CHAPTER FOURTEEN

June 1956.

"Morning, darling."

Ted saunters into the kitchen, kisses me as he grabs a cup and pours himself a coffee before taking a seat at the end of the table where he starts up talking with the kids, already there and busy with their breakfasts, while I start preparing food for him. Seems like the day is actually going to start out fine—until Tim asks him that question.

"So can I come out with you next evening you're working, dad?"

I find myself frozen to the spot, desperately praying that Ted gives him the response I'm hoping for, even though deep down I know it ain't likely.

"Yeah, course. In fact you can help me out again this evening."

"Sure thing," Tim replies, grinning at his father as I cross the room and place Ted's plate in front of him and start to protest.

"But Ted, I thought we agreed—"

"Not now," he interrupts, all three of the children falling silent as they watch us. Guess this day isn't gonna be such a good one after all.

But despite knowing it won't get me anywhere I still carry on trying to change his mind. "No, you promised you wouldn't keep doing this. He's only nine still."

"I ain't a baby, Ma," Tim mutters under his breath as he glares across at me.

Ted laughs, as he pushes his untouched plate away and gets to his feet. But he ain't smiling no more as he turns to me while barking out an order to the kids. "You all go to your rooms now, me and your Ma need to have a talk."

As we stand there staring at each other and waiting for them to leave, I fold my arms, not prepared to let this lie for once. I know it'll end the same as always, that he'll do whatever he chooses anyway - but I need to know what's going on, what's so important that he wants to involve our son. "Where're you planning on taking him this time?" I ask, remembering them coming home so late the last time. "Actually doing a job, or are you just gonna end up fighting and hanging around some dive bar again?"

"I got a couple of easy jobs lined up I need to do this evening. He can come along for the ride, might learn something useful."

"What's going on, Ted? Why are you doing this again? It's what, the second time already this month you've dragged him out with you but it ain't right, he's still only a child."

Ted laughs. "Yeah? He don't need to be up early, ain't like he's got school in the morning, is it? Not like going there's gonna help him get anywhere in life anyway. It's important that the boy learns how things really work around here, how to handle himself."

"What? By helping you do Roy Evans' dirty work?" I exclaim, my voice a little louder than I anticipate. "Is that what you want him to be when he grows up, some criminal like him?"

"Some criminal like me you mean?" he sneers as he stares at me, until I can't take it no more and have to look away.

"No. you know that's not what I meant. I'm sorry." I try to smile at him, fail miserably as my doubts all run through my mind. "But what if you get caught up in any trouble again? Tim sure as hell don't need to see that again. Please don't take him out with you," I plead.

"Jean, quit worrying over nothing will you? I don't hear you complaining about where I get my money when we're all up to date on the bills or we've got cash to spare to spend on new clothes and shoes for the three of them instead of you trying to make do with goodwill cast offs." He slips his arms around my waist, pulls me to him, smiles at me. That confident, arrogant smile that's never far from the surface when he knows he's won. "Just be happy for once that we're doing okay, that we ain't got to struggle for a change. Besides you should be pleased, you're always saying I don't spend enough time with the kids."

"Yeah, okay. I'm sorry." I want to tell him that if he let me keep that job then we wouldn't need him to be doing this, all the staying out to god knows when half the week and risking getting locked up again for a few lousy extra bucks. But I know it'll be pointless, that he won't be interested in hearing it; that to him the conversation is over and his mind is already on other things.

He leans in, kisses my cheek as he glances at his watch then snatches up his cup and gulps down the last of his coffee. "It'll be fine; do the boy good to grow up a bit, learn about responsibility. Now I better get going before I'm late."

"But what about your breakfast?"

"I'll grab something on my way." And with that he's already in the hall, snatching up his jacket and car keys as he heads for the front door without a second glance back.

xxxxxx

"Ma, I'm bored playing in the yard, can I go to the park?" Curly begs, pulling on my skirt as I carry on chopping vegetables, preparing the dinner.

