To my great relief (tinged with guilt; this was her mum and dad’s choice, after all, not hers) she accepted this and came over to help me wrap some presents, while Kieron and Justin played yet more Football Manager upstairs. I’d dispatched Mike, meanwhile (and not at all to his liking) to head to town with my last-minute shopping list.
Perhaps, I thought, just perhaps, all would be well. I took a deep breath. So far, at least.
But the calm in the Watson household wasn’t destined to last. It was around four in the afternoon and by now I was busy in the kitchen, preparing the veg for our Christmas dinner the next day. Justin had been downstairs a couple of times, moaning about how I hadn’t written what we were having for tea on the chart yet, and when he made a third appearance, I was short with him.
‘Look, love,’ I said to him, conscious even then that I was irritable. ‘I am trying to get the food ready for tomorrow. I do have other things on my mind besides what you’re having for your tea!’
Almost as soon as I’d said this, I wished I could have swallowed the words, because Justin’s reaction was instantaneous. His eyes darkened, in that rather scary way we’d come to witness – a sure sign that he’d lost it, and big time.
‘You can stick your tea and your Christmas up your arse!’ he roared at me, before flying from the room and slamming the kitchen door so hard I was sure it made the walls rattle.
Kieron appeared in the kitchen moments later, presumably having heard this and passed Justin on the stairs. I tried to bite back the tears that were springing from my eyes. I don’t think until that moment I’d really accepted quite how stressed out I really was, and the last thing I wanted was for Kieron to see it now. But within seconds, things were about to get worse. Before I had even started telling Kieron what had just occurred, Justin burst back in through the door, his eyes now blazing, his cheeks florid, brandishing all the Disney DVDs that we’d bought for him, screaming manically as he snapped them, one by one, in half.
‘This is what I think of your stupid fucking tea!’ he screamed at me. ‘And this is what I think of your stupid fucking presents! They’re for kids!’ he yelled, as shards of DVD flew across the kitchen. ‘So why don’t you give them to your ugly fucking niece! I don’t want them, okay? And I couldn’t play them anyway! Because I’ve smashed up my DVD player, too!’
‘Justin –’ I began.
But Justin was unseeing, and not listening to me at all. He grabbed my mobile from the kitchen table and hurled it against the wall. The back flew off immediately and the battery fell out, the bits joining the mass of DVD shards. It was so sudden that it took me completely by surprise, and I just stood there and gaped for a moment, speechless.
‘Get to your room! NOW!’ Kieron suddenly barked at him. ‘And don’t even think about coming down until you’re ready to apologise! You’re a selfish little brat, and if it were up to me, you’d be having no tea at all, you understand?’
Justin’s eyes were now as full of unshed tears as my own were, and as he fled the room, mine spilled out over my cheeks, despite all my good intentions about not crying.
I pulled out a chair and sat on it and put my head in my hands, mortified both that I’d handled things so badly, and that I’d upset Kieron. Upset everything. Ruined Christmas.
But I didn’t sit on it for long. What was I thinking? I stood up again, and went to put my arm around Kieron, as he stooped to gather up the parts of my dismembered phone. He was white as a sheet and I could feel he was shaking.
‘It’s okay, love,’ I soothed him. He hated seeing me upset. ‘He probably just needed to get that out of his system. I think we all did. I’m okay, Kieron, honest.’
‘Oh, God, mum. I know. But, God, I almost slapped him!’ This thought clearly horrified him, as I knew it would. That wasn’t Kieron. He looked hard at me. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
I squeezed his shoulder. ‘I’m fine now. Really fine. I swear.’
I took a step back from him now, gently shaking his shoulders. ‘But look at you! Coming over all Bruce Lee for your mum!’
He tutted at this. ‘Bruce Lee? He’s ancient! Bruce Willis, more like.’
Whatever. I let go a big sigh of relief. Situation diffused. At least for now.
By the time Mike returned with the shopping, I had calmed down sufficiently to see clearly. This was just an outburst – a symptom – not the end of the word. Kieron, understandably, was still very angry and insistent that Justin come and apologize to me, but after he’d explained to Mike what had happened, I felt it was really important that we calm the whole temperature down. I neither wanted nor needed an apology, I told them. It was just the build-up, the anticipation; it had all clearly been too much for him. I should have thought, I went on, about how it must be for him. How different it must have all been from what he was used to. And despite us telling him that Santa was bringing him lots of presents, why should he believe us? He hadn’t seen them, because we’d hidden them. And why, with his past, should he trust any of us? Trust anyone?
Despite that, Mike still felt he must go up and speak to him. Not to rant at him – that, we both agreed, would be pointless; even counter-productive. He was probably well used to people tearing strips off him all the time – but just to make it clear that his behaviour was unacceptable. He already knew that, of course – he’d know he’d lose points on his behaviour chart – but Mike felt strongly that he needed not to gloss over it, but to spell it out.
They both came back down, half an hour later, and Justin’s head was hanging. His eyes were red and swollen. You could see he’d been crying a lot.
‘I’m sorry Casey,’ he said solemnly. ‘I’m sorry, Kieron. I’ll pay you back for everything with my pocket money, I promise. I’ve got £16 in my drawer too, so that’ll be a start.’
He looked so sorry and so ashamed that my heart melted instantly. Poor kid. Poor, poor kid. Born to such terrible circumstances, and none of it his fault.
‘Just forget it,’ I said to him. But Mike shook his head.
‘No, Casey,’ he said. ‘We’ve already sorted it, haven’t we, Justin? That we’ll get him a new DVD player once he’s saved up enough to pay half. Agreed, Justin?’
Justin nodded. ‘Agreed.’
I crossed the kitchen and ruffled Justin’s hair. And he let me. It was only a small thing, but at least we’d made some contact.
Once again, I felt the tension drain out of my body, and my sense of optimism about Christmas returning. It would be fine now. Outburst over, we could now all enjoy Christmas and New Year.
But it would be less than forty-eight hours before I was proved wrong.
Chapter 4
I woke on Christmas morning in my usual good spirits, and was once again up early, and straight down in the living room, flicking through the TV channels to find something festive to put on. After a few clicks of the remote I found The Wizard of Oz – one of my favourites – so I left that playing while I headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, where I added my Christmas CD to the cacophony, turning it up just that little bit too much.
‘For God’s sake, love!’ said Mike, following me in there in his dressing gown.
I pulled him towards me and tried to get him to do a twirl with me, but he was having none of it. ‘Get off me, you nutter!’ he said, grinning. ‘You’ll have the whole bloody street up with the racket you’re making! Go get some breakfast on, woman!’
He then kissed me on the nose