The Way We Were Read online

  Ben imagined the faces of the ‘posh’ parents when they heard that story. ‘I take it that didn’t endear you to them.’ He grinned at Declan.

  Declan whooped. ‘You can say that again. My leg was black and blue from Gwen kicking me under the table to shut me up. I knew after that weekend it was over. I’d never fit in. Pity, she was a lovely girl, but as my dad always said, there are plenty more fish in the sea. Mind you, he never got together with anyone after my mother left. Always said he was too busy working and raising us. I’d like him to meet someone. It’d be nice for him now we’ve all left home. The good thing is that all my brothers and Carol live near him and there are loads of grandkids, so he’s hardly ever alone.’

  ‘My mother died nineteen years ago. My father met someone else just a few years ago.’

  ‘Do you like her?’ Declan asked.

  Ben thought about it. Did he like Helen? She was pleasant but cold. Ben’s mother had been warm, loving, and had doted on him. She’d wanted more children, but Ben’s birth had been complicated and she’d ended up having a hysterectomy.

  Ben remembered how his mother’s eyes had lit up when he walked into a room. Sometimes as a teenager it had been a little claustrophobic and he had felt smothered, but he’d known she couldn’t help it. She had so much love to give and only one child to give it to. He was twenty-six when she received a diagnosis of ovarian cancer. Ten weeks later she was dead.

  Ben had simply disappeared into studying and working while his father – a stalwart of the stiff-upper-lip generation – pretended everything was fine. Alice had been there to comfort Ben and she’d been wonderful. With Alice, he could cry and talk about how much he missed his mother.

  Ben, in his naïveté, thought his father was actually fine. Until one day he’d come back early from the hospital. They’d sent him home after he’d cut his hand open with a scalpel. When he’d opened the front door, he’d heard a noise coming from the kitchen. He’d gone in through the open door and had seen his father sitting at the table, sobbing over his wedding photos.

  Ben had never seen his father cry, not even at his mother’s funeral. Everyone kept saying how brave Harold was, how strong. They said it was his army background. He had fought in the Falklands war and been awarded a medal for bravery. Ben always thought his father was invincible. He knew his father loved him, but he had never been demonstrative. Like so many sons and fathers, there was a physical awkwardness between them.

  The sound of his father’s sobs ripped through Ben’s heart. He froze. He didn’t know what to do. Should he tiptoe by and leave him to grieve in peace, or should he go over and put an arm around him?

  Taking a deep breath, Ben said, ‘Dad?’

  Harold’s back went rigid. Ben approached his father tentatively and laid a hand on his shoulder. Looking at the photos, he said softly, ‘I miss her too.’

  His father nodded stiffly. He stood up, shrugging Ben’s hand off, and wiped his eyes roughly, then packed away the photos. Still not facing his son, he said, ‘Well, that’s enough of that. I was tidying up and … well … there you are. Right, I’ll just put them away.’ He’d brushed past Ben and the moment was lost.

  That was probably the closest they’d got to grieving together. One of the things Ben loved most about Alice was her freedom with her emotions. She didn’t hide them or keep them in, she let them out. When something moved her, she cried, not like a Disney princess but in a loud, werewolf kind of way.

  Strangely, though, when Alice’s parents were killed, she hadn’t cried that much. She’d got very low, and Ben had been really worried about her.

  The tragedy had toughened Alice, though. She rarely cried at films any more. She was stronger and less emotional – except when it came to the girls: she worried about their whereabouts all the time. She liked to have her family close. Ben understood that, but sometimes it felt a little claustrophobic. If he didn’t answer her phone calls quickly, she’d panic. She had got better over the years but still had a tendency to believe the worst was going to happen.

  Thinking about her now, Ben felt bad about not calling that morning. He knew she’d be worried. He’d try to call her from the landline at the clinic.

  ‘Ben?’ Declan waved his hand in front of Ben’s face.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away. Yes, I do like Helen. She’s a nice lady and she looks after my father well.’

