Page 67 of Crying in the Rain
“Mum! You frightened the life out of me.”
Her eyebrows rose, unimpressed, but as she gave him a once-over, her expression softened, no judgement, only warmth and love. She opened her arms, and he readily went into them.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry,” he said over and again, incapable of articulating any of the million things he was sorry for.
“Shh. It’s all right, sweetheart. Mum’s here now.”
Incredible how that childhood truth still held. From grazed knees to broken hearts, his mum had fixed everything, protected him from mean big sisters, the bully next door, even his dad, who had been a decent, laid-back sort of bloke but hadn’t always been supportive of Ade’s choice to study ‘arty-farty subjects’. His mum soon set him right. But as fierce as she was, she had a heart condition, and Ade’s fear that the stress would kill her was real, which was why he’d put off seeing her. That and his shame for remaining in a situation any sensible person would’ve ditched at the first opportunity.
She held him for a long time, while he sobbed and sniffed, on the one hand wishing he could stop crying, on the other knowing the second he did she’d start asking questions. He was almost right: she sent him off to make coffee first.
Ade returned with the two mugs and sat in the chair, both to keep his distance and for the change of scenery. He’d spent far too much time curled up on that sofa.
“Has he gone, love?” his mum asked. Ade nodded.
“Yes. For good.” The tears welled again, and he picked at a stray thread in an attempt to thwart them. It was holding a button on his pyjama top and fell off into his hand. His mum laughed,her laughter quickly turning to tears, which set Ade off again. He moved back to the sofa, his arms around her now.
“Thank God,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”
“Why? You told me, and I didn’t listen. After Dad—”
“It doesn’t matter now.” She turned and tilted her head back to look at him as she smoothed his messy but hopefully not greasy hair. It hadn’t seen product in days and badly needed cutting. “I’d say no harm done, but…I can’t stand thinking of all he’s put you through.”
Ade shrugged glibly. “I’ll heal.” It was better she didn’t know the finer details, but there was no getting out of telling her about the MG. Just gearing up to saying the words had him cowering in anticipation of violent repercussions, but of course, there were none. She didn’t even raise her voice, though she was clearly upset.
“I’m sorry,” he said uselessly.
“As am I, sweetheart. I know how much that car means to you. But in the end, it’s just a thing, and you still have all the lovely memories with your dad, so you can let it go.”
*
Fergus chose that afternoon to break the non-contact. He called Ade’s mobile phone; Ade hung up. He called again; Ade hung up again. After a short delay, Julia’s house phone rang. Ade met his mother’s steely gaze.
“Did you tell him you were here?” she asked.
Ade shook his head. “No, but he knows I came here last time.”
“Right,” she said. “If he calls again, I’ll deal with him.”
And call he did.
“Adrian wants nothing to do with you.”
“He’s a grown man. Surely, he can make up his own mind.”
“Is there something wrong with your hearing?”
“Look, I don’t want to fall out with you, Rita, so if you wouldn’t mind just—”
“Right. You listen to me, Fergus. If you come anywhere near my son again, I will go to the police and tell them exactly what you’ve done. Do you understand?” She hung up before Fergus had a chance to answer.
Ade covered his face with his hands, his breathing amplified by the cocoon of his palms.
“All right, sweetheart?” his mum asked.
He gave a quick nod. Yes, he would be, in time.
***
