Resolution

Chapter 26

He was eating a slice of toast when he opened the door and looked out at her. He didn't speak. He took in the vomit splatters on her T-shirt, her dirty, cut knees and the hedge leaves in her hair. She tried to look up at him but only got as far as his chin when she started to cry and raised a hand to hide her face. Liam dropped his toast on the floor and reached out, took her by the wrist like a lost child and pulled her into the house. It took over an hour to suture the tears.

"Calmer?" asked Liam.

She wiped her face, feeling like an idiot.

"Come on." He took her into the kitchen, sat her on a chair at the table and poured some milk into a pan. As he took the Ovaltine out of the doorless cupboard he caught her eye and smiled at her. She breathed in, shuddering at the unaccustomed depth. "Are you making that for me because I'm a pathetic fucking idiot?" she said.

"Yeah."

He set two cups on the worktop, spooning sugar and malty powder into them. Liam had been forced to stop refurbishing the kitchen because of his resit exam, but he'd already ripped the doors off all the cupboards and pulled up the filthy lino. It was quiet in the house and there was comfort in watching Liam, sure and steady, performing a chore. Maureen prayed that he wouldn't be mentioned in the court case. She wiped her nose on her hand. "It's nice in here."

Liam looked at her skeptically as he poured the warm milk into the powder.

"I mean it's nicer. Cleaner. It's clean."

Liam put the cup down in front of her. "Drink that," he said. "It'll calm ye down."

"How?" She sniffed. "Is it drugged?"

Liam grinned as he sat down. "Yeah," he said, and made a joke of forgetting which mug had the drugs in it and reaching anxiously for her cup. When she wrapped her hands around the warm mug the gentle heat seeped into her chilled fingertips. She sipped it and the creamy drink slid down her throat, warming her tired, tight belly. "Have ye watched that video yet?" she asked.

"Oh, God, no, not yet," said Liam. "I'm building up to it. Are ye going to tell me what happened to you tonight, or will I guess?" Guess.

"Una?"

Maureen nodded.

"Michael?"

She nodded again, seeing Michael's face again in her mind's eye. Her stomach tightened and she had to rub her eyes hard to make the image go away.

"Mauri, he's not going to abuse a newborn baby. The baby isn't you, remember? Alistair's there, Una's there, and they've got a nanny coming in during the day. Una won't leave the baby with Michael. I don't even know if he's going to be there that much."

She looked up at him, appreciating the kind lies, knowing he meant well.

"I went over there," she said quietly. "I saw Michael through the window. Una left the baby alone with him."

Liam sighed. "Mauri, why did you go there?"

"I just wanted to know. I want to know where he is. I want to know what he's doing and what he looks like…"

"You're just upsetting yourself."

"I want to know, I need to know things…"

"Honestly, spying on him through a window. Ye couldn't know everything that goes on, you'll just worry yourself."

Maureen sat back and looked out of the window at the dark garden. "I'd like to know everything," she said wistfully. "Everything I've ever wondered about. D'ye ever think that?" She tried to smile at him but Liam looked worried. "I'd like to know everything about everyone. No mysteries left. No secrets."

Liam sipped his drink and looked at her, licking the frothy mustache from his top lip. "He's not a well man, Mauri. By the time the wean's up a bit he'll probably be dead."

"How can she see him?" said Maureen, getting angry. "How can she have him in her house? He's nothing to us. He was never even there."

Liam pulled a cigarette out of his packet and lit up. "I think Una and Marie remember him differently than we do. All he ever was to us was trouble. I think they remember him before he got really bad. You know? Happier times."

"Well, I don't remember any of them."

"But I think that's what they're chasing, those happier times. He's very sick."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Maureen, hoping for a virulent cancer.

Liam watched her drink her Ovaltine. "Winnie thinks it's a brain tumor," he said solemnly.

Winnie never suspected anyone of having a slight cold or being overtired. For Winnie every symptom spoke a massive, dramatic, terminal malfunction. Maureen spluttered the milky drink over the table and they started laughing, looking around the room, enjoying the release. Suddenly she remembered Michael alone with the baby. Her face became hot and she began to cry again. She caught her breath. "Just the mild headaches, then?" she said, wiping Ovaltine off her chin.

Liam snorted and leaned over in his chair, balancing on two legs as he picked up the kitchen roll from the worktop. He pulled three sheets off the roll and mopped up the milky mess in front of Maureen. "I think," he said, "it's a bit more than that. He shakes a lot and his legs are a bit unsteady. He can't really be left alone."

"What do the doctors say?"

"He won't go. They'll tell him to stop drinking and smoking. Keeps insisting there's nothing wrong with him. I think he'll be dead by Christmas."

"They said that about the war."

Chan, Liam's Chinese student lodger, tiptoed down the passageway into the dark kitchen. He nodded politely to them, bending from the waist and smiling. "Hello," he said, pretending not to notice Maureen's swollen eyes and red nose.

"Hi, Chan," said Maureen.

"Yeah," said Liam, gruffly.

Sensing the extent of his intrusion, Chan grabbed a family-size packet of crisps from his open food cupboard and left as quickly as he had come in.

"He's paying rent here, Liam, ye shouldn't be so rude to him."

"I fucking hate having strangers in here. Why can't they fuck off home for summer?" He stood up and picked up his cup. "Let's go outside."

They sat on the cold stairs leading up to the garden. Neighborhood cats yowled at one another, creeping through the undergrowth.

"Una's very bitter," said Liam sadly. "I swear she's spending time with him because it upsets everyone."

"What the fuck is she bitter about? She wanted a kid, she's got one, she's got a good job and a nice house. Marriages split up but she's not exactly on her uppers, is she?"

"Yeah, well." Liam sighed and scratched his neck. "Una had hopes, I think."

"More fool her," muttered Maureen, watching the moonlight creep about the garden.

"I don't know if it is foolish," said Liam. "I think it's kind of hopeful. Coming out of Winnie and George's house and dreaming of a good life. It was one of the things I liked most about her. She's as sour as a leech now."

"Yeah?"

"Aye. Sees badness everywhere. It's a shame. Bitterness is a terrible thing. Sucks the good out of everything. What would you hope for? If you could have anything."

Maureen smiled at the thought of herself having a future but Liam was earnest. "Dunno," she said, looking out into the dark garden. "Maybe I'd go back to college. I'd be a curator and be surrounded by beautiful things. I'd be content, I suppose. Stop worrying all the time."

He tutted derisively, as if she'd never known a moment's grief. "What are you worried about?"

"What've ye got?" she said, chewing an imaginary match.

"Just you bide your time, wee hen," said Liam softly. "Don't worry about Michael. You'll see, one day soon, everything'll come up, Maureen."

Maureen smiled and nodded, but she knew she would be watching Michael night after night just to know where he was in the city.