“’Oribble what happened to you,” she said.
Though I didn’t owe her anything, I found myself offering her a thin-lipped smile in response.
“Is this ’im then?” She indicated with her chin, moving her acne-scarred face in Aiden’s direction. When Aiden didn’t react she waved her arm in the general direction of her kids and ushered them closer to her. “Sick what happened to ’im.”
The blood whooshed in my ears as I tried to remain calm. What right did this woman have to bring up the things that had happened to Aiden? Who did she think she was? I tried to ignore her, but found myself rubbing my hands more frantically than before. I gritted my teeth, clenching my jaw harder and harder.
“Kieran, come ’ere,” she said, gathering her brood, clearly wanting them away from Aiden. Every now and then her eyes flicked over to Aiden and I saw fear in them. Perhaps she thought Aiden had been turned into a monster by what he had been through. Maybe she thought he was going to harm her children, in some sort of by-proxy paedophilia.
While she manoeuvred her children away from us, I found that I couldn’t stop staring at her. She had a greasy ponytail pulled back so tightly it gave her skin a stretched, glossy appearance. She openly swore at her children when they misbehaved.
“What makes you so special?”
The room went very quiet. An elderly man placed his newspaper back down on his lap and turned towards me. I hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, and certainly not with as much venom as I’d uttered them. But looking at that woman I couldn’t believe she’d been given the gift of normal, healthy children, when my child had been to hell and back.
“Excuse me, love?” she said, in her rasping, ugly voice.
“I said, what makes you so special? Why do you get to have everything?”
“What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean, eh?”
I turned my head away, scowling at the health pamphlets and a poster about heart disease. The doctor called my name and I stood. With Aiden following me, I walked straight past the woman and tried my best not to look at her again.
“I only tried to be nice to you, miserable cow,” she muttered, which I figured was typical of the British public. They want gratitude for caring. A little boy was kidnapped and tortured for a decade and they feel sad about it. Good for them. So after feeling all this sadness, they see the boy in question out with his mother, and they just have to tell them the obvious—they feel sad. Wasn’t it awful? Yes, yes, it’s very sad and it’s very awful, thank you for feeling like that. But if you don’t placate them, then fuck you and your son. Fuck right off, you deserve it.
No one is as fickle as the public, and the reason they’re that fickle is that the media tell them how to think and how to feel. Why else are talent shows packed full of sweeping emotional music edited just right to make youfeelthe pain and heartbreak when a hopeful doesn’t get through? Why else are shots of tearful audience members shown during a sad rendition of a song or a tragic backstory retelling? It’s allmanufacturedto make you buy things. Whether it’s a car or a lifestyle or a newspaper, you’re buying it because you’re buying thestory,and that is the truth of it all. When I lost my cool at that woman, I shattered the story she’d bought into. I made her reconsider what she thought was true.
But I didn’t resent people for buying into Aiden’s story. I didn’t begrudge them their sadness over his tragic life. What I hated was the idea that I had to be perfect and if I wasn’t perfect, then they weren’t sad for me anymore. I hated and resented that. I was in pain and I was allowed to snap or make mistakes or do whatever the hell I wanted. I was a human being, not a story, and the world forgot that.
As I passed that woman on the way to my GP’s office, I thought all of that and more. A heavy tiredness seeped into my bones, and I wondered when—or if—this would all be over and I could get into a normal life.
“Hi, Emma, how are you today? Hello, Aiden.” She didn’t miss a beat and I was glad for it. I’d had the same doctor since I was a baby—Dr Fiona Watson—and over that time she’d been a constant, albeit in a professional capacity. They hadn’t been friends, Mum and Fiona, but they’d respected each other, and Mum would have been pleased that Fiona had taken over the running of the surgery after she died.
“As well as to be expected.”
“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but it’s a pleasure to see Aiden again.” She smiled at Aiden but he didn’t react. Her eyes dropped, and I was glad she didn’t bring any of it up again.
After some poking and prodding, Dr Watson sighed. “Your blood pressure is high. Now, you had some high blood pressure after Aiden… after the flood. I think it’s stress again. I’m going to prescribe you the same tablets you took back then. They’re safe for pregnant women to use. The little one been giving you any gip?”
“She’s a kicker,” I said. “But apart from that she seems fine.”
“Have you been to see your midwife recently? Have you got anything set up for the birth?”
“I had some blood taken a few months back and we discussed it then. This last week has been a whirlwind.”
She nodded. “You did the right thing coming to me.” She scribbled on a pad of paper and tore the top sheet away. “Try and get your feet up if you can. I know it’s hard given everything that’s happened, but it’s important. Is Jake looking after you?”
I smiled. “Yeah, of course he is. He’s been great.”
She nodded. “I’m really sorry about what’s happened. If…” she paused, and I could see she was struggling with the desire to maintain professionalism and seeing a person before her whom she had known for over thirty years. “If you need anything, I’m here.”
I thanked her and hurried out of the office, afraid I might begin to cry again. I was sick of crying.
When I left the surgery, the woman and her kids were gone. But when I reached my Focus in the carpark, there was a scratch running all along the length of the car.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Iheld off from driving like a maniac on the way to the pharmacy, even though the adrenaline running through my veins begged for speed. I’d never been a careless driver, but when my stress levels were high, I wanted nothing more than to put my foot down on the accelerator and drive as far and as fast as I could. But I wouldn’t do that with Aiden in the car.