Glancing up at the clock, I nod at him. "Okay, you got half an hour. But only if your brother goes with you."

Curly runs off out the room, only to return a couple minutes later, his face clouded with a frown. "Tim won't come with me."

"Why not?"

Curly shrugs at me so I decide to settle this, call my oldest boy but don't get no response, find him sat out on the front step.

"Tim? Why won't you take your brother to the park?"

He don't look at me, just carries on watching the road, the cars passing by. "I'm waiting on dad."

I purse my lips, reminded of our disagreement this morning, that feeling I can't shake that this isn't right, that Ted shouldn't keep dragging our son into all this shady business he's involved in.

"He won't be home for a while yet. And you won't be going out anywhere with him until after dinner so you got time to do this. You've been out with your friends all day long so the least you can do is take care of your brother for a few minutes when I ask you to. Now off you both go. And take Angela as well. No arguments."

He scowls at me, but eventually gets to his feet then shoves his hands in his pockets as he kicks a loose stone across the path. "Tell her to hurry up, then."

xxxxxx

Can't be but ten minutes later that there's a knock at the door. Sighing, I wipe my hands on my apron, wonder who on earth it can be. Hope to hell it's not the cops again. Turns out to be some guy I don't recognise, standing there awkwardly on the front step, dressed in a cheap looking suit. From the look of him I figure he must be here trying to sell something. Not that he'll have much luck around here, no one in this neighbourhood's got any spare cash for knives or books or whatever 'must-have' thing he's gonna try to talk me into buying.

"Sorry, we ain't interested," I mumble, about to shut the door.

"No, wait. Mrs Shepard?"

"Who wants to know?" I ask.

Looking past him I spot the truck, the name of the lumber yard painted on the door and my stomach lurches. Guess Ted must be in some kind of trouble after all if there's someone from his work here. God, maybe he's skipped out of work... or even worse, had the cops turn up there. Maybe he's been arrested again. I feel myself start to blush, my cheeks burning as this stranger stares at me. Only as I look back I realise he seems about as uncomfortable as me and my embarrassment turns to dread.

"Please? Can I come in a minute?" He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, his face pale. "It's important; it's about your husband."

Nodding I turn and walk to the sitting room, gesture for him to sit in the armchair as I lower myself onto the couch. Suppose Ted really is in some kind of trouble. Seems like everything is happening real slow—although maybe not slow enough, because I'm pretty sure I don't want to hear whatever it is he's come to tell me, 'cause I don't believe it's gonna be anything good.

He's sitting there, staring at the floor as he swallows and wipes at his brow again, this time pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. "I'm Roy Underwood, I run the place up there. Your husband, Ted…"

His voice trails away again as he catches my eye.

"What's happened? What's he done now, Mr Underwood?" I whisper, his unease spreading to me as I push my hands deeper into my apron pockets, dig my nails into my palms as I try to ignore the fear spreading through me as he stumbles over his words, stopping and starting, until finally he forces out the news he's come here to share with me.

"No, he hasn't done anything, he's not in any trouble... Just, there was an accident... earlier this afternoon. I'm really sorry, Mrs Shepard, but your husband…"

I don't really hear any more of what he's saying; don't really matter what he's telling me, how or why it happened anyhow. 'Cause me knowing how it all went down won't change anything, and sure as hell ain't going to bring Ted back, make my family whole again. Or change the fact that the last conversation I ever had with my husband was a stupid disagreement over something that seems so unimportant now.

And then he suddenly stops talking, his eyes wide as he stares at the doorway.

Glancing up, I see Tim there, wonder how much he's heard. He must have seen the truck pull up from the park down the corner of the block; should have known he would have come back, that he'd need to find out what was going on if it might involve his father in some way. I call out to him at the same time as the guy starts up speaking.

