Forty

Flicking on the light switch, Mandy dropped her bag by the door and went to the fridge, where she finished the carton of orange juice. She should really have had something to eat but she couldn’t face it yet – her stomach was churning with the thought of the phone call she had to make to John. How much of the detail surrounding the circumstances of Jimmy’s death she should tell him she didn’t know. She’d thought about it the entire train journey home and still hadn’t decided.

She dumped the empty carton of juice in the swing-top bin and then crossed to the bay windows and pulled the curtains. It was nearly 9 p.m. and dark outside. She took her phone from her bag and sat in the armchair. She needed to get the call over and done with and then she would phone Adam. There was still time to see him, and she wanted to see him very much.

Flipping up the lid on her phone the screen illuminated. She pressed Contacts, and then E – John was listed under E for Evelyn and John. Their landline number highlighted and she pressed to connect. She felt hot and uncomfortable; she was after all about to tell John his brother was dead. If Evelyn answered she wasn’t sure if she should tell her or whether she should ask for John. She hoped it wasn’t the answerphone for it would mean phoning back later or very early the following morning – it wasn’t a message you could leave on a machine.

‘Hello?’ a bright young female voice said, and for a moment Mandy thought she must have the wrong number.

‘I’m sorry, who am I speaking to?’ Mandy asked. ‘I wanted John Osborne?’

There was a moment’s pause and then a small laugh. ‘Hi, Mandy, it’s Sarah.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice.’

‘Not surprising. It’s over ten years since we last spoke on the phone. Dad is right beside me. I’ll put him on. Simon and I were just leaving. See you tomorrow. Are you coming back here for the buffet after?’ Mandy thought she made the funeral sound like a party.

‘I expect so. I’m coming with Mum and Dad so it will depend on them. See you tomorrow.’

There was a small clunk as she handed the phone to John. Mandy heard John say goodbye to Sarah and Simon before his voice came on the line. ‘Hello, Mandy. Everything all right?’

‘No, not really.’ She paused and took a breath. ‘John, I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but I learnt today that Jimmy is dead.’There was silence the other end which Mandy took to be shock. ‘I went to his house earlier today. I needed to confront him, and his wife and daughter told me.’

There was more silence, and then she heard John clear his throat. ‘Thank you for telling me, Mandy, but I already know.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes. I knew the Saturday after it happened. When I visited my mother – our mother – at the nursing home, the matron offered me her condolences and said she was sorry to hear of my brother’s death. I was shocked, obviously – Jimmy was only young, but I didn’t let on to the matron I didn’t know. Jimmy’s wife, Natalie, had phoned the nursing home and asked if they would tell Mum of Jimmy’s death. But of course with the Alzheimer’s Mum hadn’t remembered. She doesn’t even know she has sons.’ His voice fell away.

Mandy hesitated. ‘Do you know how he died?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Yes. I went to the inquest. He committed suicide.’

She hesitated again. ‘And the reason why he committed suicide? About his daughter, Hannah?’

‘Yes,’ he said sombrely.

She paused, and then her anger bubbled over. ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’ she demanded. ‘Why didn’t you tell me he was dead or that he’d been accused of assaulting his daughter? Why didn’t you or Evelyn say something when I remembered what had happened to me? I don’t understand!’

There was a long pause before John’s voice came on the line again, measured and very serious: ‘We didn’t think it would help you to know, Mandy. And there was the worry that if you knew about Hannah you might in some way feel responsible.’

‘Too right I feel responsible. And who’s “we”?’ she demanded again. ‘Who made the decision not to tell me?’

‘Your father. And I agreed with him.’

‘So he knows about Jimmy as well!’

‘Yes.’

‘And when did the two of you agree to keep this from me?’ She was furious – having just been released from one set of lies she now found she was the victim of another.

‘When you offered to stay to help nurse Grandpa your father was worried that Jimmy might still be visiting our house,’ John said. ‘So I told him Jimmy was dead. When he pressed me I told him the details surrounding his death.’

‘And no one thought to tell me! What else don’t I know?’

‘Nothing. That’s it.’

‘Are you completely sure, John? Everyone in this family seems very good at sharing confidences without telling me.’

‘Mandy,’ he said, raising his voice slightly. ‘It’s the truth. When you decided to stay and help us with Grandpa your father told me that none of you had ever spoken of that night in all this time and he wanted it kept that way. I thought it was odd but that was his decision. Evelyn and I promised your father we wouldn’t say anything to you, and we didn’t. When you remembered what had happened I phoned your father the next morning and told him. Your father was adamant that you shouldn’t be told about Jimmy’s death and the reason he’d committed suicide. He couldn’t see it would help you, and I agreed. He wanted to protect you, Mandy. If anyone should feel guilty for not reporting Jimmy at the time it’s your father and me. And we do. It was a disastrous decision, given what happened since, and we’re having to live with that.’

Mandy stared across the room, the phone pressed to her ear, angry, frustrated, yet reluctantly understanding that they’d only been trying to protect her. Her gaze moved across the room to her collection of china dogs, lovingly saved up for and bought with her pocket money. How long ago that simple pleasure now seemed; how far away the naivety of childhood.

‘Mandy,’ John was saying, ‘when the funeral is over I might give Natalie a ring and see if there is anything I can do. It’s time we tried to put the past behind and look to the future.’

‘Yes, I’m sure she’d appreciate that.’ She sighed, suddenly exhausted. ‘I’ll go now. Mum and Dad are collecting me early tomorrow.’

‘All right. See you tomorrow. I’m sorry if we did the wrong thing.’

Mandy said goodbye, cleared the call and sat for some moments staring thoughtfully across the room. The future, yes: John was right it was time to try and move on – to a future that wasn’t complicated by the secrecy of the past. Returning her attention to the phone she pressed Adam’s number and he answered immediately. ‘Hi love, you’re back early. Did you have a good time?’

‘I didn’t visit a friend,’ she said carefully. ‘I’ve been to Cambridgeshire to try and sort out my past. Adam, I know it’s late but would you like to come round?’

She heard his hesitation, and for a moment thought he was going to say no – that he’d had enough of her blowing hot and cold, and thought it was best they parted. ‘One problem,’ he said. ‘I’ve just bought fish and chips. How about I bring them with me and heat them up in your microwave?’

‘Great,’ she said, relieved. ‘And I’ll help you eat them. I’ve suddenly realized how hungry I am.’

‘In that case I’ll pick up another portion on the way over, together with a bottle of wine. See you soon.’