The Broken Man Part 4

Moved to tears, Phil took hold of him. 'I'm sorry, son, but you can't go to your mother,' he said gently. Though well aware that it was Adam's right to see her, Phil realized it would not be wise. After all, he was just a child and, at the moment, dangerously vulnerable.

'Why can't I see her?' All of Adam's instincts told him the awful truth. In his heart and soul, he knew she had left him. 'Get off me!' His screams reverberated through the room. He fought Phil off and would have run from the room, but Phil caught him and held him.

'Listen to me, son.' His kind voice was calming. 'D'you recall what I told you ... about my darling wife and how the only thing I wanted in the whole wide world was for her to be all right?'

Tearfully, Adam nodded.

'And do you recall how, for reasons we may never understand, the Good Lord took her all the same?'

Another reluctant nod.

'Well, then, I've been thinking. Maybe your mum, like my dear wife, could never be made better on this earth. But up there, in G.o.d's Heaven, she doesn't feel pain any more; she's comfortable and at peace, and though you will always miss her, she'll be watching over you. She will never leave you.'

Deeply moved by Phil's gentle words, the surgeon cautiously approached Adam. 'I'm so very sorry. I know how hard it must be. I can promise you, we did everything humanly possible for your mother, but her injuries were many and her heart was not strong enough to carry her through.'

Adam looked up, his eyes marbled with grief. He began to sob, and soon it was an avalanche of grief. The devastating loss of his mother and the all-consuming hatred for the man who hurt her could no longer be contained.

In a trembling voice, he murmured, 'One day, when I'm bigger, he'll pay for what he did.'

'Who will, Adam?' Mr Hendon probed for the truth. 'Do you want to tell us about this person ... the one who must "pay for what he did"? Adam, can you tell me who you mean?'

Adam looked away. The surgeon's words were a timely caution to him, for he knew he must never tell. Not because he didn't want to, but because his mother had made him promise not to.

Just then the door opened and a nurse entered. After she had imparted her message to the surgeon, he politely excused himself. 'I'm afraid I'll have to leave you for a while, but please wait here. Someone will be along in a moment to have a word with you.'

They watched him leave.

'Phil?' Adam's voice trembled.

'Yes, son?'

'When the person comes, will they let me see my mum?' He felt as though his world had fallen apart. It was a strange and frightening feeling. 'I have to tell her something.'

Phil knew that feeling, and he saw it in the boy's face now. 'Adam, listen to me.'

'No! I don't want to.' Tearful, Adam turned away.

Phil persevered. 'Think about what you're asking, son. I know how much you want to see her, but it isn't right for you just now. Later, when everything is in order, I'm sure you can see your mother ... if you are still of the same mind.'

'Please, Phil, I need to see my mum!'

Phil tried gently to dissuade him. 'I do understand, but do you really think your mother would want you to see her now? Or do you think she'd rather you remembered your last conversation with her, when she was still able to tell you how much she loved you? Don't you think she would feel your sadness, if you were to see her now?'

Phil's wise words reached home. After what seemed an age, the boy took a long, deep breath and tried to be the man his mum would want him to be. 'Is my mum really safe now, Phil?' He needed rea.s.surance.

Phil promised him that she was safe.

Adam accepted what Phil had told him, though he found it incredibly difficult to believe that he would never again see his mother, never again hear her voice. Never again hear her laugh, nor run with her across the fields. In his heart he could see her beautiful smile, and that funny way she had of wrinkling her nose when she laughed out loud.

Suddenly the awful truth began to sink in, and the enormity of it all was too much for him to bear.

In a voice that was almost inaudible, he whispered to Phil, 'I'm really sad.' Winding his arms round Phil's wide waist, he confessed brokenly, 'I don't know what to do.'

'Aw, son, we can none of us do anything, because when the Good Lord calls us home, we have to go.' Phil held the boy tight to him. 'But you're not on your own, son, because I'm here for you. If I'm able, I will always be here for you.'

Thankful that he had Phil, the boy confided in a whisper, 'Phil, I don't know if she heard me promise. I need her to know that I made the promise.'

Choking back his emotion, Phil told him, 'Don't you worry about that, because she heard it all right I heard it too but y'know, son, sometimes we make promises and then, later, we regret them. You might need to think about that particular promise, the one you made to your mother. Maybe you won't want to think about it just yet. But maybe later, when you're not so very sad.'

Adam was resolute. 'If Mum had not made me promise, I would have told them everything ... about how he hurt her, time after time, hitting her and making her cry. I hate him for what he did, but she didn't want me to tell. Why did she not want me to tell?'

Phil measured his words carefully. 'Because she loved you so much, she did not want you to do something that might hurt you in the long run. I believe that was why she asked you to make that promise.' He lowered his voice. 'I think she wanted you not to tell, because if you told, then you would have so many awkward questions to answer. It would be a nasty business, with you caught up in it.'

