Rival Sons Read online

  “See you soon Zoe, love.”

  “See you soon, Granddad,” Zoe responded putting an extra inflection on the word granddad just to get under Kyle’s skin—it worked.

  “Send Emma out,” Kyle said to his father without looking at him.

  Frank nodded and made his way to the house.

  Chapter Ten

  The shouting had started as soon as they got in the house. Kyle had shouted at Emma that he couldn’t understand what she was thinking, letting Zoe go off with Frank like that. Zoe had shouted at her father, that he shouldn’t talk to her mother in that way, before storming off upstairs and slamming her bedroom door behind her. And then the argument between Kyle and his wife really started, not in the raised voices that they’d used as they entered the house, but home truths were aired.

  “What exactly do you expect from us, Kyle?”

  “What do you mean, what do I expect?”

  “Exactly that?” Emma bit back with frustration, “We’ve come up here to be with you while you’re going through a tough time, but it’s a fucking shithole and we’re not happy. Now, I know Zoe’s a pain in the arse at the moment, but I have some sympathy with her if I’m being honest. There’s nothing here for her to do and sitting around with your mother and me all day isn’t exactly good for a seventeen-year-old girl. She’s bored out of her mind to the point of depression and sitting watching a woman die isn’t going to help her state of mind. So I thought fuck it, let her go with Frank. To be honest, I don’t think he’s the man you remember at all. He’s a harmless old drunk. He might have a past, but it’s exactly that, past, done, gone. And don’t get me wrong, your mother is a lovely woman and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know her but fuck, I can’t stand being up here. It’s an absolute hole! Apart from your mum and the occasional chat with that chubby nurse when she pops in, I don’t see anyone—but I’m happy to do all this because I love you. But, for fuck sake don’t go having a go at me because I wanted rid of a moody teenager for the afternoon.”

  Under different circumstances Kyle would have understood Emma’s position. But there were no normal circumstances as far as his father was concerned.

  “Well, I’m sorry I dragged you up here. I didn’t exactly want to have to do that. I think it’s best if you and Zoe go back south. I’ll take care of Ma alone. It was a mistake to ever think it would be OK for Zoe to be up here. I wanted her to meet her grandma before it was too late, but she’s always had an unhealthy interest in Frank. I should have come alone.”

  “You’re not listening to me at all, are you?” Emma said exasperated. “I’m here gladly, because I want to support you, I love you and there’s no way you’re going through this on your own. But please, realise that this situation is stressful for me too, and I might make the odd error of judgement. I’m sorry for allowing Zoe to go with Frank, I didn’t think it through.”

  Kyle saw tears forming in his wife’s eyes. He reached out and pulled her into an embrace that they both needed. “No, I’m sorry,” he said.

  Emma looked up at her husband and they kissed each other deeply. Kyle felt himself grow in his trousers. Emma reacted to the stirring and pushed herself hard against him. The couple tore unconsciously at each other’s clothing and before they knew it they had collapsed naked onto the sofa. Kyle was inside his wife and they made frantic love, both coming almost instantly and rolling apart exhausted. They hadn’t been together in that way since they’d been in Scotland. There had been too much going on. But in the intensity of the crossed words, both had seen what was really important to them. All of the frustration, pain and stress of the past few weeks had been released in that brief moment of closeness. They lay in post-coital relaxation and hugged each other on top of crumpled clothes.

  When Kyle’s mobile phone vibrated and glowed on the bedside table at a little after four am, he knew the news could only be one thing. He picked up the phone and saw ‘Ma’s House’ displayed on its screen. The buzzing had woken Emma too and she looked at Kyle with dread.

  “Hello?” Kyle said with the phone pressed to his ear.

  “Kyle, it’s your Da. She’s gone, son, she’s gone.”

  Frank’s voice was cracked and tear-filled. Kyle couldn’t speak. His natural reaction was for words of comfort to his father, but he fought them back. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything kind to this man—even now. Emma threw her arms around Kyle and kissed lightly at his shoulder. Kyle couldn’t be sure that she’d heard Frank’s words, but she’d known the purpose of this pre-dawn call.

