Earth

Alex

‘So where the Hell have you been? Why did you just disappear like that?’ Then before I could say another word, I burst into tears.

Damn, Jalholm. Damn my bloody tears. I shouldn’t be crying in front of him, I should knock his head off. How dare he turn up here, now, weeks after David’s gone… weeks too bloody late.

My anger flared. ‘Why, Jalholm? Why? You could have helped us. You could have helped David. Instead you just up and disappear. And now you have the nerve to turn up here on my door when it’s too late, far too late. David’s gone. Dead for all I know. And it’s all your fault. You could have helped. But no, you couldn’t do that. That would have been too much to ask. You just ran away, again.’

As I finished, I looked at his face and saw the strain behind the smile that he had fixed there, saw the desperation in his eyes, saw the sorry creature that stood in the rain. The sorry creature that still tried to smile despite all the hurtful things I’d just said.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

So despite my anger, I found myself saying ‘Come on in. You can explain it all to me once your out of the rain. I’ll make a hot cup of tea… that should help.’

Jalholm silently edged passed me into the house. I made the promised cup of tea and then we sat opposite each other in the living room, Jalholm on the sofa and I in my armchair. He hugged his cup tightly in two shivering hands, and it was only then that I saw how wet through he was.

‘Hurry and drink your tea. You need a hot shower to warm yourself through. There are some spare clothes of David’s upstairs that should fit you.’

I really didn’t understand why I was saying such things, or why I was being so nice to him. I wanted to hear his story. I wanted to know why he disappeared. But for some reason my flaming maternal instincts had kicked in, and I was being nice to him instead of giving him the third degree.

I showed him the bathroom, set out some clothes and returned to my armchair. What the hell was I doing? I should be grilling him not mollycoddling him.

I played back all I had said, and then realised that Jalholm hadn’t said a word, not a single word since I’d opened the door. I’d shouted and screamed at him, invited him into my home, given him tea, a shower and a change of clothes, and he’s not said a word. Not even a ‘Thank You’.

As I reached the door, turned and walked back the other way, I realised that I was pacing. I didn’t even remember standing. I forced myself to sit on the sofa. He’ll be down soon. He bloody well better be. And then he’ll talk. He’ll tell me everything.