The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost Read online

  The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost

  Jamie Adams

  Austin Macauley Publishers

  The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Copyright Information

  Introduction to Characters

  Part One – The Fathers

  Chapter 1 (Matt)

  Chapter 2 (Josh)

  Chapter 3 (Alex)

  Chapter 4 (Matt)

  Chapter 5 (Alex)

  Chapter 6 (Josh)

  Chapter 7 (Alex)

  Chapter 8 (Matt)

  Chapter 9 (Josh)

  Chapter 10 (Alex)

  Chapter 11 (Matt)

  Chapter 12 (Josh)

  Chapter 13 (Alex)

  Chapter 14 (Josh)

  Part Two – The Sons

  Chapter 15 (Sam)

  Chapter 16 (Max)

  Chapter 17 (Alfie)

  Chapter 18 (Sam)

  Chapter 19 (Max)

  Chapter 20 (Sam)

  Chapter 21 (Max)

  Chapter 22 (Alfie)

  Chapter 23 (Sam)

  Chapter 24 (Max)

  Chapter 25 (Alfie)

  Part Three – The Anxious Ghost

  Chapter 26 (Michelle)

  About the Author

  Jamie is a teacher who has studied a geography degree back in the nineties because of his love of nature and the outdoors. He found environmental education especially important and soon became a teacher for the primary-age group.

  Jamie enjoys reading and watching all kinds of theatre productions, from high dramas to lively musicals. His love of writing shines through in everything he does.

  About the Book

  Three guys in their thirties have something in common. Their children all go to the same school. One day a tragic event leads to them having to deal with a lurking aftermath which draws them into each other’s lives and causes them to rethink their attitudes to just about everything.

  The children tell the second part of this story, ten years after the initial events. The dust seems to have settled until one of them uncovers information that throws everything back into chaos.

  The third part… well that will have to wait.

  Dedication

  For my mum, for always standing by me and

  supporting me throughout.

  For my nan, for looking after me when I was young and showing me how to dream.

  Copyright Information

  Copyright © Jamie Adams (2019)

  The right of Jamie Adams to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781528917360 (Paperback)

  ISBN 9781528961875 (ePub e-book)

  www.austinmacauley.com

  First Published (2019)

  Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

  25 Canada Square

  Canary Wharf

  London

  E14 5LQ

  Introduction to Characters

  Matt is married to Hannah, and they have a son named Max.

  Josh is a school teacher who is separated from his wife and has a son called Sam.

  Alex is married to Michelle. They have a boy and a girl, Alfie and Tess.

  Part One – The Fathers

  Chapter 1 (Matt)

  The rain was thundering down against the car bonnet. The window wipers were going at it but seemed to have no effect in clearing the cloudy windscreens. The clock read 8:20, and I knew we were going to be up against it if we wanted to make it to school in time. I blame her! We could have just sent him to the local primary school. It was just down the road. We could have practically fallen out of the front door and arrived at school each day. Instead of this, Hannah had to fight for a place at a school in the next town. She said it had better results. She reckoned it would far improve his chances of doing well in life and set him up well for secondary school. What a load of rubbish! All it did was put an eight-mile journey down single carriageway roads in between us and where he needed to go each day. A road which was winding and often blocked with farm vehicles and slow-moving buses, parked cars and the occasional horse. It was his special assembly today. I could not let him be late! Each year group only did one play a year, and this was going to be it for him; his big day.

  She could not even be bothered to attend the thing. She had a meeting which she simply could not miss! I had arranged to go into work late, but she refused to change her meeting as she said it meant losing client confidence. Clients came first. At least that is how it seemed to me. She never changed her things around for me or him. Poor Max never moaned or whinged about it, but he must have known that she could have gone if she felt like it. Anyway, I clapped and made a fuss of him, regardless.

  He bundled into the back seat, chucked his bag next to him and closed the door, shutting out the rain. I waited for him to click his seatbelt together and put my foot down. With any luck, we would make it in time, with moments to spare. His mother stood under the shelter of the porch way and smiled at him sweetly. How fake it all felt. She was probably working out who she could screw over today, and how much she could swindle them for. After all, lawyers are always thinking of their next win. They preyed on misfortunes and opportunities which usually arose out of conflict. Max wiped down his coat and then called out to me.

  “Turn up the radio, Dad!”

  Ed Sheeran was on. I knew exactly what this meant. He started to join in with the lyrics. I soon joined in as well. Before long, being late had slipped my mind. We belted out the song and swayed our heads in time with the beat. He punched the air periodically, and I beeped the horn at the end of the chorus.

  “I love it when we do that, Dad.”

  The local countryside had quickly passed us by. We were now entering the neighbouring town and seemed to be doing well. As the radio blurted out the news, I began to become aware of how much my thighs hurt me right then. It had been a tiring ‘leg day’ at the gym the night before.

