The Cockney Canuck - 154. Chapter 154 Absolution

After a restless night thinking about Matthew, I was woken by the rain pelting the window at the side of my bed. I sat up to peep between the blinds at the waterlogged backyard, then glanced at my clock. It was eight-thirty. On a typical weekday at that time, I would already be in my classroom standing for the national anthem, but the spring break provided a welcome respite from the rigours of school life and a well-deserved rest.

I had a few good reasons to feel proud. After a year plagued with enforced absence, my attendance record since December was a hundred per cent, my grades were up in almost every subject, and despite an increasingly turbulent private life, I had managed to keep out of trouble. Even Don had to begrudgingly admit that I had done well, although I suspect he would rather have chewed on broken glass than give any credit to the person most responsible.

It was no coincidence that my life began to turn around the moment I met Jo. She gave me the confidence and determination to be the person I was meant to be, but soon I would have to survive without the benefit of our after-school sessions. They had gradually been scaled back to just one hour a week, with the final one scheduled for Thursday. That was just two days away, and despite her assurances that she would always be there if I needed her, the thought of losing that weekly slot was beginning to worry me.

She had become my personal advisor, minder, and closest confidant, but her impending departure from my life came at a difficult time. Matthew had put me in an awkward position by admitting he was a victim of physical abuse and then swearing me to secrecy. Now, for the first time, I would have to withhold information from my counsellor, breaking our agreement and potentially compromising my safety.

It was ironic because Jo was the person Matthew needed the most. I knew if I could persuade him to talk to her and spill the beans on Symmonds, she would make sure he was safe and see to it that his abuser faced the justice he deserved. With Matthew’s evidence, Jo had the authority to destroy Symmonds and put an end to his conversion therapy—a process I now knew relied heavily on physical abuse.

That was the plan, and it sounded easy in my head, but I had no idea how I would implement it or when I would even get to see Matthew again. Accepting the pastor's offer to go sailing seemed like the best bet, but only if Symmonds wasn’t there. Matthew, as good as told me the evil counsellor was out to get me, and I had a feeling he already knew more about me than he was prepared to let on.

'There are no secrets in this town. You should know that by now.'

I kept replaying his words in my head as I closed my eyes, but I was unable to go back to sleep, and soon my brother was awake, creeping around the room after his shower and trying not to disturb me as he got dressed. Nicola wasn't so considerate, and she received a predictable response after thumping on the door and yelling at us to get up.

"Fuck off!"

Swearing at my sister always made me feel better, and I sat up, yawned and rubbed my eyes. Daniel was standing by his bed spraying his underarms and most of the room with a scented deodorant that made me cough. He sported a curious grin and looked like a man on a mission as he covered his chest with a tight-fitting polo shirt, then sat down to pull on some socks—a sure sign that he was going out.

When he noticed me staring, he threw his wet towel across the room at me. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were giving me a strange look.”

“That’s because you are strange.” I threw back my duvet and stood up to stretch.

"Not as strange as you, dude. You were talking in your sleep last night."

His comment was sure to grab my attention. "Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I don’t talk in my sleep."

"Yes, you do. Well, sometimes you do. Not really talking, though; it's usually more of a mumble."

"What did I say?"

"I dunno; I couldn't understand you, but you were loud enough to wake me up."

I rubbed my head and walked across the room to search for something to wear. This was a worrying development, particularly for someone who was trying to keep a secret. Daniel usually slept like a log, so I must have been loud if I managed to wake him up.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It’s nothing to worry about. It’s not like you do it all the time. You were probably having a bad dream or something.”

I couldn’t remember what I was dreaming about, but if it was bad, it seemed likely that Symmonds was involved.

‘Even in my sleep, I’m not safe from him.’

“Do me a favour, Daniel. If I do it again, can you wake me up?”

“No way! Whenever I wake you up, you get all grumpy and try to hit me.”

“That’s only on school days,” I dropped my pyjama bottoms and grabbed a clean pair of briefs from my drawer. “And only because you wake me up too late.”

