You were sat in the kitchen waiting for it to blow over. It didn't. She moved out that night."
"I don't remember being in the kitchen at all. I thought I was in bed."
"For the most part you were. But you came out to drink. I think then you were just too afraid to walk passed them again and waited there."
Something seems to dawn on me, but I still don't remember another person in our house when my parents had their biggest fight ever. All I remember of it is that it is the only time I heard my father yell as loud as he did.
"Well, it doesn't matter really. Like I said, I was young and stupid. I never thought about the consequences. I barely knew she had a child."
"Did she ever speak about me?" I wonder and I wait with baited breath.
"Not much."
"Did she love me?" I ask and I realize that I'm simply going off by the questions on my list. This one is on top.
"She did. I know it must seem like she didn't, but she did."
"She told me she didn't," I tell him and he frowns. "When we met in Palas, she said she didn't love me."
"Well, she always said she didn't love me either. Let's just say that she wasn't known for using that word often."
"How could you stay with her if she didn't?"
"Because I knew she did. Sometimes knowing is enough."
"I guess it will have to be enough for me then, too," I speak and Rob nods. "She did loving things sometimes but I barely remember them. I only remember bad things of her."
"She was a bad woman. I mean, I realize that after years on the inside, but I do believe she loved me, and you. Your father as well. But they were a bomb waiting to go off."
"Why so?"
"He was a nice man, too nice for her, and he was always trying to make her do the right thing while he as well made mistakes. He wasn't exactly a saint. They fought a lot, he'd flirt a lot, piss her off. He wasn't really fond of words like I love you either. She didn't feel good with him. I think your father didn't realize how bad it was until that night. Until he met me. He acknowledge his mistake later in life though. We met up a couple of times after he found out that he was sick."
"You knew he was sick?"
"I did. Didn't you?" He asks and I shake my head.
"No, I found out a week before he died. I guess you're right, he wasn't exactly a talker."
"Well, he talked an awful lot about you though. He was very proud of what you'd become. Sending you Palas was his way of a thank you. He wanted you to meet your mother so that you'd realized that it wasn't your fault that she left."
"I know. He regretted the way it happened later," I tell him.
"I wish you could have met her in a different way, but I guess she just wasn't ready to look back on that part of her life. She has always felt really guilty towards you and your father. When she left with me, it was out of excitement and love, but I'm also aware that I was just easy access to drugs which helped calm her mind. But it didn't help her of course. It simply made everything worse. She became depended on me for a peace of mind, but over the years, the more she used, the worse her problems got."
I feel like writing all this information down. That's how much he's telling me. There was no need to warm him up, he seems almost eager to explain why she was the way she was.
"Was she depressed?"
Rob shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. She was paranoid. Thought I was cheating, or trying to make her get off the drugs. If I ever suggested starting a family, she'd completely lose her shit. The only reason she ever married me was because I threatened to leave her. There were days in which she did nothing else but smoke and lie in bed, then the next she would want to go on holiday or a fancy restaurant. She was all over the place, but I'm not sure if she was depressed, but there was definitely something inside of her that was raging on."
"Did she have a rough childhood or something that made her act that way?"
"She was raised by her mother. You must know her?"
"I know she died almost right after she left us. I don't remember her."
"She was lovely, don't get me wrong, but being the youngest I don't think your mother was raised in the best possible way. She was used to getting her way, and as she grew older and life threw her setbacks, she didn't know how to deal with them."
"I'm sorry for bombarding you with questions about her," I say, thinking of his explanation. It makes sense that she simply was spoiled as a child. That's also why she probably wasn't in contact with her siblings. Jealousy was a big part of her, and if things didn't go her way, she'd act out of control or would simply sob in bed to get attention.
"That's okay," he says. "I understand that you might be curious about her. Just know that her life never got any easier after she left. She felt guilty and that only grew over time. So she ignored the fact that she had a child. She couldn't deal with it."
"Yeah, I knew that much."
"Is there anything else you want to know?"
I think of the list full with questions and realize that I didn't even need to ask them all to understand her better. What I realize the most is that she was very different from me. She lost touch with reality because she became addicted. Drugs she needed to calm the demons in her mind that I also sometimes experience, but I sought help. I know that I'll never turn my back to a child or a loving husband no matter how much is wrong between our marriage. I'd fight to make it work or at least make sure to build a relationship with the child if I would decide to divorce. I know that I'd never deal with things the way my parents did. They never talked, never learned to communicate. It's something I find hard as well, but therapy showed me that it needs to be done. Even this short conversation with Rob that I feared since the moment Doctor Collins suggested is nowhere near as bad as feeling low, and not worthy of love. I rather feel nervous by speaking the truth, than ever feel the way my mother did.
"Were you there when she was buried?" I ask, thinking of the last few questions on my list.
"They let me leave for a day," he says and I can tell that this is a harder subject for him.
"Do you think she thought of me when she died?"
"I don't know. She was found alone. Judging from what they told me it was an accidental overdose. God knows what she was thinking off. After I got arrested she never recovered. Deep down inside I knew it was going to go wrong, but there's nothing I could have done being locked up and all."
"No, I don't think so either. In order to get help, you must want to. She ran away from it for her whole life. Just like my father she accepted the way things were or she would fight and try to change it. Thank you, for telling me this all. It really helps me. Is there something you'd like to know?" I ask and he gives me a small smile.
We talk some more and I tell him in little detail what happened to me this past years. He explains what he's been up since he got locked up, and we manage to a hold a conversation until security comes to tell me that my time is up.
Our goodbye is short, and Rob is ordered to keep his seat while I leave. Getting out of the prison is much easier than getting in and within a minute I'm outside again feeling much lighter than when I stepped in.
My mother and I might share some DNA, but we're not the same people. I used alcohol to numb my thoughts, I'm jealous and have low thoughts about myself, but there are also so many differences.
I'm not afraid to tell the people I love how much they mean to me. I would never leave my family behind to be with a younger, drugs dealer. I'm making something of my life while she never tried. The same goes for my father. He's in my blood, but I'm not him. My life is different and open to so many possibilities. Their problems are no longer mine, and there's only one person I want to tell it too and it isn't Doctor Collins who requested I'd call him right after. It's Harry.