Chapter Thirty Three
"Dickie" Isobel whispered "Are you awake?"
Dickie sighed "Yes. I was just trying to convince myself that I don't need the bathroom." He swung his legs out of bed. He turned and said over his shoulder "You can tell me about what's keeping you awake when I get back."
Isobel smiled and then frowned. Had she kept him awake with her restlessness? She was still musing about how to start the conversation when she felt Dickie getting back into bed. He sighed as he settled himself under the covers again, then turned to face her. "Come on then, what's going on?"
"It's not that I was trying to hide anything." Isobel began "I don't like having secrets, I just wasn't sure if I should share it with you, or if discussing it with you would change anything, or help, or…."
Dickie's hand reached out in the darkness to still her agitation. "Just start at the beginning. You can't really say it's a secret seeing as I've been aware something was troubling you since I got home at lunchtime." He reassured her.
"I had a visitor this morning" Isobel started "Just after you went out. It was Tim." Dickie started to sit up "Oh, don't get upset! It was nothing horrid. And Stokes made sure he was always loitering just in case" Isobel smiled to herself at Stokes' protectiveness. "He… he said he came to apologise and had come when you weren't home on purpose. Said he wanted me to believe he did it for the right reasons, rather than just to appease you."
"And do you believe he was sincere?" Dickie sounded tense and angry. Isobel reached over to him.
"I was sceptical at first - I think maybe I still am a little. I can't decide whether I can trust what he said in our conversation this morning, or whether it's just another game." Isobel sighed "Then I think about how mean and uncharitable it is to think that about anyone, let alone your son."
Dickie rolled over and took her into his arms "I think it's entirely rational to be sceptical" He said comfortingly "And just because he's my son does not mean you have to give him any more chances than an ordinary man on the street. You've already given him more rope than he deserves." He kissed her on the head.
Isobel cuddled into Dickie's chest. "He sounded so vulnerable today. He was talking about all kinds of things he's come to realise about his childhood, Larry, his life in general. He said he'd discussed it with an old friend he hadn't seen in years - Jim?"
"Jim? Jem, maybe?" Dickie queried.
"Yes, could be. Is that significant?" Isobel asked.
Dickie smiled to himself "He and Jeremy were good friends at school. Jeremy was a lovely lad, the kind of friend everyone should have. I didn't know Tim was still in touch with him."
"He said he'd seen him just yesterday and realised how much he'd missed. I suppose I should have asked more about it, but I was too stunned by the conversation we were having" Isobel paused "He talked about wanting things to change. He talked about wanting a future with family in it."
"Really?" Dickie almost hated himself for feeling hopeful. "Did he say what he meant by that?"
"He apologised for last week. He said he'd liked being here, felt at home. But then he'd found himself lashing out at us and he didn't understand why." Isobel shook her head. "He did sound remorseful, I just…"
Dickie sighed "I know. I think you know how much I would love for it to be true (Isobel gave him a quick squeeze) but I can hardly bear to hope it might be true."
"I was reading a piece in a journal a few months ago about a theory that actions can be caused by associations." Isobel mused "After we heard about him being arrested, you said that when he was a child he would pick a fight if he was upset?"
"Yes, but I don't see the relevance?" Dickie queried.
"Children often do things as an impulsive reaction, but as they grow up they learn to control themselves. Tell a small child they can't have something and they may throw a temper tantrum, or ask them to do something they don't want to and they will refuse to comply by folding their arms or running away, for example. When he was younger, Tim may have found the way to cope with being upset was to hit things. It just happened to be people."
"Please tell me he didn't hit you or anything else!" Dickie pleaded.
Isobel chuckled "Of course not. But last weekend, he used words to lash out instead. I wonder if he was upset that he doesn't have, or hasn't had, a family like he saw here or at the Abbey, and it upset him. So he lashed out without really knowing why he was doing what he was doing. He said to me that he didn't understand why he did it, and nor did he believe the things he was saying. Maybe, just maybe, he was telling me the truth?"
"Perhaps. But then he did go and find someone to fight with, didn't he" Dickie added miserably.
"We sent him packing." Isobel squeezed Dickie "Oh, don't get me wrong, we had to! But maybe the drinking and the fight were just another way to try and deal with how upset he was." Isobel sighed "I don't know. I can't work out if I'm just making excuses for him, wishful thinking, or whether he was sincere."
"Well, at least I know why you've been tossing and turning all night." Dickie said lightly "How about a nightcap?"
-TW- -TW- -TW-
Tim took a deep breath. This wasn't getting any easier, just more familiar. He rang the door bell in front of him and waited.
"Hello Clarrie" Tim tried to smile at the unimpressed face that greeted him through the crack of the door "Any chance Julia's in?" The door closed again. Tim waited.
Clarrie trudged back through the flat to her bedroom, pausing to call through Julia's door "It's Tim for you, with a ridiculously large bunch of flowers." She yawned and stumbled towards her bed, determined to resume her Saturday morning lie in.
"What?! What did he say?" Julia bounced into Clarrie's room, full of life and questions.
Clarrie groaned "He asked if you were in. I've told you he's at the door. Leave me alone!" She placed her pillow over her head.
Julia sighed "Great help you are!" she tip-toed towards the door, wondering whether she should change before she saw Tim? or just not go to the door at all? or maybe get dressed? or tell him to come back later?
"I can hear you thinking from here!" came the muffled voice from the bed "Shut the door on your way out!"
Julia giggled and shouted "Grump!" before quickly shutting the bedroom door before a cushion hit the back of it. Feeling more relaxed she walked through the flat to the door.
Outside, Tim was wondering how long should he wait? Should he sit there all day until she came home or decided she had to go out? Or should he leave after 15 minutes and respect the fact that she didn't want to see him? That thought caused a sharp sting. He'd wait…
The door opened a little and Julia peeked around it "Clarrie wasn't kidding about the size of that bouquet" she said in awe.
"I felt I had to make a big gesture for the big mistakes I've made." Tim said seriously. At the concerned look on her face he smiled tentatively "I was hoping we could talk. Maybe go for lunch somewhere quiet?"
Julia chewed her bottom lip "I don't know Tim. How do I know you won't leave me to fend for myself again?"
Tim hung his head "I've had a really rotten few weeks, and I'm really sorry you got mixed up in the middle of it." He ran his hand through his hair "I want the chance to apologise, make it up to you. Please."
Julia absently wondered if he realised how attractive he looked like that, all sorry and mussed up and vulnerable. She groaned inwardly. "Where were you thinking of?" she queried.
"There's a little restaurant off Bedford Square, serves breakfast all day." Tim started to feel a little hopeful "I just want a chance to explain, tell you everything."
"Well…" Julia paused.
"Please" Tim almost begged "Once you know everything, if you never want to see me again, I'll understand. But I can't leave it this way between us Julia. Please."
"It'll take me at least an hour to get ready" Julia challenged.
Tim grinned "How about I pick you up at 12?"