My brother studied himself in the mirror then looked over his shoulder at me with a wry smile. “I shouldn’t have to wake you up at all. You have your own alarm. I’m not your slave.” He waited by the door as I fumbled with my briefs. “I have to go upstairs. Are you gonna put those on, or shall I open the door and let Amy see you naked?”

“Can’t you wait!” I stepped into my briefs and carefully tucked myself away while my brother sent a text. “Why are you in such a hurry anyway?”

“I’m supposed to meet Ratana. I’m taking her to see the boat today.”

That explained the perfume and new clothes, but maybe he hadn’t noticed the weather. “It’s pissing down. Cats and dogs, mate,” I smirked as I picked out a t-shirt and signalled that it was okay for him to open the door.

Daniel shrugged. “So what? It won’t be raining inside the boat, dude.”

I didn’t get it. “What’s the point in going all the way over there just to sit inside a cramped boat with nothing to do?” I was still groggy from a poor night’s sleep, but my brother had a crafty smile as he turned and walked into the family room.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

I stared at his back and scratched my head as the penny dropped.

‘You crafty little fucker.’

I had to admire his audacity, but it was a risky plan. Don was working in Toronto and wouldn’t be back until late, but Daniel still had to avoid being spotted by any of his dad’s friends. I guessed the rain would keep most of them away, but Don would go berserk if he found out Daniel was using his new acquisition as a knocking shop. It made me laugh. My brother must have been feeling super horny to want to take that risk, or maybe it was his girlfriend. She was always quiet and reserved, but my limited experience with girls taught me that they liked sex just as much as the boys. Unfortunately, I learned that lesson the hard way and now faced the daunting prospect of becoming a teenage parent with my sister’s best friend.

‘Could my life get any more complicated?’

Daniel didn’t make those kinds of mistakes. He probably wore a condom for a hand job and would never get caught doing anything untoward. He was smarter than me; that’s why he had never been grounded, but as much as I wanted that to change, I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardise his love life. I knew how frustrating it was to have a willing partner and nowhere to go.

Unlike most teenagers, that was no longer an issue for me, and I considered myself fortunate to have a boyfriend with such a loving and practical family. Their willingness to turn a blind eye and allow me to share a bed with Nathan under the guise of an innocent sleepover was more than just a fortuitous twist of fate. It was my reward for looking after their broken and wayward son, nursing him back to health, and rescuing him from the brink of drug addiction.

It was now twelve weeks since Nathan was attacked at the infamous Palm Springs Motel, and other than a small scar below his lip, the only physical reminders of that night were the casts on his arms. They were a serious handicap and a constant source of frustration for a boy who used to be so active, but soon his ordeal would be over. The doctor confirmed the good news later that day when I accompanied my boyfriend to the hospital for another x-ray and check-up. His young bones were healing well, and a date was set the following week for his plaster casts to be removed.

Nathan was ecstatic. It meant he could finally put the worst part of this horrible episode behind him and start the next phase of his road to recovery. He could go back to school, see his friends, and resume his beloved drama classes, although he would have to rebuild the muscles in his arms before taking part in any physical activities.

It was a relief for me too. As much as I enjoyed holding his penis, I could think of better things to do with it than watch him pee. We could be a proper couple again. I was looking forward to holding hands with him and feeling his nimble fingers in places where they hadn’t been for a long time.

His family’s joy was tempered with justifiable concerns over his well-being. The return of his freedom meant they could no longer keep a close eye on him, and they were worried he would fall back into bad habits. I did my best to reassure them, claiming that Nathan no longer had any need to experiment with drugs now that he had me, but they were my words, not his.

From what he told me, I was convinced his family had overreacted. He was never a regular user, and he was hardly addicted, but for various reasons, it was a subject that was rarely, if ever, breached whenever we were together. He told me before we started dating again that he wouldn’t use drugs anymore, and so far, I had no reason to doubt him, but I was aware of how tempting they could be, and I wasn’t naïve enough to dismiss the possibility altogether.

*     *     *

After the heavy rain on Tuesday, the forecast for the remainder of the spring break was mild and sunny. So, the next day, I neglected Nathan and took the bus across town to visit another friend who spent way too much time indoors. I hadn’t seen Jamie in almost two months, but he looked well as he flung his arms around my waist before introducing me to the newest member of his family.

