Break: A Short Story by Christopher Hughes

The atmosphere in the car was stifling, a dead heat that made everything quieter than usual. Lewis kept his head pressed against the window, his arms crossed. The plastic smell of a new car got into the back of his throat and made him feel sick. He could see his Dad in the wing mirror, turning his head every few seconds.

          ‘The pitch must have been pretty hard today - looks like you’ve been through the wars.’

          Lewis looked at his muddy, grazed knees.

They passed the local park.

          ‘Did you score any goals?’ His father loosened his tie, see-through patches under his arms. ‘How’s your mum?’

          Lewis turned from the window. He couldn’t remember the last time his Dad had asked about her.

 ‘Okay.’

          ‘Good, I’m glad.’ Lewis saw his Dad nod in the wing mirror, but his eyes stayed fixed on the road. They pulled up at the traffic lights near the village and Lewis pressed his forehead against the window again. He rolled his tongue against the back of his teeth, and took a deep breath.

          ‘I was stood there for over an hour.’

          ‘I know. I’m sorry. But it’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it? You should have seen it outside my office. Everyone was out sunbathing on the grass. Didn’t you have a kick-about with Declan and his mates?’

          ‘Declan hasn’t played in the team for ages.’

          ‘Wasn’t anybody else there to wait with you?’

          ‘No. Everyone got picked up on time.’

          ‘Your coach didn’t wait with you? He should have. It’s not on- I know it’s the middle of the day but you’re not old enough to be left on your own like that.’

          ‘I thought you would be there soon to pick me up. I thought you were coming so I said he could leave.’

          The traffic lights changed and they moved off. Lewis could feel sweat on his back, wet and prickly. He could smell something strange on his father. It smelt like Miss. Rice in school.

          ‘I’m sorry.’

‘How come you’re still in your work clothes?’

‘I got held back at work and I didn’t have a chance to call you. It was short notice. I don’t blame you for being mad at me, but I’m here now. Your mum doesn’t have to know about this. We can keep this between us?’

          ‘She rang me before to see where I was.’

          ‘And you told her I was late picking you up?’

          ‘No, I told her that I was with you and we’d gone into town for a bit.’

          ‘Thanks mate. Why don’t we really go into town and get that game you’ve been after?’ His Dad pulled the car over to the side of the road.

          ‘Mum bought it for me. She got it for me as a present for doing well in Maths.’

          ‘I didn’t know you’d been doing so well?’

          ‘I got an award. I’m Gifted and Talented.’

          ‘That’s great Lew! Let’s go to McDonalds to celebrate!’

          ‘I’m not hungry.’

          ‘Let’s go to Pizza Hut then. Even better! It’ll be my treat.’

          ‘I said I’m not hungry.’ He turned away from his Dad.

Lewis had been watching TV before he’d noticed his Dad’s car pull up outside. He tried to stomach the rest of his cereal. His mother had been outside for at least ten minutes. The front door slammed and Lewis dropped his bowl onto his lap. Cold milk splashed onto his pyjama bottoms.

‘Are you going through? I haven’t got all day,’ his Mum said in the hall.

          ‘Can I hang my jacket up?’ his father replied.

          ‘No need, you won’t be staying long.’

          Lewis grabbed the nearest cushion to cover the wet patch, then pinched up the bits of cereal and tried to swallow them before his Dad came in. He set the near empty bowl onto the floor and pulled his knees up to his chin. They still stung from practice.

          His Mum came into the room first. She was frowning and held her dressing gown tightly around herself. His Dad followed. He wasn’t wearing his work clothes. He must have had a day off.

          ‘Hi, Lew,’ he said. ‘You fancy letting me drive you to school today?’

          ‘No, he doesn’t. He’s coming with me,’ his mother interrupted.

          ‘Helen, he can answer for himself.’

          ‘Lewis, can you go up to your room for a few minutes please? Your dad and I have a few things to talk about.’ She stroked his hair, and he pulled away.

Not in front of Dad.

          ‘I don’t mind him being here. Let him watch the telly,’ his father said.

          ‘It’s okay,’ Lewis said, getting up from the couch. He picked up the bowl. ‘I’ll just go in the garden for a bit.’

          ‘Okay, love. It won’t be for long I promise.’

          ‘Yeah, mate. Won’t be long. I’ll see you again soon.’

          ‘You’ll be lucky.’ His mother flicked the TV off.

          Lewis shuffled to the kitchen, a narrow room with morning sunlight streaming in through the big window. The lino floor was hot like the sand on the beach in Majorca. The window was open and someone was mowing their lawn. He put the bowl and spoon in the sink, then unlocked and opened the back door before shutting it again. He tiptoed back to where he came in. There was a gap between the door and it’s frame just wide enough to see his parents in the living room. He couldn’t see his father’s face, just the back of his head over the top of the couch. His mother stood above him with her arms folded. Her face looked thin.

