‘Chinese or Indian?’ Mike wanted to know. ‘They’re both open. I’m feeling curry, myself – you?’
‘Don’t care,’ I called back to him as I plumped the sofa cushions, so we could sit down and watch yet another movie.
It was coming up to seven now, and the two of us were downing tools for the evening. Mike had returned around 2.30 and come straight round to Riley’s, and we’d spent an enjoyable couple of hours there, just chatting about nothing; something which, like tonight, felt like a very distant luxury; one which I aimed to enjoy to the full.
Kieron was now out – some sort of lads’ night on the tiles with a group of his college friends, and wouldn’t be back again tonight. He was loving college and we were so happy to see him fitting in so well there. He was really interested in becoming a professional DJ on the club circuits, so had decided to enrol on a media studies course. He was into his second term now and his tutor had said that he was making great progress. He’d also settled in socially and had made some solid friendships – he’d be sleeping over with one of his mates tonight, probably so we wouldn’t see what sort of state he’d be in.
Mike filled me in on his first impressions of Justin’s mother when we got home. Justin himself had apparently continued to be excited for the whole journey, babbling on about his little brothers and reminiscing about other Christmases and how exciting they had been. But when Mike asked anything specific, he tended to skirt around it; it was as if, Mike felt, he had this idealised perfect Christmas tableau in his mind, and that anything that reminded him of the reality had to be ignored, or the picture would be ruined.
Janice, Mike also told me, to my surprise, looked a bit like me. She was only a couple of inches taller than me and had the same dark eyes and black hair. He said she seemed very friendly and had invited him in. He’d felt reluctant but Justin was apparently insistent that he go in and meet his little brothers.
‘Oh, I wish I’d been there with you,’ I told him. ‘I’d have loved to have met the little ones. What were they like? Did they look anything like Justin?’
Mike looked at me with that characteristically blank male expression. ‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘I didn’t really notice.’
Typical male, I thought. Completely failed to get the facts. I shook my head. ‘So what did the house look like, anyway? Were the kids well dressed? Were there books around? What sort of toys?’
‘Hang on,’ he said, pretending to rummage in his pocket. ‘I think I have the full list right here. Complete with photographs …’
But I did wheedle some facts out of him eventually.
The family lived in a council house in the middle of a run-down estate, and the garden, Mike said, was full of rubbish. An old sofa, a load of broken kids’ toys, and so on, were strewn around, while inside it was old fashioned, with an old fabric suite, seventies-style brown curtains and an ashtray that was overflowing with cigarette ends. The one incongruous thing was an enormous flat-screen telly and home-entertainment system, which apparently took up almost one whole wall of the living room.
He was satisfied, however, that Janice’s welcome was authentic, and that she and Justin were genuinely pleased to see each other.
Mike looked tired now, and he’d have another early start tomorrow, as he was due to collect Justin from his mum’s at around noon. So, satisfied that all was okay, I could finally relax – I intended to make the most of some ‘us’ time before then.
‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is on – perfect!’ I said as he returned with the take-away menus. ‘And it’s only just started, too. Come on, snuggle up. You can put the order in when they have the next bunch of adverts.’ I had held off from eating for most of the day, and was definitely looking forward to my Indian-style butter chicken and pilau rice, but I could hold off for another twenty minutes.
But whatever was going on in Jimmy Stewart’s life, someone up there definitely didn’t seem to like us. From the hall we could suddenly hear ringing – it was the phone. ‘Who on earth could that be?’ I said, as we both went to get up from the sofa at the same moment. ‘Don’t worry, love,’ I told Mike, nudging him back down again. ‘Stay put there. I’ll go and see.’
I walked out into the hallway and picked up the receiver, by now half-expecting to hear either my mum or dad’s voice – the rest of the family, like us, all used their mobiles these days. But before I could so much as get half a word out, I was greeted by the sound of an angry woman’s voice.
‘Can you come and get this little bastard?’ she snarled at me. ‘I fucking mean it. Come and get him now!’
I was absolutely gobsmacked and at first had no idea what was happening. ‘I beg your pardon,’ I said. ‘Who is this?’
‘It’s me!’ the woman snapped. ‘Janice. Is that Casey?’
This was the first time I’d ever spoken to Justin’s mother and I was mortified. ‘Janice!’ I said. ‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong?’
I could hear her shouting, then, away from the phone, to someone else. ‘You go near those kids, I’ll kill you, you evil little bastard! You there, Casey?’ She was back shouting at me again now. ‘Can you here what’s going on here? Can you?’
‘Please Janice,’ I said, trying to keep my own voice calm and level. Mike had appeared in the hall now and was looking at me quizzically. ‘Just tell me what’s going on there. Is Justin alright?’
She laughed sarcastically, but I could tell she was finding none of this any funnier than I was. ‘Justin? Is fucking Justin alright? No he’s not! He’s not fucking right in the head!’ She burst into tears then and now I could hear Justin in the background. He was shouting now: ‘Casey! You’d better come and get me, Casey! I’m going to kill this fucking bitch in a minute!’
I tried hard to keep composed in the face of the reality that Mike would have to get him, and right away. ‘Right, Janice,’ I told her. ‘Janice? Listen. Mike’s going to set off now, okay. Just try to calm down … he’ll get to you as soon as he can … tell you what, can you put Justin on the phone for me?’
I cupped my hand over the mouthpiece. ‘I’m so sorry, love,’ I mouthed at Mike, making faces to let him know that there’d been some sort of crisis. ‘But you’re going to have to go back and get him. Sounds like all hell’s broken out up there. She’s hysterical and crying and he’s threatening to kill her. God … Can you just get ready while I try to calm things down?’
Mike, now resigned to the fact that our ‘peaceful’ night was not to be after all, left me trying to get to the bottom of things while he went to get himself ready for another long drive. In the meantime, I heard the phone being picked up again. ‘Justin? Is that you, love? What’s been happening? What’s going on?’
He was crying too. Big snuffling sobs were pouring out of him in waves. ‘Just get me, please, Casey. I’m going to kill the slag, I swear it!’
‘Justin, love, it’s okay. It’ll all