Fic: Tears Of My Heart [Part Three]
Author: miss_peg
Artist: tromana
Link To Art: Here.
Word count: 27206
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Skins...ah well.
Summary: When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.
Notes: I was so excited to take part in the skins_bigbang and I am so glad that I finally took the time to write this story. I'd had it in my head for over a year and began it once, before realising that it needed more time than I was able to give it. I'm so proud of finally finishing it.
A massive thank you to tromana, who has literally been my everything throughout this whole process. My beta (you makes me a better writer), my cheerleader, my ideas bouncer, without you I don't think I'd have got through. Nor would I have the amazing art that you made for me. It's been a pleasure to do all of that for you too, in return. I can't wait for us to 'swap' art.
You should all check out her awesome skins_bigbang, which was her first proper Skins fic, not that you could possibly tell. Tick Tock.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
The sun gleamed down upon the metal wire of the run, bouncing off in all directions. Cook perched on the edge of the wall, with Wanda resting on his lap as he smoked a cigarette. He fucking hated smoking cheap cigarettes. They were probably mixed with herbs or some other shit; pad them out a bit instead of being full of tobacco. He didn’t care at first, was glad to have access to cigarettes, even if they did come off the back of a lorry, but after a few weeks it was taking the biscuit. It didn’t help that Naomi let him smoke a couple of hers every so often and they were top notch. They reminded him too much of the real stuff, making him crave it even more.
‘Fucking piece of shit,’ he cursed, throwing the half smoked cigarette on the floor and almost dropping the guinea pig. ‘Sorry Wandakins.’
‘You like her, don’t you?’
‘Like who?’ Cook asked, spinning around quickly at the sound of Gina’s voice; he frowned, furrowing his brow.
‘Wanda. You can tell what matters to you, who matters, you give people nicknames.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
‘How’s it going?’
He shifted across the wall to make room for Gina to perch beside him and they sat there in silence. Sometimes he didn’t want to answer questions. Whenever he saw his probation officer he got annoyed at all the questions asked and every silence was an excuse for him to ask more, none of which Cook ever felt like answering. Gina wasn’t like the probation service though; she didn’t care if he sat there without talking for five minutes or five hours. She just stayed, offering her support, without really saying a thing.
‘Michael, my probation officer, keeps on at me to get a job. I tell him I’m trying but he won’t listen, he tells me I need to start getting my life back. I don’t know how to.’
‘Good job you have friends in high places then, isn’t it?’ Gina smiled that glowing grin that spread across her whole face when she opened her mouth. She was beautiful, really rather beautiful, just like Naomi. He’d always thought she was fucking smoking, but Gina, well, if Naomi was going to grow up to look anything like her then she’d be lucky.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I have a friend,’ Gina informed him, scooping Wanda off his lap and holding her up to her face. ‘She’s the manager of a restaurant that’s looking for a kitchen hand; it’ll be basic work for not very much money. But the owner’s an ex-con, got out of prison ten years ago for petty theft, really turned his life around. I’ve set you up a meeting with him tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Nah, Gina, you didn’t need to do that,’ he muttered, stepping away from the wall. ‘I ain’t no chef.’
‘Good job you’ll be washing pots and moving plates around the kitchen then, isn’t it?’
He doubted he would ever get used to the kindness of the people in his life. He grew up in a house where his mum drank herself stupid and his dad pissed off with a new bird every week. He’d never had the stability of a loving home and he’d certainly never been treated the way Gina treated him now. The whole situation made him feel rather uncomfortable. He was independent, he lived his life his own way and he didn’t give a fuck about anyone else. Then again, no one ever gave him reason to give a fuck about them. Those that had were easy. If JJ or Freddie did something for him, he’d give them a big wet one and thank them profusely. Maybe he wasn’t such a fuck up anymore, maybe there was such a thing as second chances. Even if it took a near stranger for him to realise that.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, hesitating. ‘I’ve never really done that kind of thing before.’
‘You don’t need experience to put dirty dishes in a dishwasher,’ Gina noted with an assuring look on her face. ‘There might be opportunities to work your way up. Give it a go; you never know what you could be good at, if you don’t try.’
‘I don’t have anything to wear.’
‘I got you a suit.’