  ‘You’re lucky. I’d really like my dad to meet someone. He deserves a bit of love. We tried to set him up with a few local women, but it didn’t work out. The first date was when Eddie lined up Marion from the bookie’s, but it was a disaster. She’s known as the local bike. She’d ride anything. Eddie said he was just trying to get Dad laid. But sure Dad wasn’t able for her at all. When she pulled out a pair of handcuffs he locked himself into the toilet and called Eddie to come and get her out of the flat.’

  Ben laughed. ‘Maybe he should have started with someone a bit less … enthusiastic.’

  Declan grinned. ‘You English public-school boys, you make everything sound really nice and tasteful. I would have said “slutty” but you said “enthusiastic”. I love it!’

  ‘At least they teach us something for the astronomical fees they charge.’

  ‘True. My school was the local national school. There were forty-three kids in my class. The main thing you learnt was how to survive the day without being punched in the face, having your lunch nicked or your head shoved down the toilet. Only four of us went on to college.’

  ‘Why did you decide on medicine?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Because I wanted to save people and make the world a better place.’

  ‘Right.’

  Declan thumped Ben’s arm. ‘I’m joking. Our local doctor lived in the nicest house and drove the nicest car. I wanted that. Also, to be fair, I found the science subjects the easiest. What about you?’

  Ben looked out of the window at the increasingly barren landscape as the car continued to climb. ‘I actually did want to save people and make the world a better place.’

  ‘Oh.’ Declan looked sheepish.

  Now it was Ben’s turn to thump Declan’s arm. ‘Gotcha! Casualty was my mother’s favourite show. I used to watch it with her all the time. I decided that I wanted to be the guy in the scrubs, saving lives and shagging pretty nurses.’

  ‘How did that go for you?’ Declan asked.

  ‘Pretty well, until I met Alice.’

  ‘What age were you then?’

  ‘Twenty-five. She was a med student, too.’

  ‘A gorgeous med student from Dublin. I need one of those.’

  Ben smiled, turned his eyes back to the road – and screamed, ‘Declan!’

  Fifty yards in front of them, a jeep was blocking the road. Four men dressed in army fatigues were standing beside it, pointing guns directly at them.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Declan slammed on the brakes.

  Their car skidded to a halt in front of the jeep.

  ‘Let me do the talking,’ Declan said.

  ‘What do they want? I have some money.’ Ben reached for his bag, when a gun went off. His heart leapt.

  ‘OUT! OUT!’ the gunmen shouted, coming up to the car and yanking the doors open.

  Ben and Declan were dragged out of the Fiat. Ben instinctively put his hands in the air. ‘We’re doctors,’ he said.

  ‘We’re here to help your people,’ Declan explained. ‘We’re going to the St Marco clinic. We’re here to help,’ he repeated.

  The oldest man stepped forward. He was about forty, tall and broad. He had an air of authority about him. The other three were in their early twenties. They looked to him for instructions.

  ‘I know who you are,’ the leader said, in surprisingly good English. ‘I know you are here to operate on Minister Kidane. But I need a doctor. My son is injured. You come with me to save my son.’

  Two of the soldiers began to push them towards the jeep, while the other rifled through their bags. Ben saw him throwing their passports
onto the ground beside the car. They took the money out of their wallets, then tossed them onto the ground, with Ben’s camera and laptop.

  ‘Hold on,’ Ben said. ‘Why can’t you bring your son to the clinic? We can treat him there.’

  The leader shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. If I bring my son to the clinic, he will be arrested. You come with us now.’

  ‘After we’ve treated your son, will you let us go?’ Ben asked. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding, but his voice sounded calm.

  The leader shrugged. ‘If he survives, maybe.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going.’ Declan sat down on the road.

  The leader shoved the butt of his rifle into Declan’s chest. ‘Get into the car or I will shoot you.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Declan said, trying to seem unmoved, but as he stood, his legs buckled. Ben reached out to catch him.

  ‘It’s okay – we just need to stay calm.’

  ‘Screw that! This is not an “unfortunate event”, Ben, this is a “fucking disaster”.’

  Ben gripped Declan’s arm. ‘Getting yourself shot isn’t going to help. Now shut up and stop antagonizing them.’