  “I’ll be right over,” Kyle managed into the phone. He didn’t let Frank reply before disconnecting the call.

  The room went dark again as the phone light died. Emma hadn’t let her husband go. He dropped the phone into his lap and returned his wife’s hug.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  Kyle’s eyes filled with tears that couldn’t be seen with no light in the room. Emma could feel him crying, his shoulders rocking up and down as she pressed herself as tightly to her husband as was possible.

  “I need to get over there. There are things that will need to be done and I’m not leaving it to that old bastard,” Kyle said, sniffing up his tears. He switched on the bedside light and stood naked at the side of the bed.

  Emma’s eyes strained into the light. Even in this saddest of moments and with her eyes sore, she couldn’t help but look at her husband and feel entirely happy that he was hers.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Kyle pulled on clothes from a pile he’d left next to the bed. Emma took her clothes from the wardrobe on her side of the bed.

  “Should we wake Zoe and tell her?” Kyle asked.

  “No, we’ll let her sleep. She’ll sleep until mid-morning. I’ll come back and see her.”

  Emma wanted to be there for her husband when he first got to his parents’ house, mainly because she didn’t want him facing his lifeless mother alone, but also because she knew there was potential for arguments between Kyle and his father. Once the initial shock was over, Emma would be able to come back to Zoe.

  Kyle put the landing light on to guide them down the stairs. Half way down, Zoe appeared at her bedroom door full of sleep and dressed in pink pajamas. Despite how grown up and difficult she’d become, when she was tired and dressed for bed Kyle always felt his daughter looked like his little girl, the child he played with when on leave from the army. The little girl who would sit on his knee and watch Disney films while he fell asleep.

  “What’s going on?” Zoe asked before answering her own question, “It’s Grandma, isn’t it? She’s dead, isn’t she?”

  Emma turned back on the stairs and went to her daughter. She held her and confirmed what she’d guessed.

  “You’re going there now?” Zoe asked.

  Emma nodded.

  “Wait, I’m coming too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It wasn’t yet five am and, when Frank opened the front door to Kyle, Emma and Zoe he smelled like he’d washed with a barman’s cloth. It wasn’t clear if the smell was from last night or he’d started drinking already. It was probably a combination of both.

  “She’s in there if you want to see her,” Frank said, pointing in the direction of the living room where they’d been visiting Violet for the past few weeks.

  Kyle wasn’t sure if he wanted to open that door or not. Emma held his hand in support and encouragement.

  “Have you notified anyone yet, Frank?” Emma asked.

  “Notified who?” Frank asked confused. It was an understandable question considering Frank had barely been present when the doctors or nurses had visited. Emma had been around to deal with things.

  “Don’t worry, Frank, I’ll take care of it.”

  “How did you know she’d died?” Kyle asked without looking at his father. There was almost an accusatory tone to the question. Kyle hadn’t looked at him since being in the house, he hadn’t spoken to him eith
er until now, but he couldn’t work out how Frank, who slept upstairs, had discovered Violet.

  “Believe it or not, Son, I love—loved—your mother. Her breathing was shallow when I got in last night. I kept coming down, more than usual. At around two-thirty there was a rattle in her breath, I sat with her until it stopped.”

  Frank cried. The sight was alien to Kyle and he felt uncomfortable seeing it. Zoe moved to her grandfather and hugged him. It took every fibre of Kyle’s being to stop himself from stepping between them. In normal circumstances he would have, but today he’d have to let it pass. He felt Emma’s hand clutch tighter, she knew her husband’s instinct. Kyle turned the door handle to the living room and went through to see his mother.

  People often say that when someone passes, they look rested. Kyle had a very different experience of death. War rarely left rested faces on the bodies of their victims—if it left a face at all. In Kyle’s experience death etched permanent pain, fear and suffering into the deceased. He could not bear the thought of seeing that look on the face of his own mother. Thankfully it wasn’t there.