  So many people thought I was one of those gym obsessives. I wasn’t. I admit it made me feel good. Well…it made me feel good afterwards at least. When the endorphins have been released, and you have worked up a sweat, your body automatically feels relaxed; and stress is relieved a bit, even if momentarily. The main reason I started going was to give me some space from HER. I did it to get me out of the house. Originally it was just twice a week, but now it was almost every day. Addiction?! Not really. Avoidance tactic?! Yes – that is a better way of describing it.

  I may have avoided her more than ever lately, but I needed to make sure Max knew I was always there for him. That was the point of today. I had booked the morning off from work especially to watch his Easter play. He had asked me to several times, so I had to make sure I came. Even though his rehearsals at home had been a bit uncomfortable, he couldn’t help it. She put his nerves on edge. Some people said he had speech and language issues, but I could see that was not the case. When he was comfortable, he spoke crisply and could get across his points clearly. He was happy to share his opinions with me. We had great chat
s and I loved when we did car karaoke. The stuttering always subsided a bit when he began to sing.

  Anyway, here we were. Parking was a nightmare, but we had made it with minutes to spare. I walked him into the atrium, and he told me he was looking forward to it but was afraid he might screw up his lines. I reminded him that he was going to get a KFC treat after school as a reward for working so hard. He kissed me, and I sought out a seat. Just as I sat down, I noted Alex just a few places along. He nodded at me in a cool but nondescript way. I returned the nod subtly and tried to get myself comfortable on one of those awful plastic, far-too-small chairs. I wondered if Alex’s boy had got a chance to be seen by that footie scout. Or was it just bullshit? Even when we were teenagers, I could never tell when the bullshit ended and the truths began… Not when it came to Alex. He was a good guy, but something made me think he fantasised too much. I guess being stuck with a cow like her, he had to have a good imagination to keep himself sane. Hmm. Where was she today? Not like her to miss a school event.

  Lights went off. Lights went on. Oh, there was that teacher again. Max thought he was amazing. His speech was short and sweet. Fingers were crossed. I glimpsed Max looking a cross between pumped up and on a knife edge. I hoped he would try and enjoy the show.

  Chapter 2 (Josh)

  All he cared about was buffing up, toning his muscles and eyeing himself up in the mirror. I knew this because you could sometimes catch him glimpsing himself in the camera of his phone, as if about to take a selfie. We all knew what he was doing. He was checking his form. Was self-obsessed. What a brute! If only I had time to go to the gym more. Then I could beef up like him. Instead, I just looked slender; a bit awkward and flimsy in comparison.

  Marking books was my time consumer. Every night I spent nearly two hours catching up on marking maths and English books, tweaking my lesson plans and adapting smart notebooks ready for the following day. Every day we lived in fear of observations, book scrutinies and inspections. We had no choice but to work all evening, every evening, just to keep afloat. That is why being a separated father was so hard for me to handle. Teaching does not fit well with bringing up a child. Luckily, the mum and I got on well. We had split many years ago and never really fell out. She just knew that being in a relationship was not right for me. Well…not with a woman at any rate. Although I am not sure if she knew deep down that I was gay.

  Part of me thought I would end up married one day and just tow the line and be straight like everybody else. For now, I just threw myself into work and hoped for the best. I wanted to become a head teacher one day and maybe, just maybe, even make a difference in the world of education. At least I was on track. My boss liked me. I had some responsibilities at work. My kids kept on making good progress. I just needed to keep my head nice and clear. I needed to keep away from the ‘Tinder’ app. I needed to mark and plan and work and drive forward so that I didn’t get dragged into that sordid world of dating apps and pointless hook-ups. I could manage all of that. Well…some distractions just kept on creeping in.

  Anyway, he rushed in, having a few words of encouragement for his son before his big moment. I could see his perfect teeth shining, and his hair unmoving in the breeze that the half-held open doorway was creating. I collected my class together sheepishly, marking them off on the register and ushering them towards my TA, who stood, supportively, keeping them calm and getting them settled into the right places. Max raced up to me, excited. I hoped that he could keep control of his nerves and get the speech out. Hopefully, with his dad in the background, he could pull it out of the bag.

  The hall was filling up quickly and the head teacher came over to talk to me about whether or not the children were going to go over to their parents afterwards for a hug and chat. She seemed to think it was better if the kids just took their applause and then left the hall before the parents could get up. That way, there was no chance of losing anyone. Everyone was a bit on edge, as a school child in a neighbouring village had been abducted by his criminal father just a week ago. I accepted her instructions and sat down with my script, ready to prompt anyone who forgot their lines. Suddenly the lights went off, and then there was an awkward moment while they found the switch to make the stage lights fade in. As the lights focused, I returned my fix on his outline. His body looked radiant in the half light, with his muscles clearly defined; and his chiselled chin striking in the distance, standing out amongst the melee of the largely feminine crowd. I do not know why he intrigued me so much. I resented him to a large extent, but, in spite of that, I somewhat admired him.