Leaning forward, Phil placed his hands either side of Adam's face. 'All you need to know is that your mother loved you, and that no one will ever be able to hurt her again.'

Looking into Phil's kind, weathered face, Adam saw such honesty.

'Phil?'

'Yes, son?'

'She's died, hasn't she?'

'Yes, son.'

'Has she gone to the same place as your wife?'

'Yes, I'm sure she has.'

'Will they be friends?'

'I would like to think so.'

'But I'd rather my mum could be here with me, because then, when I get older, I could keep her safe always.'

'Ah, but that's not your job, son, because now she's in the safest place of all. Your mum was an angel on earth, but angels belong in Heaven. She'll be well looked after there.'

'I want her back, Phil. I miss her ... I really miss her.' Suddenly the full truth had hit home. He could no longer be brave; and his grief was overwhelming. Hiding himself in Phil's musty old coat, he sobbed as though his heart would break.

Holding him close, Phil took him to the couch, where he sat beside him, holding him until he sobbed himself to sleep.

A short time later, Matron arrived. On seeing the boy asleep on the couch, she went out and returned with a fleecy blanket, which she handed to Phil.

She watched him wrap it around Adam before quietly informing him, 'I'm afraid we have to discuss official matters.' She beckoned Phil to the other side of the room, lowering her voice as she told him, 'I am led to understand that you are not the grandfather after all. Is that true?'

Knowing he must, Phil told her his name and the whole story: how he had dropped Adam from the school bus and walked home with him down the lane; how he was on his way back to his bus when he heard the boy shouting. 'In a shocking state, he was, finding his mother like that, and his father running off like a spineless coward. I don't know if it was the father who hurt her, but Adam seems convinced of it.'

'So, why did you not inform us of these circ.u.mstances right away?'

'I gave as much information as I could, but it was your staff who chose to believe I was his grandfather, and besides, there were more urgent matters to deal with at the time, as you well know.'

'Well, I'm sorry, but since we have become aware of the truth, I'm afraid it was our duty to call in the authorities.'

'What authorities?' Phil recalled the officials in the office, and all his fears returned. 'Look, Matron, I make no apologies for letting you believe that I was his grandfather, because as far as I'm aware, he's got no one else.'

'I see.' As a woman, Matron was deeply sympathetic, but duty was her priority, along with the boy's welfare.

She explained, 'In the light of what we now know, this is a very serious situation. The boy's mother has died under suspicious circ.u.mstances, and the father has run away. Moreover, we are led to understand there are no close relatives at hand to take care of the boy.'

'I'll take care of him then. At least until the in-laws can be found.'

'I'm sorry, but I don't think that will be an option.'

'So, what will happen to him?'

'That's for the authorities to decide.'

Before he could answer, she left with the parting words, 'You do seem to have his interests at heart, and he obviously trusts you. If you could please continue to keep an eye on him, I'll be back presently.'

When she had gone, Phil paced the floor. This is a sorry state of affairs and no mistake, he thought, walking over to where Adam was sleeping. I can't imagine what might happen to you now, son. He gazed down on the boy and he shook his head in despair. No family to speak of, and no one but me to stand by you.

He understood the gravity of the situation. Unless Adam's father was found there was little hope of getting the child home. Possibly not even then.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, he sat down in a chair, laid himself back and closed his weary eyes.

Some few minutes later the nurse arrived with two other people.

Phil clambered out of the chair, one eye shut and the other on the boy. He still clung to the hope that, one way or another, he might yet be able to take the boy home.

'These people need to speak with you,' the nurse advised him. Having waved the visitors forward, she went to sit by Adam. When in his sleep he occasionally whimpered in distress, she tenderly lulled him quiet again.

Phil had been greatly unnerved at the sight of two very officious-looking people standing before him. The woman was middle-aged and dressed in a dark two-piece. The man was older, serious-looking, smart in light grey jacket and black trousers. He also carried a doc.u.ment case. They were the people Phil had seen in the office earlier.

The woman introduced herself and her colleague. 'My name is Miss Benson, and this is Mr Norman. We're here on behalf of Child Welfare and Social Services.' Her gaze s.h.i.+fted to Adam.

Phil had already guessed at their reason for being there, and he expected the worst. 'Child Welfare, eh? And may I ask, what it is you want from us?'

'I understand you are Phil Wallis?'

'That's right.'

'You accompanied Adam and his mother, yes?'

'I did.'

'Well, Mr Wallis, first, I apologise for all the questions.' She paused to glance at the sleeping boy. 'Please be a.s.sured, we're not here to cause distress at this unhappy time, but having been made aware of some rather unsettling issues, we're duty-bound to examine the facts.'