  They were hustled into the jeep while the youngest of the men doused their Fiat in petrol and threw something into it. As they drove away they heard an explosion. They looked back to see their car engulfed in a ball of fire.

  Declan looked at Ben. ‘We’re fucked,’ he whispered.

  Holly

  Daddy’s dead. The man rang Mummy to tell her eight hours, twenty-six minutes and eight seconds ago.

  Jools was blowing out her candles and the phone rang and Mummy fell down and Uncle Kevin spoke to the man and he said, ‘Daddy’s dead and so is the other man, Declan.’

  Mummy didn’t want us to know about the car exploding. She told us it was a car crash, but Jools and I heard her talking to Kevin later. They were in the kitchen and me and Jools were supposed to be getting ready for bed, but how could we? How could we just get ready for bed as if it was a normal day? We sat on the floor outside the kitchen door, listening.

  Mummy kept crying and saying they thought it was a landmine and why was Daddy such a fool and why did he have to go off into the mountains to find some stupid clinic? Why couldn’t he just have stayed in the hotel and let Declan go to the clinic by himself? She screamed and screamed about Daddy being selfish and a bad word that starts with B, and running away from us to find adventure. She cried and cried and said, ‘Why weren’t we enough? Why did he have to go chasing danger? Why … why … why?’

  Then she shouted that there wasn’t even a body to bury. Jools put her arms around me after that bit and we cried together. I cried quietly, but Jools cries like Mummy, very loudly.

  Kevin heard her and came out. He pulled us into a big hug. Mummy came out, too, and held us so tightly I could hardly breathe, but I didn’t mind. It made me stop thinking about the pain in my head for a minute. I felt as if it was going to burst open and my brain was going to fall out.

  Mummy and Kevin kept saying, ‘It’s going to be all right,’ over and over again. But it isn’t. It’s the opposite of all right. It’s all wrong.

  Then Mummy’s phone rang again and she had to talk to other people from the Foreign and Commonwealth Office for a long time. And then John Lester called and I could hear Mummy shouting, ‘This is your fault! You sent him to Eritrea and now he’s dead!’

  I felt a bit sorry for John Lester because he didn’t make Daddy go. Daddy wanted to go. I could see how happy he was when he talked about his trip. He was all smiley, like he used to be. So it was a bit mean of Mummy to shout at John Lester.

  I said so to Kevin, but he said I wasn’t to worry, that Mummy needed to shout a bit and that John Lester would understand. Then under his breath he said, ‘Stupid bad-word-beginning-with-F do-good surgeon.’ He didn’t think I heard him say that, but I did.

  Kevin helped me into my pyjamas and told me to try and sleep. He said he knew I probably wouldn’t and that he’d check on me every twenty minutes. Jools came in and said she wanted to sleep with me. We cuddled up in my small bed and cried.

  We couldn’t sleep so I got up and Googled ‘landmine’. One million three hundred and ten thousand results came up. I went to Wikipedia and read it out to Jools: ‘A landmine is an explosive device, concealed under or on the ground and designed to destroy or disable enemy targets, ranging from combatants to vehicles and tanks, as they pass over or near the device.’

  Jools put her hands over her ears and screamed at me to stop. She was sobbing into my pillow, covering it with tears and snot. She said I was never to say the word ‘landmine’ again.

  I promised I wouldn’t. Then I counted to twenty and asked her to give me my pillow so I could change the cover.

  She said I was a freak to be worried about tears on a pillow when Daddy had just died. I said I wasn’t worried about the tears, I was worried about the snot. Jools shouted that she didn’t want to sleep with me because I was a lunatic and she went out, slamming my door behind her. Kevin came up. His eyes were all puffy and red. He asked me why Jools was shouting. When I told him what had happened, he smiled and said he would definitely have wanted to change the pillowcase too. He helped me find a clean one and then he went in to talk to Jools.

  I went downstairs to see if Mummy was okay. I peeped in the kitchen door. She was kneeling on the floor, talking, I thought to herself, but then I realized she was talking to God and she was telling Him that He was cruel. I went over to her and put my arms around her.

