Reconciled - 13. Chapter 13

The incessant ringing on the doorbell forced Arran to jump up and bound down the stairs. What the hell was going on?

"Hold on!" he called out loudly.

When he reached the front door he was surprised to see Salem and even more surprised by the distressed state he was in.

"You took long enough," Salem complained, tears still smudged across his face.

Arran beckoned him in and closed the door. "What happened to you?"

"My fuckhead brother! What else?"

"What did he do?"

Salem lost it. He couldn't help himself, couldn't keep it in anymore. Tears clouded his eyes and he started sobbing uncontrollably. Arran pulled him into a hug and ushered him along the hall to the kitchen, still holding him. Feeling his body shake and tremble.

"Tom!" Salem managed to say in between bouts of tears.

Hearing Tom's name sent a wave of panic through Arran. He got Salem to sit down and he stood there next to him, waiting.

"They bundled him in a van and raped him."

That sentence was so monotone it didn't quite register. Arran wondered if he heard it right, but he knew he had. "They what?"

Salem sobbed into his arms, his head lowered on the table. Arran waited. He gripped the boy's shoulder and squeezed. Stopping crying, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffled. He began, almost inaudibly at first, to recount what had happened that afternoon.

Arran did not interrupt him.

"Last I saw, he was in the ambulance. I can't go home. Achim will know. He'll kill me. He'll know it was me. I ran out. I'm dead. He'll fucking kill me. What can I do?"

Arran hugged him, squeezing him close.

He set to work organising a meal, which meant phoning for takeaway pizza. It was either that or a ready-made microwave meal, because Arran was not a cook. He had next to no idea about cooking, leaving aside egg and bacon, or cheese on toast. Whilst they sat there waiting for the pizza, Arran engaged Salem in conversation. General stuff as he tried to steer away from either his family and Achim or what had happened. Despite his efforts he kept thinking about Tom and didn't know what to do. How could he find out if Tom was injured or where he was? How could he talk to him?

He called Tom's home, but the only reply was from the answering machine. The pizza arrived and they both ate barely one slice. Arran had no appetite and neither did Salem. There was one thing he could do though.

"Salem, you can stay here," he told him.

The boy looked at him and Arran saw the relief in his eyes, before more tears started flowing, little wet lines sliding down his face. Arran lightly touched his cheeks and wiped away the tears, then hugged him tightly.

"I'll speak to my dad. I'm sure you can stay the whole weekend."

Salem simply stared, but said nothing. It, of course, entered his head, what about after? But for now he was grateful. Maybe, he would leave after the weekend. Go. Far away. As far as he could go.

"I'll work something out," Arran said, as if he too had similar thoughts. "If you can't go home we'll work it out. You can stay here. If you got nowhere to go."

They both heard the front door open, which made Salem physically jump up.

"Arran, you home?" His dad called out.

A minute later he was in the kitchen looking from Arran to Salem. "Michael, isn't it?"

"Michael's staying the weekend. If that's okay? Tom's had an accident and his mum's at the hospital. I said he could."

Arran's father took a better look at the young boy and saw he was upset, and must have been crying.

"That's fine. Are you sure everything is alright? I mean, if you want..."

"No, dad. It's fine. Or will be."

Arran's father gave them both a little smile and nodded. "Arran, I do need to talk to you. It's important. Some things to sort out with you.

Salem stood up. "I'll go. If you need to talk to your dad."

"No, no," Arran told him. "You're staying here, I told you already. Go upstairs, okay. We won't be long. You can wait in my bedroom. Wash, if you want. You'll find clean towels in the bathroom cupboard."

"Well, you seem to have everything under control," John said.

Arran smiled at his father. "And you?"

"Exactly what I want to talk about. I am planning on going away, depending on you. You're seventeen, nearly eighteen, and you're fine looking after yourself. I can trust you. So, if you're okay with it, you can stay here whilst I'm away. I'm talking months, not a week or so. If you don't like the idea, I'll talk to your mother, see if she can put you up. I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem either."

This was a surprise and got Arran thinking quickly. The house to himself, sounded great.

"But, all the bills and all that?"

His father smiled at him. "Of course, I'm paying the bills. I'll give you an allowance for food, clothes, whatever, and you can call me if anything else comes up."

"How long? I mean you're going where?"

"Let's call it an opportunity. Belgium. I've a job offer. And, to be honest with you, I would welcome the change. Putting everything behind us. How long? Not sure. If I said six months and we see how things work out. You'll turn eighteen and," he smiled broadly, "you'll be an adult."

Arran returned his smile. "You mean I'm not already?"

"Not legally. But you're right, you are. More important I trust you not to have wild parties and to be responsible."

"Wild parties! Now there's an idea."

"So what do you think?"

Arran nodded. "You go for it. I'll be fine. Actually, more than fine. I like the idea."

"Thought you might. You better go see to Michael. Looks like he could use a friend."

Arran got up to leave, then turned back. "When is all this going to happen?"

"I'm sorting the details this weekend. I'll be out, but back Sunday, and probably leaving Tuesday. Is that too quick?"

"Nah, it's fine."

Arran went upstairs to find Salem.

Salem used the bathroom and washed his face. At the same time he was looking around and looking at himself in the mirror. The face that stared back at him gave no answers to the questions in his head. He turned away and wandered into the bedroom, walking around, before sitting, then lying on the bed.

He could hear Arran and his father talking downstairs, they must have left the door open, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He lay back, folding his arms behind his head, and looking up at the ceiling.

The phone rang and Arran's father picked up.

"Oh, hello. This is Tom. Is Arran there?"

"Yes, he's upstairs with your brother. I'll get him."

Tom heard the receiver hit the table and Arran's dad call out. Then it registered, my brother! What?

"Tom! What... You okay? Where are you? What happened?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tom told him. "How's my brother?"

"I... I'll explain. What happened?"

"Never mind. I need you to do something."

"Sure. Anything."

"Find Salem. I'm really worried about him."

Arran smiled to himself, he couldn't help it. "He's here. He's fine."

"He's with you?"

"That's what I said, dumbo. He came over. All shaken up, crying. Beside himself about what happened. Blaming himself. Terrified to go back home."

Arran thought he could hear Tom taking deep breaths. He was sure he wasn't imagining it.

"That's just it," Tom said. "He mustn't go home, 'coz Achim will be there."

"Don't worry. He's staying here and as far as I know Achim has no idea where I live."

There was a definite audible sigh of relief from the other end of the line.

"And you? What's happening?"

Tom explained briefly what Arran already knew from Salem, with one major very important addition.

"I wasn't raped, or anything. The cavalry arrived to save the day."

"I don't know how you can be so casual about it," Arran told him.

"I don't know either. Anyhow, I'll maybe see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, you have to come over. Salem needs you."

"Are you sure about that. I mean he's got you."

"He needs you, Tom. I'm sure."