Junk - Melvin Burgess [18]
It was like, just me and Mum. We barely saw Dad; he was out in the morning and again in the evening. He didn’t care so long as he got his dinner all right. She was always telling me how she didn’t know how she’d cope without me. She made a real fuss of me. I liked it. It would have worked but… my mum, she’s such a shyster.
I mean, she didn’t have to bother after that, see. At first I was just helping her. But… I started coming home and she’d be lying dead drunk on the settee next to a pile of ironing or something and beg me to do it because Dad needed his shirts and he’d be furious if she hadn’t done them. I didn’t mind the work, but I knew she was just using me. The thing that really annoyed me was, when she was going out somewhere, or when someone was coming round, she managed to get it together then. The house would be cleaned then. The shopping would be in then. But if it was just me and Dad, she never lifted a finger.
It started to get me into trouble. One day I was sitting in maths trying to write a shopping list and Mr Webster the maths master caught me.
‘Well, at least you can add up properly,’ he said. I guess he knew what was going on because he smiled and gave it back to me. But he must have told the headmaster or someone and someone obviously got in touch with Mum and Dad at home.
I got home a couple of days later and they were both there waiting for me, dead drunk, both of them. They were furious. He was going on at me for doing her work and interfering and encouraging her to drink. He was going on at her for using me like a skivvy and interfering with my education, and she was screaming at him for getting between her and her son and telling me how much she relied on me and needed me while she was ill.
She was really drunk. She started clinging on to me. She does that. She wraps her arms round me and starts moaning and crying and tells me how much she loves me, and I have to help her stand up. It’s horrible. And then… Dad just really lost his temper. He was suddenly coming at both of us with his arms out and his eyes bulging. I thought he was going to kill her. She ducked behind me and I got it right on the side of the face. He knocked me flying. I was just getting up to see if Mum was okay when he came in with the boot…
It was me he was after, all the time! I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t understand it. He kicked me right round the room. Mum was lying next to the table while it was going on. I saw her find a can of lager and take a swig. Then she got up and flung herself at him and he left me alone after that and went running upstairs. I heard him charge out of the house a moment later and start up the car. Mum was dabbing at my cuts with a flannel. They made me spend a week off school but I was still bruised when I went in the next Monday. No one ever complained to my mum and dad again.
The thing I could never work out was what he was getting at me for. I mean, if it was Mum, that’d be normal. I’m not saying I wish it had been her, but I could have understood what was going on. So why me?
I still can’t work it out.
Things improved for a bit but then it started up again. Dad really used to hate me doing the housework for some reason, so I used to try and get it done before he came home. That way he might think she had done it. So Mum left more and more of it to me, and she was getting drunk earlier and earlier and I felt guilty because I was giving her less to do. They were having more and more rows and I was getting beat up more often…
That’s why I left. The trouble is… she depended on me. See? I kept thinking of the rows they must be having. I kept thinking about how angry he was going to get, how he’d tell her she’d driven me away…
Vonny offered to come with me for the phone call, but I felt I had to do it on my own – I don’t know why. It was a mistake, really. If only I’d followed what Gemma said