Earth
Alex
âSo where the Hell have you been? Why did you just disappear like that?â Then before I could say another word, I burst into tears.
Damn, Jalholm. Damn my bloody tears. I shouldnât be crying in front of him, I should knock his head off. How dare he turn up here, now, weeks after Davidâs gone⦠weeks too bloody late.
My anger flared. âWhy, 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 itâs too late, far too late. Davidâs gone. Dead for all I know. And itâs all your fault. You could have helped. But no, you couldnât do that. That would have been too much to ask. You just ran away, again.â
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 Iâd just said.
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So despite my anger, I found myself saying âCome on in. You can explain it all to me once your out of the rain. Iâll make a hot cup of tea⦠that should help.â
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.
âHurry and drink your tea. You need a hot shower to warm yourself through. There are some spare clothes of Davidâs upstairs that should fit you.â
I really didnât 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 hadnât said a word, not a single word since Iâd opened the door. Iâd shouted and screamed at him, invited him into my home, given him tea, a shower and a change of clothes, and heâs not said a word. Not even a âThank Youâ.
As I reached the door, turned and walked back the other way, I realised that I was pacing. I didnât even remember standing. I forced myself to sit on the sofa. Heâll be down soon. He bloody well better be. And then heâll talk. Heâll tell me everything.