Chapter 29

Chapter 29

‘I just want the truth, Ryan. Is that too much to ask?'

Lorraine Marwood stared at her son, tearful but resolute.

‘Where you were last night? And the night before that?'

‘I was here, in this house, in my room, wishing I was dead.'

‘No, no,' Lorraine countered forcefully. ‘I checked your bedroom on both nights and there was no sign of you.'

‘I must have been in the loo or watching TV.'

‘I checked every room in house, Ryan, twice .'

‘Then I was probably in the garden, having a fag.'

‘I checked there too. Just like I checked your windowsill this morning. And what did I find? Muddy footprints. You've been sneaking out, I bloody know you have.'

For a moment, Ryan was silenced, shocked by his mum's outburst. His mother never swore, even though she'd had plenty of cause to over the years.

‘It's not what you think …' he conceded weakly.

‘It's exactly what I think,' Lorraine fired back. ‘It's exactly what I feared would happen.'

‘No, no. You're getting yourself worked up over nothing—'

‘I gave you a way back, Ryan,' his mother interrupted, devastated. ‘In spite of all the damage you've done, all the misery you've inflicted on those poor girls. I gave you a roof over your head, food, money, love . And I asked one thing in return. That you did as your probation officer told you, obeyed your curfew and tried to be a decent human being.'

‘Mum, please …'

‘I've tried with you, Ryan. God knows I have. But none of it makes any difference, does it? Because you're sick in the head …'

‘Don't say that, Mum.'

‘… sick in the heart, sick in the soul. Sick, sick, sick.'

She vomited out the final words, staring at her son with sad, tired eyes. Ryan knew he had to offer her something, to try and talk her round. But what could he possibly say?

‘Look, Mum, I'm sorry, OK? I know I haven't done as you – as they asked – but if you'll give me a chance to expl—'

‘No!' Lorraine countered. ‘I've given you more than enough chances already. I'm not interested in your "explanations", your lies. I've reached the end of my tether, son.'

And now she saw his expression change, fear infecting his guilt.

‘What do you mean?' he demanded.

‘I'm going to have to tell the authorities.'

‘You can't! They'll throw me back inside.'

‘I don't have a choice. I gave my word – so did you. But you broke your promise. I have to call your probation officer.'

Determined, Lorraine marched over to her handbag, tugging out her mobile. But as she raised it to her ear, Ryan was upon her, grabbing her wrist.

‘Please, Mum. I'll do whatever you ask … just don't call them.'

Lorraine wrenched her arm free, stepping away from him, fearful but resolute.

‘No, Ryan, you can't talk your way out of this one. I'm your mother, I know you.'

‘Go on then, do it,' Ryan challenged her angrily. ‘If you want to kill your only child, call them.'

And now Lorraine paused. In spite of everything, Ryan still had the power to affect her.

‘If you want to send me back to that hellhole, if you want rid of me, then call that bitch, grass me up.'

Lorraine hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keypad.

‘I just hope you'll be able to live with yourself.'

He was glaring at her now, fury writ large in his expression. But there was something else there that unnerved Lorraine – horror.

‘Do you remember what they did to me when I was in prison?'

Lorraine dropped her gaze, upset, not wanting to remember.

‘With the broom handles? The iron bars? The razor blades? Can you picture what I looked like when you visited me in that prison infirmary?'

Lorraine shook her head violently, pushing the thought away. It was an image of her child that still haunted her.

‘That's what you'll be sending me back to. And they won't hold back this time. They'll finish the job. They'll finish me . So think, Mum. Think hard. Because my future, my life, is in your hands.'

Still Ryan held her wrist, beseeching her to show him mercy. But when Lorraine finally looked up at him, there was resigned determination in her expression.

‘I'm sorry, Ryan, but you've left me with no choice. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do the right thing.'

‘Then I hope you burn in Hell,' Ryan exploded, spitting viciously at her before storming from the room.

For a moment, Lorraine stood motionless, devastated. Then angrily, she wiped the offending mucus from her face and marched over to the living room window, stabbing her mobile phone violently.

But as the call connected, she paused. Two smartly dressed men were walking up the garden path, their warrant cards already visible in their hands, stopping Lorraine in the tracks. What the hell were they doing here? Did they somehow know already?