Gina handed him the guinea pig and disappeared back into the house. He would have followed her but her last words left him considerably stunned. There was a difference between a kind act and someone going out of their way to make someone else’s life better. When she returned a few minutes later with a suit bag, he stared at her with his mouth open wide. Inside was a simple black suit.
‘I can’t afford that,’ Cook gasped, staring at the suit in awe. He’d not seen anything that new for a long time.
‘My treat,’ she smiled, reaching out towards him.
‘No,’ Cook shook his head, pushing the material away. ‘No, I can’t accept it Gina. I won’t.’
‘It’s second hand and if you really don’t want me to buy you a suit then you can pay me back when you get the job.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can.’
The elation he’d felt a few minutes earlier had been replaced with deep seeded hurt and frustration. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and thank her wholeheartedly for everything she’d done, but something stopped him.
‘I ain’t a charity case,’ he snapped, dropping Wanda carefully into her run and standing opposite Gina with a scowl.
‘I’m not treating you like one. You’ve helped me out a lot around the house. This is my way of saying thank you.’
‘I thought my room and food was your way of saying thank you.’
‘Consider it a bonus.’
‘I ain’t done nothing to deserve this Gina, I can’t accept it.’
No matter how she dressed it up, Gina buying him a suit was verging on a charitable donation. He didn’t want to feel ungrateful towards her but he couldn’t shake the disappointment he felt at being one of those people others did things for.
‘Shut the fuck up for once in your life James and just take it. I won’t hear another word and I refuse to take it back.’
She sure had some balls did Gina, he thought as his lips curled into a smirk. Well, he could hardly say no when she was being so forceful. Fucking bitch, even if he had grown fond of her.
‘Fine.’
‘Good. Now make sure Wanda gets back in her cage, that run has holes in it, I don’t want her getting into the shed again.’
‘I told you that weren’t my fault.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t, just make sure the cage is locked.’
‘Will do Ginakins,’ he leant in and kissed her on the cheek, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. Swallowing his pride was the hardest thing he’d had to do since leaving prison. ‘And thanks.’
‘You’re very welcome James, now make me proud.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘You better had.’
xxx
‘Do you even know where we’re going?’ Naomi asked, rushing to keep up with Cook as he marched down the street.
No answer.
Cook sped up as they entered a large iron gateway with a rickety gate that looked like it had seen better days. Naomi stood close, cautious of the area they were in and the unfamiliar location. As she stepped closer still, Cook slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it tightly. He didn’t say anything, but she knew it was for his own sake as much as hers.
‘The man at the council says he works here.’
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Naomi asked, hesitantly. Cook unravelled his hand and took a step forwards, turning to walk backwards. He raised his arms, shrugging.
‘What is this Naomi? I thought you were with me?’
‘I am, I just want you to think about it before you go in there angry.’
‘I’m not angry,’ he snarled, taking a deep breath in order to calm down. He was angrier than he needed to be.
‘Fine, you’re not angry.’
Piles of rubbish and abandoned junk surrounded the whole yard as Naomi knocked on the prefabricated building’s door. They waited as the person inside cursed loudly, something banged and then the door swung open like a stripper removing a pair of trousers.
‘Whaddaya want?’
‘Are you Sam?’
‘Who’s asking?’ the tall, relatively skinny man asked, his eyes narrowing in on Cook.
‘I’m James, I’m your nephew.’
The man’s eyes bugged out as though he’d just witnessed a horrific car crash, his mouth agape. He stared at Cook, not taking his eyes off him for a second. That’s when Cook realised how blue his eyes were. He’d wondered as a kid where he got them from, since his parents had different colours to his.
‘I said whaddaya want?’ the man asked, glaring at them with those piercing blue eyes, an aggressiveness to his stare.
‘I was talking with Uncle Keith about my mum; he said to speak to you.’
‘How is Ruthie?’
‘She’s dead,’ Cook replied with little emotion in his voice. He’d struggled to understand what life would mean without a mother, even when he’d received the letter. The hardest part was hiding his feelings away. Any sign of weakness inside and he’d have ended up in the hospital wing. No matter how much his mother’s death still bothered him, he’d become very good at pretending it didn’t.
‘What?’