  The light in the room was soft, dimmed by the switch on its lowest setting. Kyle and Emma stood in silence looking at Violet’s lifeless body. She wasn’t there. Kyle didn’t recognise the form in front of him as his mother. She’d been frail when he first arrived back in Scotland and had continued to get more so over the past few weeks but what lay in the bed now was not someone he recognised. He stared in disbelief at the duvet covering her. Her form beneath it barely caused a ripple as she had become so thin. Kyle cursed himself for not noticing how much she had deteriorated. While she was talking and animated, she had such presence, it was easy to be distracted. Resting on the pillow, Violet’s face was drawn and grey. Lines ran deep around her open mouth. Her eyes were shut, and Kyle was thankful that she’d in all likelihood gone in her sleep. Her hair looked thin, like wisps of cotton wool that had been pulled at and left to droop.

  Emma’s hand had not let go of her husband’s. He squeezed hers tight in thanks for the support she was giving him. He wasn’t able to express his thanks in words yet.

  “She looks so different.” Kyle said vacantly.

  “She’s not there anymore, my love.” Emma said, confirming that every thought that had passed through Kyle’s mind had also gone through hers.

  “It’s at times like this I wish I could believe in God.”

  Emma didn’t respond verbally, but she released her husband’s hand and hugged him tightly at the waist.

  “I should make the call to the doctor,” Emma said. “When you’re ready, of course.”

  Kyle nodded.

  They stood in silence for a few moments more and then it was interrupted by another voice in the dining room. It was a voice Kyle knew. Graham was in the house and he sounded angry.

  “Where the fuck is she? What the fuck’s happened? I want to see my Ma.”

  The shouting was muffled through the wall, but still clear enough to make out every word. Emma looked at Kyle, confused and concerned.

  “Graham,” Kyle said, rolling his eyes and making his way to the door to see what was going on in the next room.

  Chapter Twelve

  “What’s going on out here?” Kyle said in hushed tones as he entered the dining room to be faced with his brother, father and Zoe, who didn’t appear to know where to look.

  Graham’s face still bore signs of yellowed bruising. He was healing well, but he was momentarily jumpy on seeing his brother come out of the living room. He composed himself quickly and adopted his tough guy persona. Even through his grief, Kyle enjoyed seeing Graham react that way—he had the upper hand on the supposed criminal kingpin. Any fears that Emma had raised on hearing of their altercation were unfounded: yes, Graham was dangerous, but he clearly feared his brother—despite the bravado.

  “Oh look, boy wonder’s here,” Graham said with a sneer. “Guess you’ll be fucking off again now that Ma’s gone.”

  “Look Graham, this isn’t the time, OK,” Kyle responded.

  “No, no, I guess you’re right,” Graham said. “Of course, this isn’t really the time to meet your wife and daughter either, but I guess we don’t have a choice.” Graham turned to look at both Emma and Zoe in turn and addressed them, “Hello ladies, I’m Graham, Kyle’s younger, better looking brother.”

  Emma smiled, a polite but reluctant smile. Zoe still seemed dazed by the whole situation.

  “Your brother’s right, Graham. Can we all just be civil to each other, if not for each other, for your ma.”

  Frank’s words dumbfounded Kyle. For the first time in his life, he found himself agreeing with his father. The tension in the room was high as everyone stood in silence, grief, hatred and shock.

  “I’ll put the kettle on and make some calls,” Emma said, as she moved across the room and put a hand on her daughter’s back. “Come on Zoe, you can give me a hand.”

  With the girls out of the room Frank pulled out a chair from the dining room table and sat down. He gestured to the other chairs around the table, encouraging his sons to sit as well. Kyle and Graham paused like naughty children, looking anywhere but at their father.

  “Sit down,” Frank demanded, in a tone reminiscent of the one that he’d commanded these streets with for decades.

