The Return of Charlie Cotton
Monday 30 January 2017, 12.21 am
Chapter I. An Unexpected Return

"It's not the only thing you're forgetting, Max," Jack blurted, as he stood in the middle of his front room, staring into his older brother's eyes. "It wasn't just this time, was it? It's every single time! It's years back in Ibiza when she was off her head on coke! It's Sean, it's Carl, it's the R&R! Every single time, Roxy has held Ronnie back, and now – and now – now, she's dragged her down with her!"

"Jack, come on, you know it ain't like that," Max said, taking a single step closer to his brother.

"Yes, Max, it is," Jack shouted, almost matter-of-factly, his eyes watering again. "It's exactly like that. Her addiction came back to bite her, didn't it? Years and years of substance abuse, years of it. The only thing she could have done to make things better was to die, and she couldn't even do that by herself, could she?"

"Nah, you don't, you don't mean that," Max mumbled, shaking his head, as he pocketed his hands and turned to look at Glenda, who was standing by the door silently. "Nah, you're upset. You're upset, ain't ya? You're just looking for someone to blame."

"I have someone to blame!" Jack yelled, tears in his eyes now, as he stormed towards the table and pulled up a framed photograph of Ronnie and Roxy, before walking back over to Max and showing it to him. "Look at her, Max! That bitch killed my wife!"

Jack had thrown the framed photograph onto the ground, shattering the glass into tens of fractured pieces, before he had noticed Glenda begin to sob and turn away to leave. Jack's eyes widened slightly, but he couldn't bring himself to apologise, instead taking a step back and then sinking down into the sofa, defeatedly. Max's eyes flittered towards Glenda leaving, and once she had disappeared into the kitchen, Max shook his head once more and looked back at his sobbing brother.

"What's the matter with you, eh?"

Jack looked up at Max through tear-filled eyes, but he still didn't say anything. His brother scoffed, leaving the room to go back to check on Glenda. Jack sat there, alone, for a few moments, as his mind span around and around as he sought for something to say, something to feel. Anything besides from this. Anything besides from the broken mess that he was. All of his plans, everything he had, they were all gone. It was supposed to be the way it was meant to have been all of those years ago. Jack and Ronnie, together again, and this time there was nothing stopping them. They were supposed to leave all of the things that had pulled them back behind them. Danielle. Archie. Roxy. Everything.

"It was supposed to be our fresh start," Jack whispered to himself, as he brought his hands to his face and wiped away his tears. "We were supposed to be happy."

"I know," Glenda said, as she re-entered the room with Max in tow. "I know."

Glenda's eyes were just as red as Jack's, and her heart was just as broken. She found her way to the sofa, where she sat down next to him, slowly turning to bring him into a hug. Jack complied with little hesitation, sobbing uncontrollably in her arms as he allowed himself to sink into the embrace. Max looked on, before eyeing the shattered picture frame and then kneeling down to lift up the frame. It had been a photograph of the sisters long before they had ever stepped foot in Walford, and probably back when they had ran a bar together in Ibiza.

"I'll stick the kettle on," Max said, as he slowly walked out of the room with the frame in his hands, leaving the pair to their own devices.

Jack broke away from the hug first as he composed himself, and Glenda offered him a pained smile, as they held a long, hard gaze into one another's eyes. Jack had leaned in again, but Glenda, not moving, turned her head to the side a little, her eyes still not averting. Jack had taken the hint, and stayed where he was, before shifting in his seat again until he was slouched into the sofa. One of Glenda's hands had found its way to his shoulder, which she squeezed gently, as she released a soundless sigh of relief.

"I'm glad you're here," Jack said, nodding his head very slightly. "I wouldn't have been able to have done this without you. Honestly, it means a lot."

"Anything I can do to help," Glenda smiled, wiping her own eyes and then moving her hand away from him. "On that note, I may as well make myself useful somehow and clear up this mess."

Jack's eyes followed Glenda's to the shattered glass on the ground. They both narrowed their eyes to notice that the frame of the photograph was no longer there, but they shrugged it off, turning back to face each other. Jack took Glenda's hands in his own, squeezing them with a feint smile.

"You're a lifesaver," Jack said, letting go of her and allowing her to stand and exit the room, before once more sinking back into the sofa.

Glenda walked into the kitchen, to see Max standing beside the whirring kettle as he looked deeply at the photograph. Glenda stood beside him, shaking her head in dismay. When he noticed her, he slowly placed the photograph down, standing it next to the microwave, before turning back to face the kettle, lifting it up from its port as steam began to rise from its opening.