          ‘I’m only supposed to have contact with you through the solicitor.’

          ‘I’m not here to argue.’

          ‘Bloody right you’re not. What do you want?’

          ‘Lewis said you bought him a new game this week?’

          ‘So what?’

          ‘How much was it?’ He took something from his pocket and licked his thumb.

          ‘Put that away, I don’t want your money.’

          ‘I know those games aren’t cheap.’

          ‘I got it online. I don’t need that.’

          ‘I’m trying to help.’

          ‘You only want to help someone if there’s something in it for you.’

          ‘That’s not fair. I’m doing this for Lewis.’

          ‘Wow, you’re so generous- twenty-odd quid every few months.’ She walked to the window. ‘That new motor looks nice. It’s a BMW isn’t it? It must have cost you a fair bit.’

          ‘I got that through the company, actually. I only have to pay for petrol.’

          ‘Lucky you.’

          ‘I’m not bragging about it. There’s three-hundred there. That’s enough for a decent telly at least. I’ll give you more if it’s not.’

          ‘You don’t understand. It‘s not about money.’

‘This isn’t a bribe. Jesus Christ, Helen, you could make this easier for both of us.’

‘That’d suit you wouldn’t it. I’m telling you now there’s no way you’re taking him away from me.’

‘He’d be much happier living with me. I can get him whatever he wants, and you

could come and see him every weekend.’

‘Fuck off, Julian. I have a right to look after him.’

          ‘I have a right too. It’s not fair to only let me see him once a week after practice. I can’t even watch him play.’

She stormed over to his Dad, her cheeks flushed crimson.

‘You should’ve thought of that before you left. You only have that money because you left us. They’ll know why you left, and we both know it wasn’t for your job.’

‘Everything I told you is true. I’m not hiding anything from him. Take a look in the mirror. You can barely look after yourself. He still spends a lot of time at your mum’s then?’

‘Everybody knows you ran off with that tart.’

‘Keep your voice down, for God’s sake. Lewis might hear you.’

‘Don’t want him to know Daddy’s little secret?’

          His Dad got up and wedged a bundle of notes under the clock on the mantelpiece.

[C1] ‘We don’t need your money, and we definitely don’t need you.’

‘We’ll see.’

His Dad left the room. His Mum stared at the money, biting a finger nail and then her lip as the front door shut. The lawnmower outside had stopped. She cupped her hands to her face and sobbed. She suddenly looked frail. He’d seen her cry so many times before, but this time she looked helpless.

          Lewis crept from behind the kitchen door and edged towards her.

          ‘Mum, are you okay?’

          She looked up her eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet. She sniffed and half-smiled at him.

          ‘I thought you were outside. You haven’t been listening to any of that?’

          ‘No.’

          ‘We were talking about some grown-up things. You’re happy here aren’t you? I told your father you have everything you want here. You’re happy here.’

          ‘Yeah.’ His Dad’s car was gone.

               She picked up the money from the mantelpiece like it was heavier than it really was. Then she stuffed it in her pyjama pocket.

          Lewis moved to her side, put his arms around her waist and leaned his head against the warm fleece of her dressing gown.

          ‘Is everything going to be okay, Mum?’

          Her body shook as she wept.

Lewis scrambled into the back seat of the car. He’d never got into the back; he always rode in the front seat with his dad.

          ‘Please be nice, Lew,’ his father said in a low voice, leaning in close. His hot breath touched Lewis’ forehead. ‘Vanessa is a really good friend of mine. Her car’s broken down so she needed a lift somewhere. You’ll like her.’

          ‘Okay.’

          ‘Good lad.’ He ruffled his son’s hair as Vanessa got into the front seat, swinging her long legs in.

Lewis sunk into leather. The seatbelt in the back jammed whenever he tried to loosen it and the edge cut into his waist. There was a little ridge in the front seat where he could rest his legs. He wriggled until he found a position that was least uncomfortable.

          ‘It’s really nice to finally meet you Lewis.’ Vanessa looked at him through the rear view mirror as the car moved off. ‘Your Dad is always talking about you.’ Her teeth were like the people in toothpaste adverts. She wore her black hair up in a neat bun and her thick rimmed glasses on the end of her nose. ‘I’ve heard you’re really good at football. What team do you support?’

          ‘United.’

          ‘So do I! They won last week didn’t they?’

          ‘They lost two-one.’

          ‘Oh. Well I’m sure they’ll win this weekend, don’t you agree Julian?’

          ‘Definitely.’

          She turned away and started a conversation with his father that Lewis didn’t listen to. It wasn’t hot like it had been the last few days. The whole sky was filled with clouds and everything looked grey. The road, the pavement, rows of houses. Everybody they passed wore grey.

          Lewis glanced at the rear view mirror. His eyes caught Vanessa’s and he looked away. That was his seat.