  She kissed my hands. I told her I loved her, then cried into her back. I think I might have put some snot there as well as tears. Then I felt even worse and cried harder.

  Mummy pulled me around and sat me on her lap. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here for you. Mummy’s here.’

  At twenty-six minutes past one I got into bed. Kevin tucked me in and told me that I had to try really hard to sleep, or I’d ‘get sick’.

  It’s forty-seven minutes past two and I’m still awake. I think my heart is breaking. I just can’t believe it – Daddy’s dead. My daddy, my lovely daddy, who always told me I was special. Daddy, who hugged me and swung me around when I did well at school. Daddy, who tickled me until I screamed. Daddy, who said I was the best thing that ever happened to him. Daddy, who said he loved me more than all the stars and the moon and the world and the universe. Daddy, who helped me build a replica of Titanic for my school project and I won first prize. Daddy, who said I could be prime minister of the UK and make the country a better place. Daddy, who made me feel special every day. My daddy. Gone.

  Alice

  Alice woke up. Her eyes felt heavy and sore. She tried opening them, but the lids only moved a fraction. What was going on? She must have picked up conjunctivitis from a patient. She rubbed her eyes and they felt sore, but they opened. She turned to look at the clock and saw Jools lying beside her.

  It hit her like a ton of bricks. BEN! She gasped for breath. NO no no no no no, God, please, no. It must have been a dream, just a bad dream. She closed her eyes. Maybe she was still dreaming. But the pain in her chest was suffocating.

  She looked at Jools. Her daughter’s face was red and puffy, and she was whimpering in her sleep. It all came toppling down on Alice. It was real. Ben was dead.

  The events of the night before came flooding back. Clipped accents from the Foreign and Commonwealth Office telling her about probable landmines and passports found at the site of the explosion and Ben’s wallet and how they would send his personal effects home to her but unfortunately there would be no body because of the magnitude of the explosion. There was no point in coming out: Eritrea was no place for a woman and two young girls, and Ben had been a ‘good man’ and a ‘credit to her and to his profession’ and on and on.

  Alice knew Ben was a good man. He was a really good man, but he was also a selfish man, who had gone on a trip to assuage his mid-life crisis, and now he was dead and she was a … a … widow. Alic
e bit her lip and sobbed quietly into her pillow. She didn’t want to wake Jools.

  Her brain teemed with the questions that had been constantly whirling around in her head since that awful phone call. Why, Ben? Why? We had a good life, two beautiful girls and a lovely home. Why did you have to risk it all? Alice stuffed her pillow into her mouth to smother the sounds of her wailing, but her body was shaking uncontrollably.

  Jools woke up. ‘What’s … where … why … Mum?’ she stuttered, opening her bleary eyes.

  Alice watched her daughter, dreading the moment when the awful realization kicked in. Jools blinked, looked around and then Alice saw it, the frown, the shake of the head, the eyes widening, and then the look of horror.

  ‘MUM! Is it … did Dad … is … Oh, my God!’

  Alice put her arms out and Jools fell into them. ‘Nooooooo, Mummy, please say it isn’t true. Please tell me I dreamt it.’

  Alice held her in a tight embrace and rocked her. ‘I’m sorry, pet, I’m so sorry.’

  Jools cried as if her heart would break. Alice felt as if hers already had.

  While Alice tried to comfort her, she could hear Kevin talking to Holly in the next room. He had slept in her room so he could be there for her if she woke up during the night.

  ‘Kevin?’ Alice heard Holly ask.

  ‘Yes, angel?’

  ‘Do you think Daddy’s in Heaven?’

  Alice knew that Kevin had forsaken all religion at a young age, but he knew the girls were being raised Catholic and was good enough to play along.

  ‘I think he’d be the first man in the door. Your dad was a great person.’

  Holly began to cry. ‘Please don’t say “was”. Using the past tense makes me feel like it’s all over.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sweetie, your dad is a great man. Come here to me.’

  Alice thanked God for her brother.

  Jools pulled away. ‘What are we going to do without Dad?’