Extra Time 11

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CHAPTER 11
That struck home, clearly, and after yet more repairs we made our way back to the others. Will looked up at me, an eyebrow raised, and I nodded.

“Your mam wants to say a few things, son”

There was a shift in the dynamics just then, as tense bodies subtly relaxed, and it was clear once more that there was a pack in the coffee shop. One had been attacked, and the others formed up to face down the threat. I caught James looking at his father.

“Is Von a friend, Dad?”

Terry smiled gently at him. “I don’t know, son. Some things must be waited for”

She sat down, in a chair that Karen had brought from another table.

“How…how are you, love?”

“Fine, Mam. These are good people. They look after me”

“When are you coming home?”

He sighed, and looked around us, hints of moisture in his eyes.

“I don’t know, Mam. Is it home anymore? With Bamps and all?”

That was a thought that clearly cut her to the bone. I could almost read her mind. He wasn’t playing the game, following the script. Mother and child argued, she declared her love, sobs, embraces, happy return to family home. She had clearly picked up on the ‘pack’ feeling, and there was a moment, as she looked around at us, when I saw understanding rise in her face. He was in the pack too. Will leant forward and took her hand, which was trembling.

“Mam, I love you. That doesn’t go away, not ever. But who I am, what I am, that doesn’t go away either”

He looked round us, meeting our gaze one after the other. Me, Larinda, Karen, James…He turned to me and gave just a hint of a nod.

“How did you get here, Mam?”

“I drove up, love. I don’t know what Bamps is doing, do I? Or…or what they will do to him”

One more, Will’s eyes made the rounds. “Can I come home with you?”

Rachel’s lips tightened, and I felt Larinda twitch, but Will held a hand up. “Look, how much of my life is ahead of me? Most of it. And…this is my Mam, yeah? Mam, look, shit–sorry–I am not suddenly going to be bringing boyfriends home, am I? To be honest, I’ve never, you know, well, never actually done anything with anyone at all, have I? Just…I want us to stay a family. Even Bamps. But I want some conditions first”

Larinda squeezed my hand twice, and I took the hint.

“Son, whatever you decide, we are all there for you, aye?”

He nodded. “Thank you, Jill. I know that. I think I’ve always known that bit about you. You don’t run away”

John surprised me yet again. “Jill, you have run away all of your life up to now. The thing you should be proud of, the thing that made me so foolish in the witness box, is that you knew when to stop running”

Rachel laughed gently. “John, how did we never see you, the real you, all those years in that office?”

He smiled, and for once it was normal, not the pinched, haunted effort I was so familiar with, not the shark’s-teeth grin he had shown at so many traders’ records.

“Because I was running as well, Rachel. The difference here is that…oh, I am sorry. You are Siobhan, I believe? I am John Wilkins. Until I retired, I was Jill’s manager. Where was I? Oh yes. The difference is that I knew neither that I was running, nor what from, and so I had no idea that I should stop, or when. My own…my peculiarity is in detail. I see details, I focus on detail, I am unable to step back for the bigger picture”

He looked around at everyone once again. “Most of you here know that I have issues that are the subject of attention by a therapist, but there is a difference between what she can do and what is done by simple humanity. That, I believe, is the point William has made. He is looking at that bigger picture, he is relying on the humanity he sees. Siobhan, understand this: there are very few second chances in this world. You must seize this one or lose forever”

Von sat quietly for half a minute, clearly weighing her response, which was the first time I had ever seen her pause before delivering an opinion. When it came, her voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear her.

“You are saying, then, that Will is going down this path whatever, yeah? That I can’t…”

Another pause. “You will have to bear with me. This is my world, all tipped up and thrown on the floor. It don't come easy”

That was like a clearing of mist from a mountain view. This was the woman I had fallen for, the one I had worked so hard not to hurt, the woman…the woman I had loved. Slowly, slowly, she was cracking the shell of bigotry her family had grown around her, the nastiness of her father’s considered opinion of anyone that didn’t travel the same road as he did.

“Love, you would really come back?”

“Why wouldn’t I , Mam? I mean, when did you stop being my mother?”

There was more, and there were tears, but essentially the job was done. Something had finally snapped in Von, reality hadn’t just seeped round the edges of the blinds she kept drawn but rather ripped them away and stood in front of her. Will kissed her cheek and turned to me.

“Do you mind if I get my stuff, Jill?”

“Gan on, Will. Keep the key, aye?”

Von jerked. “For once…woman, you can trust me. He won’t need a bolthole”

I smiled. “I know that, pet. But a lad has to come and see his friends every now and again, like”

Again, the dawn rose in her face. “And you are, aren’t you? His friends? So what happens now?”

Will laughed, and there was relief in it, as he clearly realised he was not going to lose his mother after all.

“Mam, I think what happens next will involve university and a lot of work”

“Yes, love, but you’ll be so far…”

It was clearly her day for revelations. “Jill, your mam, she knows about you”

“A bit hard to hide, like. Aye, she does, and she approves”

“And if I have it right, she knew about my boy before I did”

I took her hand. “She did have a bit of a head start with our Neil, like, so Will was no big deal. Look, lass, it wasn’t meant as a slight. It’s just, well, look what happened when you found out”

Almost a smile there. “Love, go on, get your stuff. I have cawl at home. Not too far, is it?”

John stood. “I’ll drive him round, be a bit quicker. Jill, I think…I think tonight, if you do not mind, I would like to go to a pub. This day has been a stressful one. So, would it be…different, that’s a good word. Would it be different if I asked if you had a spare bed for me so that I do not have to drive afterwards?”