‘Died about eight months ago, that’s not who I’m talking about though,’ he informed him, standing up taller. His uncle stared at him like a little boy, just like the older men in the prison. He wasn’t going to stand there waiting to be patronised. ‘I want to know about Reggie.’
‘Dunno anyone by that name.’
‘Yes you do,’ Naomi cut in, noticing the glaze that came over his whole expression when Cook said her name. ‘I know you do.’
‘You don’t know nothing little girl,’ he snapped, turning to her quickly and getting a little too close. She could smell alcohol on his breath and the distinct scent of the scrapyard around them.
‘Fucking touch her and I’ll smash your face in,’ Cook shouted, pushing him back by the shoulder before squaring up to him.
‘You think you’re big and hard? You couldn’t smash my face in even if you had a bat.’
‘You fucking cunt,’ Cook screamed, lunging at him, his fists flying as the man laughed. ‘Come at me with a bat and you’ll be in a grave.’
Sam gripped hold of the material of Cook’s polo shirt, pulling him up to his full height before pushing him back across the yard. Cook stumbled, his feet falling out from under him as he landed on his back. The force of the impact and the taste of blood in his mouth sent his mind backwards in a spin. The taste of blood, the scent of decaying bodily fluids and the rush of anger spiralling out of control in his mind, disoriented him. He got to his feet and stalked forwards.
‘Are you gonna tell us about Reggie or what?’ Naomi asked, wrapping her arms around Cook’s shoulders, trying her best to keep him under control.
‘Let the fuck off me Naomi,’
‘Not until you calm down James, don’t do something to get yourself back inside.’
‘You been in the nick?’ Sam asked, his expression changing quickly before he put his front back up. Anything to hide what he was really feeling.
‘Yes I’ve been inside, I’ll fucking go back there if I need to, if you won’t tell me what I need to know.’
They stood facing each other, square on, their eyes never faltering. Cook didn’t want to back down and by the looks of it, neither did Sam. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his mother’s younger brother, all he knew was that he didn’t want to go away empty handed.
‘I don’t have anything,’ Sam shrugged. ‘Not for you. Get the fuck out of here; I’m supposed to be working.’
‘Drinking and smoking weed more like.’
‘You the fucking pigs now?’
‘Just leave it, yeah?’ Naomi tried, pulling Cook away as Sam disappeared back into his office.
xxx
The steaming hot tea cooled gradually as leaves floated across the top of her barely touched tea cup. The first mouthful had happened before, before her whole world had broken up leaving in its wake a dangerous trail. Of course, her life hadn’t physically broken. Emily and Naomi still came home after a day with Emily's family. Naomi still sat down at the kitchen table and drank the rest of her previous cup of tea like she so often did, before relaying the latest drama to her in full, dramatic fashion. If anything, her life hadn’t really changed. Emily and James still lived with them, the newest form of communal living and for the first time Naomi approved of it. No, everything carried on as it usually did. Except she'd received a phone call from someone she didn’t expect to ever speak to again. He'd just called up out of the blue. How had he even got her number? She cursed herself for not asking. They hadn’t seen each other in twenty years, let alone spoken on the phone. She didn’t really know what he looked like now.
After the call, she'd sat back down and wrapped her hands around her tea, barely conscious of the heat escaping from the cup until she had been left with a lukewarm liquid.
'Any water left in the pot?' Naomi called out as she entered the kitchen, only when she stopped opposite her mother did she take note of the faraway look in her eyes.
Gina didn’t move, nor did she show any sign of recognition whatsoever. Naomi prised the cup from her hands and took a brief sip before scrunching up her face in disgust. She’d never liked tea unless it was piping hot. She refilled the kettle.
'Mum?' Naomi shouted, sitting down beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder. The jerked reaction shocked her into silence, as Gina stared back in surprise. 'Are you okay?'
'Pardon?'
'What's wrong?'
'I, I can’t, I don’t, I.'
Her mother often acted a little scatter-brained, but the expression on her face and the look in her eyes was far from anything Naomi had ever seen from Gina. She knew her well, more than she cared to admit sometimes but even she was lost staring into her features.
'Something's happened.'
'I’m fine.'
'No, you’re not.'
'I will be.'
'You can’t promise that. You’re worse than a yoyo sometimes.'
'I haven’t suffered in years.'