"Son, wait—" his words trailing away as Tim bolts back out the front door while the tears stream down my face and I bury my head in my hands. "Is there anyone I can call for you, Mrs Shepard? Family, friends? A neighbour maybe?"

xxxxxx

The next few days pass in a blur. People who I don't barely know coming and going; strangers in and out the house, telling me things and asking me questions, making arrangements I don't want to have to think about. And it seems today won't be no different as there's a harsh knock at the door.

Maybe if I ignore it, they'll leave. Ain't like I'm exactly ready to see anyone anyway, sitting in my dressing gown still, no clue as to what the time is or how long I've been here.

But the knocking doesn't stop, if anything it gets louder.

Taking a deep breath, I wipe at my sore eyes and push myself up out of my chair. Why don't people understand that I want to be left alone? Only as I get to my feet I realise I don't have to deal with it after all. The door creaks as Tim opens it, his voice calm as he answers what sounds suspiciously like that busybody old woman who lives opposite us. Just what I don't need right now, another visit from someone who wouldn't have given me the time of day in the street a week ago, but who apparently wants to help me all of a sudden. Be nosy and poke about in my business more like, all fake concern and sympathy when all she wants is some bit of gossip she can pass on to all her friends.

"Thank you for this, but Ma ain't up to visitors right now. I'll let her know you called by though."

I can't make out her muffled reply, but apparently he ain't having none of it, his reply firm, sounds so much older than his years.

"No, really, it's fine, she don't want to see anyone right now."

Find myself almost smiling as I hear the door click shut again followed by Tim's soft footsteps on the floorboards as he enters the kitchen by himself, places a casserole dish on the counter.

"It's alright, Ma. I got rid of her for you. You hungry? Want me to warm this up now?"

I shrug at him as he stands there. "Not really, but you all should eat something."

"Okay." He busies himself with lighting the oven, before he turns back to me, watches me for a few minutes before he finally speaks. "You need anything else, Ma?" he asks as he refills my glass with water, pushes it in front of me.

Manage to shake my head as Curly and Angela's voice get louder and louder, their bickering echoing through the house as they head down the hall to the kitchen and the pair of them are still moaning and whining at each other as they appear behind Tim. I can't take it, don't want to hear them; need it to be quiet, for them to behave. 'Cause if everything seems okay then I can imagine Ted is alright too, can convince myself that maybe he's only gone away again for a little while. Pretend that one day soon he'll walk back through the door with a smile on his face and some lame explanation of where he's been. Because it ain't fair, he can't really be gone forever.

"Be quiet, both of you," I snap, but they take no notice, both of them talking over each other as they each blame the other for whatever they are fighting about. "Shut up!" I yell, and I sink back into my seat, still screaming and shouting at the pair of them, tears running down my face as the pair of them fall into a stunned silence. Angela is crying now too as she clings to Tim while Curly is close to tears too, his bottom lip trembling as he looks at me like he don't know me, backing up into Tim as I try to pull myself together and reach out for him.

Tim whispers something to Curly then ruffles Angela's hair before he turns back to me. "Ma? Why don't you go lie down for a bit?"

"But I should be..." My voice fades away, as my tears start up again so I'm unable to speak, to even focus on the three of them, even though they need me so badly to be strong for them.

"It's alright, I'll look after them. We'll be fine, I promise."

"Yeah, okay," I whisper as I get to my feet and let him lead me down the hall. I know this is all backwards, that I should be the one comforting them, be staying strong for my children.

But I can't.

Not yet.

And Tim sounds so sure of himself, like he can cope with anything right now. Tell myself that it's alright to let him help; that it's only for one more day—that tomorrow I'll do a better job, be able to handle this, be there for them all.

THE END

A/N: I'd just like to say a huge thank you to anyone who's read, reviewed, followed or favourited this story. I hope you like this final chapter and I'd love to hear what you think of it - and the story as a whole now it's complete.

Thanks again to everyone who's stuck with this, I really appreciate all of your interest and support :)