  As I stood there, the crowd hushed, and my heartbeat seemed audible. I looked at the class and could see their excitement bubbling. A few looked a little sick but still keen. The thing with kids is they often cannot control their emotions. Excitement leads to nerves. Nerves can lead to unpredictable bursts of vomiting. I took a deep breath and went for it.

  “Good morning, everybody.”

  The whole school replied, “Good morning, Mr Johnson.”

  “Welcome to the Ravens class spring assembly.”

  Off we went. No stopping us now…

  Chapter 3 (Alex)

  “Mummm!”

  I wished he would give it a rest.

  “Dadddd!” he went on.

  It made me wonder why his mum never answered. I was too busy trying to get knots out of Tess’ hair.

  “What’s wrong now?” I replied anxiously.

  Alfie stormed in with a red face and swollen, angry cheeks.

  “I can’t find my football socks anywhere!” he announced.

  “Try under the bed,” I said, trying to remain calm and de-escalate his crossness.

  “Ouch,” squirmed Tess softly, as I caught yet another knot.

  She was always so relaxed. She never let anything get to her. She was ten times cooler than Alfie, whose hot-headedness got him into scrapes—left, right and centre.

  He stormed out again and slammed the door to his room. I winced and hoped that he could find those damn socks, or we would never hear the end of it. The clock was staring at me and reminding me that we hadn’t got much time left. I went to find Michelle.

  The distant noise of a bath filling, coupled with an aroma of scented steam made it obvious that she would not be coming this morning. When we woke up this morning, she told me that she had had a bad night’s sleep, and her headache was back. Women use headaches as excuses to get out of things, but this was not like her! She always liked to be involved in school-related stuff. She loved the banter between mums. Her favourite thing was pricking her ears up and listening intently for any titbits of gossip that she could soak up from the gaggle of parents, who would usually surround her on that packed and bustling playground. Maybe this time she was actually feeling a bit sick. Quickly I realised I should attend to this in a sympathetic, understanding way. After all, she had cared for me, like a private nurse, when I had man flu last Christmas.

  “Are you alright?” I tried, gently.

  She turned off the tap to the bath and opened the window slightly to let out some steam.

  “Have fun today. I bet the assembly goes well.”

  I could tell she was not feeling very well. She kept holding her head; sort of wiping her brow as she spoke. I had not seen her look like this for a long, long while. Thinking back, I should have realised that this was out of the ordinary for her. Instead of prying further, I left her to it, planting a quick kiss on her forehead and then rushing down the stairs.

  Alfie and Tess soon followed, and we collected our things and burst out into the driveway, where they ran to the car; Alfie calling shotgun as usual to make sure he got to sit in the front passenger seat. I asked if he had kissed his mum, and he simply said the bathroom door was shut. Tess went on to say, “I hope Mummy gets better soon because I want to go swimming later.”

  When we got Tess off to class, and I had signed Alfie in, I went to find a seat next to someone I barely knew and sent Michelle a text. Quickly I switched off
the phone and tucked my coat under my chair. I gave a slight nod to Matt as he rolled in, just in time. The lights came on and that teacher did the introduction. It did not cross my mind that today was going to turn out so black and dismal and full of anger.

  Chapter 4 (Matt)

  The thing with school assemblies these days is they tend to combine the classes together, so you end up with 60 kids in each performance, taken from two classes. It meant that lots of kids had non-speaking parts. That is why I was grateful for Max getting a chance to say some lines.

  The whole production was quite basic but effective. It told the story of the life of Roald Dahl, and they had cleverly changed some pop songs to fit in nicely. Someone had decided to take the old Pussycat Dolls song from back in the day, Don’t Cha, and make it fit with a scene about George and his marvellous medicine. It went something like, “Dontcha think my medicine’s so good, Grandma. Dontcha think my medicine’s the best… By far…” It made me laugh, and I admit Alfie did a good job as George. He kind of always looked a bit menacing anyway, so that role suited him well.

  A few kids screwed up their lines or forgot to bring the right thing onto stage at the right time, but generally, it was quite a good laugh. I wanted Max to get on and do his bit, so he could take it easy again. I spotted him sitting quietly and looking awkward just below the edge of their worn-out stage. Several times I tried to catch his attention, but he was glued to his script, following each line and, no doubt, re-learning his words again. I remembered hating being in school plays and doing everything I could to get out of having a speaking part. I usually managed to wangle being the props boy or hiding as one of the boys in the crowd. Max definitely always faced his fears head on. My eye was caught by a little kid telling a joke about one of Roald’s friends being beaten repeatedly by the headmaster when, awkwardly, Max strolled on.