'And that means anything?’ Naomi scoffed, holding tightly to one of her mother’s hands. ‘You know you can’t rely on the past to dictate the future. You’re never really cured of depression.'
She turned her head, frustrated by Naomi’s persistence. Sometimes she didn’t want to be held accountable to anyone; sometimes she just didn’t want to share what was going on inside her head. Their relationship had always been one-sided and quite frankly, she was fucking sick of it.
'Don’t you think I know that?’ she said, angrily. ‘I don’t need you acting the parent. I’m a full grown adult Naomi and it's time you had more respect.'
'I’ll respect you when you respect that I’m an adult now too and I’m more than capable of coping with your illness. I coped with it when I was thirteen, I can definitely cope with it now.'
'I’m not ill,' Gina shouted, doing nothing to relay her daughter’s worries. She glared at her all the same, in the hope that she would stop pestering her.
'Maybe not, but you will be if you bottle things up.'
The truth was a far greater risk than any lie she could muster. She would not be talked down to by her teenaged daughter, no matter how mature or worldly she became. Naomi had no right asking for her secrets.
'Am I not entitled to a private life? You kept me in the dark about your life for years. How can you expect me to trust you when you don’t trust me?'
'That's different,’ Naomi snapped. ‘I’ve changed.'
'Have you?'
The kettle clicked, signalling the boiling process had been completed. They stared at each other until Gina looked away, intimidated by the staring competition. The fear of her secrets ever getting out was too severe for her to entertain the childish game. Eventually Naomi stood up from the table and filled two mugs before carrying them out of the room. No, her life hadn’t changed, not really. After all, her secrets had been with her for so long, she couldn’t imagine a life without them.
Part Four
Part Five
[ Parts Six - Ten]
Artist: tromana
Link To Art: Here.
Word count: 27206
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Lots of swearing and a bit of violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Skins...ah well.
Summary: When Cook gets out of prison having served time for absconding, he moves in with Naomi, Emily and Gina. After the death of his mother, Cook is faced with questions about his past. With Naomi's help, they go on an emotional journey which results in a revelation that could change both of their lives.
Notes: I was so excited to take part in the skins_bigbang and I am so glad that I finally took the time to write this story. I'd had it in my head for over a year and began it once, before realising that it needed more time than I was able to give it. I'm so proud of finally finishing it.
A massive thank you to tromana, who has literally been my everything throughout this whole process. My beta (you makes me a better writer), my cheerleader, my ideas bouncer, without you I don't think I'd have got through. Nor would I have the amazing art that you made for me. It's been a pleasure to do all of that for you too, in return. I can't wait for us to 'swap' art.
You should all check out her awesome skins_bigbang, which was her first proper Skins fic, not that you could possibly tell. Tick Tock.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
The sun gleamed down upon the metal wire of the run, bouncing off in all directions. Cook perched on the edge of the wall, with Wanda resting on his lap as he smoked a cigarette. He fucking hated smoking cheap cigarettes. They were probably mixed with herbs or some other shit; pad them out a bit instead of being full of tobacco. He didn’t care at first, was glad to have access to cigarettes, even if they did come off the back of a lorry, but after a few weeks it was taking the biscuit. It didn’t help that Naomi let him smoke a couple of hers every so often and they were top notch. They reminded him too much of the real stuff, making him crave it even more.
‘Fucking piece of shit,’ he cursed, throwing the half smoked cigarette on the floor and almost dropping the guinea pig. ‘Sorry Wandakins.’
‘You like her, don’t you?’
‘Like who?’ Cook asked, spinning around quickly at the sound of Gina’s voice; he frowned, furrowing his brow.
‘Wanda. You can tell what matters to you, who matters, you give people nicknames.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
‘How’s it going?’
He shifted across the wall to make room for Gina to perch beside him and they sat there in silence. Sometimes he didn’t want to answer questions. Whenever he saw his probation officer he got annoyed at all the questions asked and every silence was an excuse for him to ask more, none of which Cook ever felt like answering. Gina wasn’t like the probation service though; she didn’t care if he sat there without talking for five minutes or five hours. She just stayed, offering her support, without really saying a thing.
‘Michael, my probation officer, keeps on at me to get a job. I tell him I’m trying but he won’t listen, he tells me I need to start getting my life back. I don’t know how to.’