Phil was already on the defensive. 'Well then, I'll explain the "facts" to you, shall I?' He pointed to Adam. 'That poor child there has just lost his mother in the cruellest way imaginable. His father's run off and the boy thinks the world has come to an end. I would not describe that as being an "unhappy time". I would call that catastrophic, wouldn't you?'

'Well, yes, of course. As you say ... but as I've explained, we have a job to do, and in view of the notification we received, we will first need to clarify the details of your relations.h.i.+p with the boy.' Without waiting for Phil to respond, Miss Benson plucked a black notepad from her doc.u.ment case.

After quickly scanning her own notes, she had a number of questions, which she put to Phil in a quiet manner, being acutely aware that Adam could wake at any moment. 'If you could again confirm that you are Phil Wallis, and that you are no relation to Adam Carter.'

'That's right.'

'I'm sorry,' she seemed genuinely so, 'but I need you, please, to go through what happened.'

Phil was irritated. 'Why can't you let me get him home and we can answer your questions there?' He lowered his voice to an angry whisper. 'What good will it do Adam, sitting here just yards from where his mother lies dead? For pity's sake, let me get him home. I can a.s.sure you, neither me nor the boy is about to leave the country!'

'I understand your anxiety, Mr Wallis. Believe me, we also have Adam's best interests at heart. So, if you could, please, quickly run through the events that brought you and Adam here ...? Once we know exactly what the situation is, we can then decide which course of action to take.'

Phil had no doubt about what she meant. These were official people, and he appreciated that their specific task was to protect children from harm. If they decided Adam needed taking into care, temporarily or otherwise, there would be nothing that he or anyone else could do to stop them. Especially considering not only the seriousness of events, but the fact that he himself was neither a relative nor even a long-term friend. He was merely the driver of the school bus; in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Miss Benson now casually informed him, 'Oh, and incidentally, because of the information we received, the police have been notified. I understand, they are on their way as we speak.'

Her serious-faced companion, Mr Norman, now took a step forward. 'Of course, the father will obviously need to answer to the police. Adam, however, will initially come under our jurisdiction.' Gesturing to a nearby chair, he suggested, 'Maybe you would care to sit down, while we take you through the procedure?'

Phil flatly refused to sit down. 'Ask your questions.'

'Firstly, as we've already established that you are not Adam Carter's grandfather, can you please explain how you came to be here, with the boy?'

Phil explained, 'I drive the school bus and have done these many years. I had already dropped all the other children off, and as Adam was the last, I decided to walk him up the lane to his house. When we got to the gate, I saw the man I a.s.sumed to be his father; he came rus.h.i.+ng out of the house, and stood on the porch. I greeted him cordially, but he made no reply.'

He paused before confiding, 'It didn't bother me that the boy's father chose to ignore me; he's got a reputation of being a miserable sod, to say the least. Anyway, thinking the boy would be safe enough with his father, I took my leave of them.' He relived the scene in his mind.

'Please, go on.'

'Well, I was on my way back down the lane, when I heard Mr Carter yelling at Adam. Then all of a sudden this car sped past me. Seeing as it was the very same car that was parked in the drive, I thought it must be Adam's father. Whoever it was, they must have taken leave of their senses, tearing down that narrow lane like a bat out of h.e.l.l! Splashed mud all over my trousers, so he did, d.a.m.ned lunatic!'

'What did you do then?'

'Well, what else could I do but go back and find out why the boy was now calling. I found him in the lane crying and shaking he was and then I went back to the house with him and saw his mother, all broken and twisted at the bottom of the stairs. By, she was in a terrible way; she needed help, and quick. So, I did what needed doing: I sent Adam to call for an ambulance, while I sat and talked to his mother. I didn't even know if she could hear me, but I was hoping she could. That's what they say, isn't it talk to them, just in case they can hear you?'

'So then what? Did the father come back?'

'No! We saw neither hide nor hair of him. It wasn't long before the ambulance arrived. They tended the mother and put her in the ambulance. Me and the boy jumped in alongside. And now we're here, and that poor boy has lost his mother. And there you have it.'

'Thank you. So now we'll need to discuss the implications of what you've told us.'

'What will happen to Adam?' Phil asked anxiously.

Miss Benson's reply was curt: 'We'll be back shortly, and inform you of any decisions made with regard to Adam.'

No sooner were they gone than the door opened to admit two police officers a woman and her male colleague who were interested to learn what exactly Phil might know about Adam's father. Concerned that they were not of the same quiet disposition as the Child Welfare officials, Phil inched them over to the furthest side of the room. 'I don't want Adam to hear us talking,' he explained, and they fully appreciated his concern.

Over the next ten minutes or so, Phil impatiently answered all their questions; most of which he had already gone through with Miss Benson and Mr Norman.

The officers were sympathetic, but they questioned Phil about various aspects of his account. 'First, the medical staff were led to believe that you were the boy's grandfather. How did that come about?'