Pluto was a very excitable six-month-old Labrador Retriever and the cutest thing I had ever seen on four legs. For a puppy, he was already quite big and difficult to control with an eye for mischief. When I slipped off my shoes, he ran off with one of them, and I had to chase him around the house to get it back.

“He likes to play,” said Jamie as I prised my shoe from his dog’s mouth. “I think he’ll calm down when he gets older.”

His mom wasn’t so optimistic. “We bought him for Jamie,” she said. “To keep him company, but I didn’t realise he would be so energetic. He’s a bit of a handful at the moment.”

Jamie loved him, though, and Pluto followed his young master wherever he went, running between us and nearly tripping him up on the way to his bedroom.

“He’s not used to visitors,” said Jamie. “Do you wanna play me at soccer?”

I was glad to see him still enjoying the game I bought him for Christmas but wary of the evil glint in his eye.

“Just one game,” I said as he set everything up. “And you have to promise to go easy on me.” I sat next to him on his bed while he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“Don’t worry; I won’t.”

I hadn’t played since my last visit, and a drubbing was inevitable. After thrashing me ten–one, Jamie turned off the game and sat on his hands with an impish grin. I had seen that look before and braced myself for an awkward question.

“Did you make up with Nathan?”

“What … how did you?”

“Facebook. I’m friends with him, and he posted a picture of you guys in a restaurant.”

It started to make sense. I remembered his sister taking pictures of us the night his dad took us out for a meal. I hardly used my Facebook account and didn’t realise Nathan, or more likely his sister had posted them. I held my hands up in a sign of surrender.

“Well done, Sherlock. That’s good detective work. But I was going to tell you anyway.”

Jamie looked pleased with himself, but I hadn’t answered his question. “So, is he …? I mean, are you back to being … boyfriends?” He whispered the last word so quietly I could barely hear him.

“Yes, is that okay with you?”

“I told you before. It doesn’t bother me that you’re gay.” This time he forgot to whisper, and I cringed and looked towards the hall. His bedroom door was open, but I was certain his family were downstairs. Jamie, realising his mistake, covered his mouth. “Oops, sorry.”

“Would it bother your parents if they knew I was … you know?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never talked to them about anything like that.”

I thought Jamie was being diplomatic. Even at his tender age, most kids knew their parent’s views on gay people, and my friend was quite astute. It was a timely reminder that I still needed to be careful when talking to people I didn’t know that well, and I was glad I didn’t bring Nathan with me. Even without his makeup and customary bling, my boyfriend struggled to look anything other than extremely gay, and it may have been difficult to explain our friendship.

“Well, maybe it’s best they don’t find out.” I felt guilty for asking Jamie to keep secrets from his parents, but I had my reasons for being cautious.

My friendship with their son was difficult even for me to categorise. I genuinely enjoyed his company and felt inspired by his exuberance and optimism, but it was unusual for a sixteen-year-old to want to hang out with a kid four years his junior. He looked up to me, so I tried to be a role model and the big brother he never had, but I was also aware of how such a friendship could be misinterpreted by anyone looking to find fault, especially if they knew I was gay.

It was his dad I was concerned about more than his mom, but only because I didn’t know him that well. Experience taught me to be cautious, and I think Jamie understood my concerns.

“It’s okay; I won’t tell them you like kissing boys.” He laughed as he scampered across the bed, holding his pillow in front of him as a shield. “But only if you help take Pluto for a walk. My mom won’t let me take him out on my own.”

“I haven’t got much choice then, have I?”

Jamie shook his head and grinned from ear to ear before relaying the good news to his bewildered pooch. “Robbie’s going to take us for a walk, Pluto. Where do you wanna go?” The boy dipped his head and showed Pluto his ear, then pulled a yukky face when the dog started licking his cheek. “He said he wants to go to the beach.”

“Pluto said that?”

“Yup! He’s never been there before. Pleeease.”

