The Shadow House(41)

In hitching our family’s wagon to Stuart’s, I realised, I’d desensitised my son. I’d taught him first-hand that women were to be disrespected. Disregarded. That treating them like shit was normal.

‘After I spoke to the principal, I went home to speak to Ollie. I found him playing some video game with Stu. They were both sitting on the couch in exactly the same position, both with the same gormless expression on their face, and I just thought, Okay, shit, I’m raising another one.’

I drank again, forcing the beer down past the knot in my throat and into my stomach. ‘A couple of days after that, I woke in the night to hear Kara crying. I got up, went to her room, and Stuart was in there. Just standing over her cot, watching her cry. He’d been out drinking, and there was this look on his face …’ I tipped the bottle and drained it. ‘I knew then that I hadn’t just put myself in danger, that all three of us were at risk. So I ran. Took the kids and left.’

‘You’re incredibly brave,’ Kit said, after a moment of quiet. ‘It takes a lot of courage to do something like that.’

I stared at the empty bottle in my lap. I didn’t think of myself as courageous. How was it brave to have watched my father belittle and control my mother for years, and then fail to recognise the very same pattern unfolding in my own life? No, if I’d had courage, I would’ve left much sooner. If I’d been brave, I would never have moved in with him in the first place, would never have forced my son to do the same. I’d never have given up my job, my friends – and I wouldn’t have stayed silent after the first night Stuart put his hand around my throat and held me against the wall.

But I did all of those things because, somehow, they made sense. They felt more normal, more reasonable than any of the alternatives. Right up until they didn’t.

And then, I did something to him.

But I decided not to tell Kit about that. Better he believed I was brave.

The sofa moved underneath me as Kit got up and fetched two more beers from the fridge. ‘Ollie’s lucky to have a mum like you,’ he said. ‘Someone who really cares.’

I shook my head. ‘I always thought I’d be better at it than I am. I thought I’d be a cool mum, happy to talk about drugs and sex and the best-slash-worst ways to sneak out of your bedroom window at night to go see a band. But it’s a different world now. I don’t know what I’m doing.’

Kit passed me a new beer.

‘This screen stuff is killing me,’ I continued. ‘I didn’t grow up with technology, I don’t know it like he does. It’s like he’s this alien, speaking a language that I don’t, growing up in a completely different universe, and yet I’m supposed to guide him through it.’

‘I can only imagine how hard it must be,’ Kit said. ‘But, you know, you’re probably not saying anything that your parents didn’t say. Or their parents.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, maybe tech isn’t entirely to blame. It’s not that scary.’

‘You sure about that?’ I thought about the dark web. ‘It seems pretty terrifying to me.’

‘Sure, but only as terrifying as anything else. The internet is just life with a megaphone. Everything that’s online can also be found offline. It’s all the same thing; the online version is just louder and shinier.’

‘And more accessible. And more addictive.’

‘There is that. But if it wasn’t tech, it’d be something else.’

‘Uh-huh.’ I took a long swig of beer. ‘Let’s chat again when you have kids, see if you still say the same.’

‘Sorry.’ He smiled. ‘That was a bit high-horsey of me. I’m just saying that the screen stuff doesn’t have to be so frightening.’

Well, you would say that; you’re just a child yourself.

The thought took me by surprise. I studied Kit’s face, looking for crow’s feet, scars, the telltale signs of gravity. How old are you? He studied me right back. I suddenly became very aware of how long I’d been talking and how much I’d said.

There was a beat, a shiver of anticipation, like the pause between a bolt of lightning and the inevitable roll of thunder.

And then Kit moved closer to me. Put his hand on mine. He was so close, I could see the detail in his eyes, the flecks of brown among the blue. They reminded me of the dam, of refracted sunlight and concealed depths.

‘Alex,’ he said. ‘I just want you to know …’

Closer, closer. He smelled of sunscreen and coconut shampoo. I could feel his breath against my skin. His features began to blur.

‘… that if you were mine, I’d never hurt you.’

Closer still. Just inches between us.

‘I would always protect you. I’d do anything to keep you safe, make you happy.’

He placed his hand on my cheek. His thumb brushed my jaw; his fingers found their way to the back of my neck. He tilted his head, his eyes on mine, seeking permission, Is this okay, can I, are we …

His lips touched mine, and it was like sliding into a warm bath, jumping off a cliff and flying, all at once. He smelled like holidays. He tasted of electricity. He was comfort and danger; a sharp bite, and a delicious slow burn.

I sank deep, lay back and left the world behind. Couldn’t get close enough. The coconut scent of him, hot breath on my neck, salt on my tongue. Intoxicating and terrifying, all at once.