"How many sugars?" Max asked politely, as he took two mugs and took a teabag from the tin box on the counter. "Two, right?"

"I'll take a coffee, black," she said, as she bent down to grab the dustpan and brush, before turning as if she was heading back to the front room. She paused, then turned to face her son-in-law's brother, and frowned. "Max? You do think Jack will move on, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he answered, as he fidgeted to get the teabag out of her mug and then shrugged his shoulders as he thought about it. "Yeah, maybe one day, but not any day soon. Look at him, Glenda, he's a mess."

"I just don't want to see him broken forever," she sighed, folding her arms.

"No, but it's early days, you know," Max answered her, taking the coffee out from the cupboard. "Just give him time, it'll take a while."

"How long is a while?" Glenda scoffed, closing her eyes.

"After Emma died, you know, my missus from two-three years back, I was broken," Max said, as he approached her. "I was looking for someone to blame. I ended up blaming Roxy too, she was driving the car that hit her. I ended up blaming Ronnie, you know, what if it was just that one day that she picked? New Year's Day. It was when she and Jack lost their baby as well, maybe it was just a bad day. Clearly it was, looking back. I even blamed Phil. You know who was to blame in the end?"

"Matthew's grandfather," Glenda answered knowingly, although the tone of her voice was a little dry, suggesting that she didn't understand where Max was taking this. Max shook his head, and then looked straight into her eyes.

"Nah," he said, his hands slipping back into his pockets. "In the end, it didn't matter who was to blame. Things happen, don't they? They happen for a reason, everything, every time. There's always a reason. I could have sat there forever, blaming Roxy, blaming Phil, blaming Nick, but at the end of the day, I had to pick up the pieces and I had to move on. And Jack – Jack, he'll come round too. He'll see Roxy weren't all bad, he'll get it. And you know why? Cos if he doesn't, he'll never move on."

"What if he never wants to?" Glenda muttered, looking down to the ground and then sighing. "What if I never want to move on."

"No, you watch," Max said, as he returned to continue making the coffee. "It's all the same. Losing your missus, losing your child. The pain will always be there, you know, but you have to move on, or you'll drown in it, in the self-pity, forever. Trust me. Just give him time."

Glenda smiled slightly and nodded her head, turning to the door and leaving the room. Of course, she had forgotten that everyone in that room had endured the same pain as one another. Max had lost Emma too, just as Jack had lost Ronnie, and Max had lost his son Bradley just as Glenda had lost her daughters. They had all come to know the grief of loss.

"Roxy did all this," Jack asserted as soon as Glenda re-entered the front room. "That's all I can think about, every second of every day."

"Jack," Glenda said sharply, kneeling to begin sweeping the floor. "You have to stop this. For your children, if not for yourself. What is Amy going to think if she hears you bad-mouthing her mother?"

"Maybe she should hear this!" Jack shouted angrily. "Maybe the kids should all know what Roxy's taken from us all!"

"Jack, stop," Glenda warned him again, maintaining a quiet tone. "The children are asleep."

Jack glanced at Glenda, but he didn't say anything. Sniffing, he nodded in understanding, and closed his eyes in defeat, but the sound of the front door knocking five times set his eyes wide open again. In unison, Jack and Glenda shot each other a confused look. Before either of them could say or do anything, Max had made his way out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

"I've got it," Max assured them, but Glenda began to frown.

"What's this about now?" Jack muttered, as he turned his head to his mother-in-law. "Why is someone knocking at a time like this? It's half past midnight."

Jack and Glenda could recognise the sound of the front door creaking open, but they weren't able to make out any voices in the hallway. Max reappeared in the threshold of the front room door, his facial expression one of worry. His eyes fell on Glenda, taking a sharp breath, as the front door slammed shut, and footsteps followed behind him.

"You're not gonna like this," Max said, causing Jack to look over to the door and stare at the man behind his brother.

"Who are you?" Jack demanded, glaring at the man.

Glenda shut her eyes slowly and kept them closed, shaking her head, as Max looked towards his brother, who had by now risen from his seat and was making his way to the centre of the room next to his brother and mother-in-law. Glenda and Max shared a look of distress, before allowing the other man to enter. The man stared blankly at Jack, before looking towards Max and Glenda, before allowing his eyes to dart around the room.

"Where's Matthew?" the man asked, as his gaze fell back onto Jack. "Where's my son?"