Pluto’s communication skills were impressive, but I doubt he could pull a more convincing puppy dog face than his owner. Jamie nailed it. For a sick kid who always looked so pale, he had the most beautiful light-blue eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. This was the best I had seen him. All he needed now was a bit of sunshine to put some colour in those dimpled cheeks, so I went downstairs to ask his mom.

It seemed like a formality, but she looked surprised and was uncomfortable with what I considered to be a relatively tame request.

“It’s a long way,” she said, “why don’t you go to the park instead?”

It was probably no more than a mile away, but I had to respect her decision knowing that Jamie was unlikely to take no for an answer. He wasn’t to be denied, and his mom was forced to concede. Considering his illness, I didn’t blame her for being overprotective. She was a good parent who had dedicated her life to the needs of her only son, but there were times when he seemed to suffocate under the weight of her wing.

This was a big moment for their family, although, at the time, I was unaware of the importance. Jamie was nearly a teenager, but other than going to and from school, he never left his house without adult supervision. Going to the beach with a friend was a significant step for him and one he needed to take, even if there was some risk attached. The fact that I was four years his senior and only just outside the official boundaries of adulthood no doubt swung it in his favour, but I was still stupid enough to make it fun.

“I trust you to look after him,” said his mom as she gave me her cell phone number, his puffer and a small bottle of blue tablets. “They’re for Jamie if he has a panic attack.” I looked at her son, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Mrs O’connell.

“I know you're a responsible boy, Robbie.”

I could almost hear Don laughing at her choice of words. He wouldn’t have been so generous, but I considered myself level-headed and more than capable of caring for my young friend.

“She worries too much,” explained Jamie as he waved goodbye to his mom from the end of the driveway before embarking on an adventure that promised to be the highlight of his week.

I was already three steps ahead of him, pulled faster than I could walk by his hyperactive puppy, who was surprisingly strong for his age. I could understand why Jamie wasn’t able to walk him on his own.

“What do feed him on, steroids?”

“He’ll calm down in a bit when he gets tired.”

I had my doubts. Pluto didn’t look like the type who would easily tire and took advantage of my inexperience at dog handling. He zigzagged in front of me, guided by his nose, before abruptly changing direction at the sight of a rival dog and tying me up in knots.

Pluto’s antics threatened to pull my arm from its socket and doubled the time it should have taken us to get to the beach, but Jamie didn’t care, and that smile never left his face.

“Have you been to the beach before?” I asked.

“Sure. My dad took me last year, but it was hot, and there were too many people. I didn’t like it, so we didn’t stay long.”

“I don’t think we’ll have those problems today.”

It wasn’t warm enough for the regulars, and despite it being spring break, there were only a handful of teenagers scattered across the wide sandy beach and no one I recognised. Jamie decided he didn’t like walking on the sand and Pluto wasn’t supposed to be on the beach, so we walked around the perimeter and sat on the first available bench. In my backpack was a lunch that his mom had hastily prepared, two bottles of water and a plastic bowl for Pluto. I tied his leash to the metal arm of the bench and shared my water with him as Jamie munched on a sandwich.

In front of us beyond the beach was the vast expanse of Lake Ontario—a freshwater lake that looked and behaved like a sea. There was something deeply foreboding about that body of water that fascinated me and demanded my respect, although I could never understand what it was. “It’s pretty scary, don’t you think? All that water.”

Jamie stopped chewing to look at me as if I was losing my marbles, and maybe I was. “I thought you were supposed to be a lifeguard.”

“You can still be scared. Anyway, I’m not a lifeguard. I’ve never saved anyone’s life, and I doubt if I could anymore. I don’t even swim nowadays.”

“Is it something that you can forget how to do?”

“Well, no. I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think so either. I bet you could save someone if you had to.”

I appreciated his vote of confidence, but it wasn’t that straightforward. “It’s okay; I’m not planning on doing it for a living. You have to be in pretty good shape for that.”

Jamie looked at me with a critical eye. “You look like you’re fit. Fitter than me, anyway.”

It was true. I did look fitter than Jamie, but sadly, so did almost everybody else.

