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Strong hands rubbed my arms, offering some comfort. It wasn’t what I wanted, or was it?
“Nothing is certain, Liam,” he murmured in my ear. “That bastard is still in prison. He’s still locked up where he belongs. You have nothing to worry about.”
I had everything to worry about. I was a worrier and an overthinker and got anxious about shit before it even happened.
Who knew what the consequences would be if he got out? Yes, it would affect Ziggy as much as it did me, but he had Marc. I had no one. After the assault, I’d gone to stay with my parents, but gradually, things had gone from bad to worse. At first, they had been understanding, but as my addiction grew, I’d stolen money from them to feed my habit.
They had told me to get clean or get out.
I got out.
Hindsight was a wonderful thing, and had I been in a better state of mind, I might have got clean for them, at least tried to be the son they wanted. Except that would never have been enough for them.
They’d always treated me with that niggle of resentment when I deigned to visit them. Usually on high days and holidays. They had been polite, said and did what they thought was the right thing to do. Eventually, I’d stopped visiting, and other than a rushed call on my birthday, I had no contact with them.
Except for Drew, I was well and truly alone.
I moved away from John. This was all his fault.
It wasn’t, but I needed someone to blame. I wanted to shout at the world, rage about the unfairness of it all.
“Just go, John. I can’t be with anyone right now.” I pushed past him and stormed up the stairs to my room. What a fucking weekend it had been!
As I lay on my bed, I heard the front door close quietly. That little voice inside me, the one I’d locked away in the recess of my mind, started.
You know what would help, Liam.
I pushed the voice down. Yes, I knew what would help, but I wasn’t going there again. I couldn’t.
Think how good you’d feel?
Covering my ears, I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Don’t listen, don’t listen.
Drew had helped me to get where I was, even let me live here rent-free until I got back on my feet. How would he ever forgive me if I relapsed?
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I shouted, but there was no one to hear me.
Just a little, take the edge off.
No, a thousand times no.
Keeping busy, that's what I needed to do. I hopped off the bed and dressed hurriedly, eager to be out of the house. The last thing I needed right now was to be alone.
The ground was white, a heavy frost had settled overnight, and even though it was almost one in the afternoon, it lay thick. Gingerly I made my way into the city, surrounding myself with shoppers bustling about with their carrier bags. Couples laughing and holding hands, mums with their kids pointing out what they wanted for Christmas.
It wouldn’t be long, just a few short weeks. The big day would be here before I knew it. Drew spent Christmas with his parents while I stayed at home. I had no desire to visit my family. I usually drank myself stupid while watching Christmas movies, and my evening wasn’t complete until I’d eaten a whole trifle by myself.
This year would be no different.
What would John do? He’d said there was no Mrs Palmer, and from the way he’d held and touched me, I knew what his preference was. You didn’t pull someone onto your lap and cuddle them if you didn’t fancy him. Not in my experience anyway.
I wandered until I found myself at the bus station again. Right in front of me was the bus heading to Crosby, where my life had changed forever.
Dare I? Should I?
I’d not gone back since it had happened, too terrified of the ghosts that haunted me. Was it time to put them to rest?
Without another thought, I hopped onto the bus and sat by the window, drawing circles in the condensation. What the hell was I doing?
