The Shadow House(82)

‘But even with new machinery, bigger buildings, new advertising, we still kept sinking – and the debt kept stacking up. I missed deadline after deadline. Whatever I borrowed, the lenders asked for double back. They threatened me, said they’d make my life a living hell. That’s what all that shit was about – the cat, the paint, the phone calls, the trolling, the ridiculous fucken Christmas angel, it was them. They locked on to Gabe as leverage, they told me they would murder him – and I believed them, I thought they’d kill us all. They hung around the farm during the day, just stood in the trees, watching me. They never went away.’

‘I never knew any of this,’ Renee breathed. ‘How did I not know?’

Michael shrugged. ‘I made sure you didn’t. And you were so busy with Gabe.’

‘Because you were never there,’ she shot back.

‘Being a father wasn’t easy for me, Ren.’

‘You never tried.’

‘That’s not true. I tried very hard. But Gabe … there was just no respect. No matter what I did, the kid just flat out ignored me. It drove me up the fucken wall.’ A fleck of spit flew from Michael’s mouth and he wiped his chin with his sleeve. ‘I tried to kick his arse like my old man had kicked mine, but nothing I did made a difference. The kid just sat in his room like a king, had everything delivered to him on a silver platter. All he had to do was pull a sad face and you’d come running. And there I was, drowning in debt, spending money I didn’t have, paying farmhands to help me out because my own son refused to leave his room!’ Michael’s mouth curled with disgust. ‘Little shit never thought about anyone but himself.’

The axe swayed at Renee’s side, the worn end of the handle smooth under her palm. She pictured her son’s face, the crease between his eyebrows when he frowned. The time he’d sketched the dog, the time he’d made a model tractor. How he’d held them up for his father to see. Look, Daddy.

‘It was humiliating.’ Michael jabbed his finger in the air. ‘He made me look weak. And I guess a part of me was jealous. I never wanted to work on the farm. I hated the fucken place, but I wasn’t allowed to slack off – and then I ended up having to run the joint, even though I was no fucken good at it.’

He took a breath and seemed to sag. The air crackled with residual rage, little particles of fury with nowhere to go.

‘On Gabe’s birthday, I just snapped. He wouldn’t come out of his room as usual – but then in walks Dom Hassop and all he had to do was knock. It was like they’d planned it together. And Gabe just stood there, all innocent, making everyone feel sorry for him, and it made me so mad that I …’

Michael’s eyes went to what used to be Gabriel’s bedroom door. He sucked in a big, wet breath. ‘I lay awake all night, fuming. At some point, I went in there, where he was sleeping. I woke him up and took it all out on him. I told him he was lazy and selfish, that I wished he’d never been born. That I wished he’d just fuck off and leave us alone. I made him cry, and it felt good.’

He sucked in a shaky breath. ‘You don’t know how much I wish I could take it back. No kid deserves his father’s contempt; I should know that more than anyone.’

As if Michael’s words had unlocked a certain magic, Renee could suddenly see everything she’d missed back then: her husband’s secrecy, his slow disintegration before her eyes. Their son, buckling under the weight of his rage. And her parents, whispering outside his door, making everything worse: Your soul is in trouble, Gabriel. The devil has his sights on you.

She sagged against the wall, her heart pointlessly beating in her chest. She wished it would stop and give her some peace.

‘The loan sharks …’ Renee murmured. ‘It was them? They took him?’

But Michael shook his head. ‘No, Renee. That’s just it. They didn’t.’

‘They must have.’

‘No,’ said Michael. ‘Gabriel left of his own free will.’

‘How could you possibly know that?’

‘Because I saw him.’

Renee couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry as sand. Her jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. She began to shiver.

‘On the night he disappeared,’ Michael said, ‘I woke up for what I thought was no reason. My eyes just snapped open. I heard a noise outside, so I got up and looked out of the window. And he was there, on the driveway, fully dressed with a bag on his back, as if he was just off to school. He was looking at the house.’ He made a small, strangled sound. ‘I think he saw me. I was sure he looked right at me. And then he left. He just turned around and walked away into the dark. And I let him.’

‘No.’ Renee lifted a hand to touch the bolt that was currently drawn securely across the bedroom door. ‘How – how did he get out? The lock on his door …’

‘The window. He must’ve forced the latch.’

Renee closed her eyes. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she whispered. ‘You were dreaming. Or it was someone else. Did you actually see his face?’

‘It was him,’ Michael barrelled over the top of her words, his voice heavy and firm. ‘I was worried at first, like everyone else. But then I felt relieved. I thought about the life Gabe might be able to have if he wasn’t tied to this place, to me. I thought about how miserable he’d been, how much better off he’d be. All the times I’d thought about leaving at his age but never had the guts. I thought, Good on him.’