Von was shaking her head as some of John’s oddness emerged. I saw Rachel disappear off to a corner at that, phone out. It was James who made the move.

“John, you are a friend. You are my friend, and it is not my house but Jill’s house, and Larinda’s house, for it is one house but they are two people and they have three bedrooms and I have seen them. Jill is my friend and she is your friend”

There was a pause then, and for a moment I had the awful thought that he was closing down again, for his hands started to come up towards his face, but they moved onwards, to touch his stepmother’s cheek.

“John, friends have visitors who are friends and they are called guests and two of the three bedrooms are guest rooms so you would be a guest and Mum can we be guests as well because Jill has camping things and I could sleep like that but without a tent”

I just nodded to John, and he hurried away with Will. I smiled at Karen, feeling her simple delight in what James so easily called her.

“Pet, you know the answer, aye? He can have the settee, John’s a bit old for that”

Rachel came back over. “I got all that, and it’s sorted. Had a word with the other John. There’s a session on at the Sun again, he said, so if you want we can have some silliness with our beer. James?”

“Rachel”

“How would you like some time with Darren?”

“There are only three bedrooms”

“No, son, we go out to a place where you can play some music with him and his mum. Then he goes home and you go back with Jill”

Von sat quietly though the exchange, and then, oddly, put her hand up. “Is this where my boy has more friends?”

Rachel nodded. “Yeah, a right mix. The other John’s my bloke’s brother, and he’s, er, gay as well”

Von still had her hand up. “So…if Will wants, could we come too?”

Clear and open and beautiful, that was the face James turned to her. “I am James, and you are Von. Are you my friend now?"

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You know already...

Andrea Lena's picture

...what I think... Here's an example of why:

That was like a clearing of mist from a mountain view. This was the woman I had fallen for, the one I had worked so hard not to hurt, the woman…the woman I had loved. Slowly, slowly, she was cracking the shell of bigotry her family had grown around her, the nastiness of her father’s considered opinion of anyone that didn’t travel the same road as he did.

Thank you for providing clarity for me on a day that was overcast inside my heart.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

'Drea said it better than I could.

and I love the last line: “I am James, and you are Von. Are you my friend now?"

Thank you for this.

DogSig.png

Think this seems feeting

Think this seems feeting although it has a lot of hair on it's teeth semper familia :d. Know I remember why this is one of my favorite story by you >seeing a them here< by you :d

James ...

One of those characters that is actually a joy to write, In my mind's eye I see him in some ways as similar to Rollo in CWR: he smiles, and thw world lights up. I am also trying to put across something that two many ordinary folk miss: the fact that someone has difficulty expressing themself, or communicating in a conventional way, does not indicate a lack of the ability to think.

... John

I'm just as impressed, if not actually more impressed, with the writing of John (Wilkins).

As with James, John's language reflects his condition, but it is so subtle I cannot analyse how it is done. There is just this 'off-key' sensation when I read it.

If this character is drawn from life, and that relationship in life was anything like Wilkins-Carter before John retired, this is an amazingly sympathetic portrayal. Une tour de force formidable..

Xi

Apart from the MAC

John is entirely cut from whole cloth.

Not a Mac

So the prototype for John is an anorak?

(Or some other waterproof...)

Xi

Thank you Steph,

It's like this,'Drea said it for Dorothy and
Dorothy said it for me.Beautiful,as always!

ALISON

Ah, simple innit, yet....

kristina l s's picture

... not so simple at all. There's a couple of phrases that I've tossed up as sig lines a time or two, the first is 'everything depends, always' the second, 'sanity is over rated' but I haven't figured out how to put the wry smile after that one. Both of those fit quite well with this lot if you look at it the right way.

There's a sort of alchemy here, a distillation, a complex mixture filtered into more pure thoughts and words. That's the art of it if that doesn't sound pretentious. I admire the hell out of it either way. Beautiful Steph. Got a wee bit misty I did.

Kristina

"It Dont Come Easy"

joannebarbarella's picture

Damn these leaky eyes. Ah, "family". Strangely enough I've been having these discussions with some of my family...and I mean my family as the ones I love and I hope love me back....not the ones I was lumbered with genetically.

So complicated, innit? I think I was very ready for a Jill fix, Steph,

Joanne

It always seems to be other people.

Why is it that whenever one of us has something different about us, it always seems to be other people who have the problems. Especially if those differences are not immediately and physically obvious.

If somebody has a physical issue like dwarfism, paralysis or down's syndrome, everybody can see it and act accordingly but in most instances sympathetically or protectively.

But if somebody has any issue concerning the brain like tourette's, autism, sexuality or gender issues it's almost as if they are immediately 'branded' as a freak, a target, a lesser being. Why?

This story just reinforces my cry from the heart ... WHY?

XZXX
Bev.

bev_1.jpg

Undiluted

Podracer's picture

Reading this story I feel like I haven't followed the serving instructions: "dilute 1:5 before consumption". It's strong stuff, good show Steph.

Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."

Said many times

I found a way to tell my stories that works for me, and I have used it several times. It is to introduce a 'minor' character who is actually at the heart of the story even though the whole thing is told first person. Cold Feet was about Alice, the Ride books about Chantelle and Darren, and in this one, as you can see, there are several bouncing off each other to be heard.

Once more, I may write some truly unpleasant scenes, but I cling to love, family, friendship as the keys to being human. As Bev puts it, redemption and requital.