Chapter Seven

It was as Craig sat in the unusual silence of the McQueen household, that he wished he hadn't come back home from Dublin.

He had contemplated running through the side door when he saw Mercedes and Jacqui walk in the pub, but what exactly was he going to do? Run away from them every time he saw them. Eventually he would have to speak to them, and after the phone call with Steph, there was no way they would let that slide.

He sighed heavily and looked around the room, everyone was sat in silence. Tina was sat holding onto Michaela, she was out of everyone the only one to even smile at Craig as he entered the house, he could hear Carmel in the kitchen making tea for everyone. Mercedes and Jacqui sat glaring at him, whilst Myra was frantically re-dialling Steph's number that Craig had just given her.

"Why isn't she picking up?"

Craig shifted awkwardly in his chair. Why was here, he just wanted to get up and walk away. This wasn't his problem, why was he being dragged into something that had nothing to do with him.

"Craig…" He heard Carmel speaking softly as she sat down next to him "What exactly did Steph say?"

"Erm, she just said that she saw him working in a bar. She didn't say what it was called or anything…" He turned to look at Myra who was pacing up and down, still dialling "She's probably on the train back Myra… she might not have any signal…"

"Did she say anything else, did she speak to him? How is he?" He turned back to Carmel, her voice was pleading with him for something.

He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair "I'm sorry I have to go…"

He heard Mercedes laugh bitterly "That's right, walk away. It's what you do best"

"Excuse me? If you've got something to say Mercedes just say it"

She stood up now walking towards him "I think I just did, and you know what? We wouldn't even be in this position if it weren't for you. Our John Paul would be alright…"

Craig shook his head. He had to admit, there were something's he would take the blame for, mistakes that he had made. But not this.

"You are seriously going to try and blame this on me? John Paul leaving here is not my fault. He made a choice, the same way he made a choice to leave me standing at that airport, don't any of you dare put this on me…"

"No one's trying to put this on you Craig…" He snapped his head back in the direction of Tina "… we're just worried. And the thing is Craig; after you left… he just wasn't the same anymore, and I think what bothers everyone here most of all, is that none of us really noticed until it was too late…"

"I'm sorry…"

Craig didn't know what to say as he looked around the room, all the faces staring back at him, expecting something more than what he had said. He moved towards the door and then looked back at them.

"She said… he didn't look… he was barely recognisable…" The eyes continued to watch his as he reached for the door handle. He looked around the room one more time, looking at everything so closely. He hadn't had a chance to take it all in before, but now memories of a life that seemed so long ago were flashing back to him. He turned to look at the stairs, John Paul's room was only a few steps away, all he had to do was run up the stairs and then he would be there, a place that would take him back to a year ago.

"Do you not even care?" He heard Carmel's voice, but she wasn't looking at him now. Her voice wasn't the same as before, she sounded angry and confused. "After hearing that, after we called you all those months ago and asked you… do you just not care that John Paul is falling apart?"

"Do you think that I was Carmel? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get on that plane, to get on with my life? You think I got to Dublin and everything was okay? It took me months to get over this… what was I supposed to do? He made his choice… and it wasn't me. Was I just supposed to sit around and let it control my life?"

"I'm not talking about then Craig, that's between you and John Paul. I'm talking about now. I mean, you're his friend right? And well none of us understand this, why he left I mean, and I think maybe you do, I'm not blaming you, but why he left its… you must know it's connected to you… I just think if anyone can help him, its you"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe that's the last thing he wants? Maybe he wanted to start over, get away from all of this?"

"Do you really believe that?"

The truth was he didn't know what to believe. There was a part of him that just wanted to walk out the door and avoid all the questions she was throwing at him. And then another part that above anything else, missed his best friend. He was worried, a worry that left him feeling sick to his stomach, and it was a feeling he had felt ever since he got the phone call from the McQueen's that day. Every now and then he would think about him, and then he would push it quickly from his mind, not allowing himself to think about it.

"What do you want me to do?"

Myra was looking at him now, the phone still held firmly in her hands. "Will you go and see him? Talk to him…"

"I don't… maybe one of you guys should…"

Myra shook her head "It won't work Craig. I know my son. And lets face it, everyone in this room knows any of us lot turning up there is more reason for him to run. He didn't want to stay here with us, he made that clear…" The tears were starting to form in her eyes now, it was then Craig saw just how altered she looked. Like she had months of sleepless nights. "At least, if you go and well… I mean if his happy there, if he has a life there now, then that's something isn't it? If his happy, that's all that matters"

Craig looked back into the room again. Mercedes looked like the only one who thought this was a bad idea; she was still glaring at Craig, questioning and untrusting. It was the first time he had ever seen the McQueen's held back, usually they would go charging in without a second thought, and now it seemed they were resigned to the only thing they thought would work. He didn't share their feelings, he wasn't sure that him turning up there was the right thing to do at all. But the want to see John Paul again was winning out, just to make sure he was okay. He had to know, not just for himself, but for the other people in the room with him.

"Okay, I'll go"