I told Jamie about Don’s boat, and he wanted me to take him to see it. The yacht club wasn’t that far, and I was tempted to go until I remembered yesterday’s conversation with my brother. I had a disturbing image in my head of us showing up when Daniel was shagging his girlfriend. So rather than risk an embarrassing situation or an early lesson in sex education for young Jamie, I thought it best to stay away.

“I’ll take you to see it when it’s in the marina. Maybe one day you can even go sailing with us.”

There were still two weeks to go before the boats were due to be lifted into the harbour, but I was sure his mom would never allow him to go sailing, and my suggestion wasn’t met with much enthusiasm. Jamie knew his limitations, and unlike every kid I had ever met, he didn’t groan or complain about things he couldn’t do. He was easy to please and accepting of my authority, but also quite inquisitive and forthright with his questions.

“What happened to Nathan’s arms?”

“He was attacked, Jamie. But he’s almost better now.”

“Was it because he’s gay?”

“I think that had a lot to do with it.”

He turned to face me, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Do you love him?”

I wasn’t expecting that question, but I did my best to provide an honest answer. “I think so; why?”

“What does it feel like?”

“You wanna know what it feels like to love someone? You love your parents, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“Well, it is a little, I suppose, but not much. I’m sure you’ll find out yourself one day.”

“I doubt it; I don’t think I’ll ever have a girlfriend.”

“Of course, you will when you’re older. There are a lot of girls in Cobourg. You won’t escape that easy.”

“What makes you think I’ll still be here?”

My heart sank when I realised what he meant. The nurses in the hospital told me it was unlikely he would live past his twenties, but no one knew for certain, and Jamie wasn’t usually pessimistic about his chances. I was woefully unprepared for this kind of conversation and struggled to find the right words. Lying was never an option, and neither was feeling sorry for him, but I had to say something.

“Of course, you’re gonna be here.”

“But there’s a chance I won’t; you know that, right? I could die next week.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Nobody knows how long they’re gonna live for. I nearly didn’t make it this far, remember.”

“I know that, but you had an accident. This is different.” It was a silly comparison for me to make, and I pushed my windswept hair from my face and tried to hide any emotion. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not sad about it, and I’m not going to give up either, but I can’t pretend everything’s gonna be okay.” He smiled, but I was gobsmacked—astounded by his ability to talk so candidly without any emotion or self-pity. The kid never failed to surprise me. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to be his friend.

“You’re a very special person, Jamie.” It was an understatement. He was much more than that, and it was impossible not to feel humbled by his courage. I wondered how he could still smile and talk about it as if it was just one of those things. “I’m not trying to pretend I know what it’s like for you because I don’t, but I’m trying to understand, and I wanna help.”

“I know you do. My mom told me that you ask her questions.”

“She did?”

“It’s okay. Fibrosis is complicated. Most people don’t understand it, and they won’t ask because they’re frightened of upsetting me. Then they don’t know how to act or what to say, so they stay away, which is worse. I like it that you ask questions, and so does my mom. You can ask me too; I don’t mind. If you’re unsure about something, it’s better just to ask than worry about upsetting me because you won’t.”

I believed it too. Jamie had an indomitable spirit that carried him through a difficult and lonely existence with the smile and wit of someone genuinely privileged. It was easy to forget he was only twelve.

I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him towards me for a spontaneous hug. His response was similar to how I acted whenever Sue felt the urge to put her arms around me. He groaned his displeasure but accepted his fate with a smile full of a half-eaten sandwich. I understood Sue a lot better after that day and vowed never to complain about her hugs again. As for Jamie, there were times when it was impossible not to love the boy, and I enjoyed our day out as much as he did, if for vastly different reasons. Anyone who saw us that day would have assumed he was my brother, but siblings were rarely that subservient. There was something almost parental about our interactions that appealed to me. Being responsible for someone so vulnerable made me feel important and triggered all kinds of confusing questions.

‘Maybe I would make a good father, after all.’

Even at my tender age, I was certain I could do a better job than Don or my real dad. The situation with Stephanie wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t going to disappear suddenly. She was my sister’s best friend and close to the family.

‘If I wanted to be a father, will I ever get a better opportunity than this?’