          ‘Right, here we are,’ his father said. They pulled up outside a row of shops near the village.

          ‘Thanks, Jools,’ Vanessa said, leaning over and kissing his father on the cheek.

          ‘No problem. You smell gorgeous. Call me when you’re done? I’ll come and pick you up.’

          ‘Sure.’ She turned to Lewis. ‘It was really nice to meet you. I hope that we can get to know each other better soon. It would mean a lot to us.’ She made eyes towards his father, then leaned over and kissed Lewis on the cheek too. Her perfume was stuffy, like the pot-puree his mother used to put out in the living room. She climbed out and blew a kiss as they drove off again.

          ‘What do you think mate? You like her?’ He spoke to his son the same way Vanessa had, through the mirror.

          ‘I guess so.’ Lewis scrubbed the lipstick mark off his cheek.

          ‘I knew you would. Vanessa is great. You’ll be seeing more of her from now on.’

          ‘Okay.’

          ‘Oh, by the way, can we keep this between us?’

          ‘What do you mean?’

          ‘Your mum doesn’t need to know about Vanessa.’

         

The smell of coffee clogged Lewis’ nostrils. His mother sat across the little round table from him with her double cappuccino, or whatever it was. She sipped it slowly, forgetting to wipe away the brown foam moustache. She had set their bags down on the floor beside them. Lewis stared at his hot chocolate, covered with cream and tiny square marshmallows. Those big flumpy ones were better. He toyed at the cream with a plastic spoon, picked up a blob then watched it drip off and melt back into the pile.

‘Drink that up, Lewis. We don’t do this often. It’s a nice break from everything recently.’

‘I’m usually playing a match now.’

‘They won’t miss you for one game though. Just think how horrible it would be playing in this rain. You’d catch your death.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Are you having a good day so far?’

‘Sure.’

‘I knew you would. There’s a few shops I’d like to look in then we can get the bus back home.’

His mother looked around the room, watching other people drinking their coffees. The whole place was made of dark wood that creaked when walked over or leant upon. The window next to them had steamed up, so his mother had taken out a tissue and wiped a portal in the middle.

‘Look at her, Lewis.’ She pointed to a young woman passing by with hefty bags of shopping and pointed high heels. Her denim jacket was pulled over her head, and she wobbled as she took each step through the rain.

‘Women like that need their heads looking at. She’ll kill herself walking in those when the weather is like this, all for fashion.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘When you’re old enough to start dating, don’t fall for one of those. They’ll take your money sooner than look at you then break your heart.’

‘Don’t worry Mum, I won’t.’

‘Good boy.’ She held her stare for a few seconds then took a long sip of her drink. ‘How’s your father?’

‘Fine, I think. I don’t know.’

‘You saw him the other day didn’t you? He picked you up from school, Grandma told me.’

‘I didn’t see him for long, just in the car. We didn’t really talk.’

‘He didn’t speak to you?’

‘I don’t mean that, we just didn’t talk about much. I was tired.’

‘Did he ask you how your day had been?’

‘Well, no.’

‘It’s not hard to make conversation.’

‘He was driving.’

‘He could have at least pretended to be interested. You need to stay with me. I can look after you properly. He’s still living with your uncle isn’t he?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Tell me.’ A grey man on the table next to them rubbernecked from behind his newspaper.

‘I really don’t.’ Lewis tried to sound calm.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Was anybody with him?’

‘Like who?’

‘I don’t know, you tell me.’

 ‘I don’t know what you mean Mum. Can we talk about something else?’

‘Are you hiding something?’ She clattered her cup onto the saucer, spilling some coffee over the edge.

‘No, just leave it.’ Lewis felt his eyes well up. ‘I am having a nice day - you don’t have to get angry. We don’t talk about what he does, and I don’t ask him. Please drop it, he doesn’t ask all this about you.’

‘I’m glad to hear that he cares about me. He’s trying to make you live with him and I can’t let him do that.’ She wiped her eye and said, ‘I’m only thinking of what’s best for you.’ She reached out her open hand.

Lewis slowly pulled out his hand from under the table and laid it in hers. She closed her other hand around them.

‘You have to tell me if you’ve seen your father with any girls, Lewis. It’s very important that I know if he is.’

 ‘I don’t understand.’ He wished he was playing football, and the wind and the rain drowned

‘It’s hard to explain. Parents fight and sometimes they break up, like me and your father. But if he left me to be with another woman, then he wouldn’t be allowed to take you away from me. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to live with your mum.’

          Lewis scratched his arm and looked at the grey man. He dived back into his newspaper.

          ‘Look at me.’ His mother looked straight down her nose and into his eyes

‘I won’t lose you. Have you seen him with another woman?’

          He tried to pull his hand away from hers.

          ‘Mum, you’re hurting me.’