  Feeling even more like naughty children, the brothers took seats. All three men around the table had been in some uncomfortable positions in their lives, but never had they felt as uncomfortable as they did now. Kyle’s military training wouldn’t allow him to fidget but his body ached to do so. Blood pumped through him, flushing his ears hot as he fought the urge to just get up and leave. Graham was not as disciplined, and the tops of his arms could be seen flexing as the audible cracks of his knuckles from under the table echoed through the silence. Frank stared at his sons, knowing he had lost them both long ago, two boys, so different and yet both filled with hatred for a father who was barely worthy of the name.

  “Now, I know we’re never exactly going to be friends,” Frank started with sadness cracking his voice, “but your mother has just died and if we’re ever going to agree on anything it’s that we all loved her deeply. And, she loved us. So for her, we’re going to have to pull together and make sure she gets the send-off she deserves. Once that’s done, I guess we’ll go our separate ways again, if that’s what you want. But what’s happened here has made me wake up, you’re my boys and I hope we can have a relationship after this. Kyle, I love your family, I’ve met them both and got to know them over these past few weeks. Your mother and I spoke about it regularly, we’d have blazing rows about the fact I’d kept her from her son and his beautiful family. I know she’d never show the outside world that she disagreed with my ways, but you’re both old enough now to know she was different behind closed doors. I’d like to see more of Emma and Zoe, if you’d allow it.

  “Graham, I know we’ve had our differences about how things should be run around here. But it’s not my business anymore, so I’ll let you do what you think is best. I don’t agree with the drugs, you know that, but I accept that it’s a different world these days and it does kick up some cash to me so I can hardly complain, can I?”

  For a moment Kyle had almost started to believe he’d been harsh on his father, that there was some humility and regret there. But clearly it was the heightened emotion of the situation.

  “So, you’re prepared to just sit back and let this piece of shit carry on poisoning people and ruining their lives as long as you get a bit of cash on the hip?” Kyle spat. “You know, there’s been the odd occasion over the past few weeks where I’ve thought maybe I’ve been harsh, maybe I should allow you to see Zoe a bit more. But fuck no, have you seen what he’s turned this place into?” Kyle pointed at Graham, “It’s a fucking wasteland of zombies and abandoned businesses. But fuck it, hey, as long as ol’ Frank Gordon is still getting his cut, who gives a shit? Well, I fucking do. I’ve put myself through hell
to protect this country, but I come here and I wonder what the fuck I’ve been protecting it from. So, yes, I’ll be civil while we sort out Ma’s funeral, but once that’s done, we’re gone, and you won’t be hearing from me or the girls again.”

  Graham had been itching to jump in throughout his brother’s rant, but Kyle hadn’t come up for air to give him the opportunity. As soon as the final word left Kyle’s lips, Graham was off.

  “Oh, hark at the fucking war hero. Tell me something, while you were out there protecting this country, what sort of mess were you and your brothers in arms leaving in the countries you invaded? Don’t come here with your holier than thou attitude trying to make out like you’re some sort of fucking saint just because you’ve been off fighting some hollow fucking war.”

  There was so much wrong with Graham’s picture of what Kyle had been doing in the Middle East that Kyle couldn’t even begin to put him right. And, if truth be known, he didn’t want to. Kyle didn’t care what Graham thought of him and his choices. He just wanted to get through the next week or so and never see these two men again.

  Frank hadn’t expected his little intervention to go so far south so quickly and that probably demonstrated better than anything why he’d lost so much of his grip on the underworld. He sat dumbfounded as his two sons ranted. He couldn’t really argue with Kyle’s points, and had no clue about anything Graham was saying, he hadn’t watched the news or read a paper in years—and when he had, he’d only done so if he’d been involved in something newsworthy and he wanted to see if it had made the press. He sank back into his chair and eyed the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room. There’d be something in there to take the edge off all of this shit, maybe he’d get lucky and drink himself dead, choke on his own vomit as he slept or weaken an already fading heart. Frank wasn’t exactly going to take his own life, that wouldn’t be any way for the great Frank Gordon to go, but if it happened by accident he wouldn’t be too bothered.