I liked girls but had no desire to have sex again with a female, so short of adoption or donating my sperm, the answer, of course, was an emphatic no.

*     *     *

I was still getting dressed when Jo turned up at our house the following morning for our final session. With Don and Sue at work, Nicola invited her in, and they were talking in the hall when I raced past them and sat on the floor to pull on my shoes.

“You're early,” I said, glancing up at my purple-haired counsellor.

“A little,” said Jo. “But I kinda thought you’d be outta bed by ten o’clock.”

“I am. Where are we going anyway?”

It was the first time Jo had picked me up from home and our only meeting outside of the school, but she refused to tell me where we were going. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t want to go if she told me first, and she would have been right.

As I grabbed my coat from the closet, my counsellor shook my sister’s hand. “Nice to meet you; at last, it’s Nicola, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t worry; your brother has told me all about you.” Nicola looked a little worried and gave me a stern look as Jo pointed towards the stairs, “And you must be Amy.”

My little sister was hiding with only the top of her head and eyes showing through the bannisters. She looked horrified when she realised Jo had spotted her, and she slowly stood up before scampering across the hall to shelter behind Nicola with a nervous grin.

“Yes, that’s Amy,” I said, “and she’s not usually this shy.”

“That’s okay,” said Jo. “Most kids find me a little scary.”

‘And adults.’

Daniel seemed more curious than scared when I introduced the last of my adopted siblings to a woman who already knew everything about them. She was finally able to put faces to their names, but ironically the only member of the family she hadn’t met was Don, although he had seen her drop me off from the safety of the living room window. He called her a mess and made fun of her unconventional appearance, but he always kept out of her way.

Eventually, I was able to coax Amy into the open to say hello, before she ran upstairs. I couldn’t blame her for being a little wary of the woman with green mascara, bright-red lipstick, and a diamond nose-stud, but my counsellor’s attire that day was relatively subdued. Her usual well-worn biker’s jacket had been replaced by a simple black coat and jeans—sombre clothing that may have given me a clue about our destination.

“A cemetery?”

“Well done, you’re not as stupid as you look. There’s something I need to show you. Come on; we don’t have to stay very long.”

I had learned never to question Jo’s logic, so we left her car, and I followed her along a winding concrete path and up a slight incline to a secluded spot by the perimeter fence. There were a dozen or so unkept graves surrounded by weeds in the shadow of a big oak tree. I had already guessed why we were there long before Jo stopped in front of the headstone bearing my father’s name.

I felt her hand on my shoulder as I stared at his grave. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I figured it was about time.”

“For what?”

“To forgive him, Robbie.”

My eyes were starting to sting, and I had a lump in my throat, but I refused to cry over a man I never knew.

“Why should I forgive him? He didn’t want me.”

“He wanted you enough to go to court and fight for custody. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want you? So it wasn’t his fault. You're blaming him for something that he had no control over.”

“He was a drunk; that’s why my mom left him.”

“No, Robbie. Your mom left him because she met someone else. Maybe you don’t wanna hear this, but it’s the truth.”

I stared at the weathered headstone as I tried to process what she said—comparing it with what my mom told me. She never spoke at length about my dad or the reasons why we had to leave. I was fed snippets of information but only enough to satisfy my immediate curiosity, and I always had to ask her. Nothing was ever volunteered.

“How do you know this?”

“It’s my job. You're my job, Robbie. I do research and have a lot of sources. I’m sorry I had to tell you this, but it’s important that you know the truth, because I need you to understand that it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t you that he was angry with, and you played no part in their divorce.”

“So, she cheated on him. But why? They were only married a couple of years.”

Jo put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. “That I can’t answer. Love and attraction have no logical parameters. You know that. I’m not judging her, and neither should you. She had her reasons, but it’s worth remembering that there are always two stories in every divorce and rarely do they ever match up. Your father made some bad choices, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t love you.”

“Then why didn’t he try to contact me? He knew our phone number and address in England. He could have called me. He never even bothered to send me a birthday card. All I wanted was some kind of recognition—proof that he existed. How much does a stamp cost?”

I sniffed and wiped my face with the back of my hand as Jo searched her huge shoulder bag for a tissue. I was annoyed at myself for allowing tears to escape, but I was adamant they weren’t for him.

“I can’t answer that either, but I know his life went downhill after your mom left. When he lost the custody battle, his drinking became a problem. Alcohol addiction is an illness. He may have died in a car accident, but it was the drink that killed him.”

Jo was meticulous with her research and would not have told me this unless she knew it was true, but it was going to be difficult to forgive someone I had despised from a young age. For as long as I could remember, I had blamed him for everything that went wrong, even things he had no control over. He was guilty through his absence, and his futile death only confirmed it.

“He drove into a ditch and hit a tree. My mom told me he was drunk at the time.”

“Did she tell you he had a brother?”

“No.”

“You didn’t know you had another uncle, did you? I went to see him. He has a family and three kids about your age. You can visit them if you want; they wanna see you.”

I shook my head vigorously. “I’d rather not.”

“It’s your decision. If you want to learn more about your dad, then this is the way to go. You have family out there other than Don and Sue.”

“Maybe when I’m older. I’m not sure. This is a lot for me to take in.”

Jo smiled and hugged me. Then she stepped back. “That didn’t happen, okay, kid? We’re not supposed to have any physical contact with patients.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell. You know, when my mom told me that he died, I wasn’t upset. I didn’t cry or tell anyone, not even Tom. But I was angry. I hated him more than ever because it meant he would never be able to make it up to me.”

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I convinced myself that he would show up one day. That was all it would have taken for me to forgive him. When he died, he took away my dream.”

Jo was right; I had spent too much of my childhood analysing my relationship with this man, making excuses for his absence, and then blaming myself for other people’s mistakes. I needed to get him out of my head. There was no reason for me to be angry with him anymore or bottle up my emotions.

“I brought you here to prove to you that he did exist,” said Jo. “Even if you can’t remember him. You need to close this chapter now, kid.”

She ruffled my hair and then walked away to make an important call. It was an excuse to give me some time on my own, although I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do.

“You hurt me,” I mumbled under my breath. “Why didn’t you call me? I needed you, but you never even tried to see me. Maybe things would have been different if my mom hadn’t left you. Maybe you would still be here, and I wouldn’t have to put up with Don. I don’t even know why I’m talking to a dead person, but yeah, I guess it wasn’t all your fault, and I suppose I don’t hate you anymore.”

I waited a few seconds as if expecting to hear a reply, then glanced around—suddenly embarrassed by the thought of talking to a grave—but there was no one there. I said what I needed to say, made my peace the best I could, and now I wanted to go home.

I was pleased to get away from that place, and although I understood why she wanted me to go, I had no intention of ever going back there.

The journey home was tranquil and emotional. It was my final session with Jo, and I probably should have been pleased; after all, I was one of her success stories. But, instead, when she pulled up outside my house, I didn’t want to get out of her car.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“No, you won’t, kid. You’ve got too many other things to keep you occupied. I’m just a counsellor, someone you don’t need anymore. But if ever you do, I’ll be here for you.”

“I kinda hope I don’t, but I know someone who might need help. I can’t tell you at the moment because he’s sworn me to secrecy, but it has something to do with Mr Symmonds.”

Jo looked intrigued and as I opened the car door, she grabbed my shoulder, preventing me from leaving. “I don't get to choose who I get to help, Robbie. So this person will need to confide in a teacher of social worker first.”

I nodded as I climbed out of her car. “He's frightened but I’m working on it.”

“Just make sure you stay away from Symmonds.”

“I will don’t worry.” I closed the door then tapped on the window for her to open it so I could lean in. “You know, you look a lot like my mom, only she didn’t have purple hair or piercings. I wanted to tell you that from the first day we met.”

For once, Jo seemed lost for words. “Well, that’s kinda cool, I guess. I didn’t think anyone looked like me. You have my number. Call me if you need me.”

Jo winked at me, and I waved at her as she drove away. Then she was gone, and right on cue, as I turned towards the house, I saw the curtain move and a large shadowy figure walking away from the upstairs bedroom window.