‘Good job you have friends in high places then, isn’t it?’ Gina smiled that glowing grin that spread across her whole face when she opened her mouth. She was beautiful, really rather beautiful, just like Naomi. He’d always thought she was fucking smoking, but Gina, well, if Naomi was going to grow up to look anything like her then she’d be lucky.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I have a friend,’ Gina informed him, scooping Wanda off his lap and holding her up to her face. ‘She’s the manager of a restaurant that’s looking for a kitchen hand; it’ll be basic work for not very much money. But the owner’s an ex-con, got out of prison ten years ago for petty theft, really turned his life around. I’ve set you up a meeting with him tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Nah, Gina, you didn’t need to do that,’ he muttered, stepping away from the wall. ‘I ain’t no chef.’
‘Good job you’ll be washing pots and moving plates around the kitchen then, isn’t it?’
He doubted he would ever get used to the kindness of the people in his life. He grew up in a house where his mum drank herself stupid and his dad pissed off with a new bird every week. He’d never had the stability of a loving home and he’d certainly never been treated the way Gina treated him now. The whole situation made him feel rather uncomfortable. He was independent, he lived his life his own way and he didn’t give a fuck about anyone else. Then again, no one ever gave him reason to give a fuck about them. Those that had were easy. If JJ or Freddie did something for him, he’d give them a big wet one and thank them profusely. Maybe he wasn’t such a fuck up anymore, maybe there was such a thing as second chances. Even if it took a near stranger for him to realise that.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, hesitating. ‘I’ve never really done that kind of thing before.’
‘You don’t need experience to put dirty dishes in a dishwasher,’ Gina noted with an assuring look on her face. ‘There might be opportunities to work your way up. Give it a go; you never know what you could be good at, if you don’t try.’
‘I don’t have anything to wear.’
‘I got you a suit.’
Gina handed him the guinea pig and disappeared back into the house. He would have followed her but her last words left him considerably stunned. There was a difference between a kind act and someone going out of their way to make someone else’s life better. When she returned a few minutes later with a suit bag, he stared at her with his mouth open wide. Inside was a simple black suit.
‘I can’t afford that,’ Cook gasped, staring at the suit in awe. He’d not seen anything that new for a long time.
‘My treat,’ she smiled, reaching out towards him.
‘No,’ Cook shook his head, pushing the material away. ‘No, I can’t accept it Gina. I won’t.’
‘It’s second hand and if you really don’t want me to buy you a suit then you can pay me back when you get the job.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can.’
The elation he’d felt a few minutes earlier had been replaced with deep seeded hurt and frustration. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and thank her wholeheartedly for everything she’d done, but something stopped him.
‘I ain’t a charity case,’ he snapped, dropping Wanda carefully into her run and standing opposite Gina with a scowl.
‘I’m not treating you like one. You’ve helped me out a lot around the house. This is my way of saying thank you.’
‘I thought my room and food was your way of saying thank you.’
‘Consider it a bonus.’
‘I ain’t done nothing to deserve this Gina, I can’t accept it.’
No matter how she dressed it up, Gina buying him a suit was verging on a charitable donation. He didn’t want to feel ungrateful towards her but he couldn’t shake the disappointment he felt at being one of those people others did things for.
‘Shut the fuck up for once in your life James and just take it. I won’t hear another word and I refuse to take it back.’
She sure had some balls did Gina, he thought as his lips curled into a smirk. Well, he could hardly say no when she was being so forceful. Fucking bitch, even if he had grown fond of her.
‘Fine.’
‘Good. Now make sure Wanda gets back in her cage, that run has holes in it, I don’t want her getting into the shed again.’
‘I told you that weren’t my fault.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t, just make sure the cage is locked.’
‘Will do Ginakins,’ he leant in and kissed her on the cheek, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. Swallowing his pride was the hardest thing he’d had to do since leaving prison. ‘And thanks.’
‘You’re very welcome James, now make me proud.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘You better had.’
xxx
‘Do you even know where we’re going?’ Naomi asked, rushing to keep up with Cook as he marched down the street.
No answer.
Cook sped up as they entered a large iron gateway with a rickety gate that looked like it had seen better days. Naomi stood close, cautious of the area they were in and the unfamiliar location. As she stepped closer still, Cook slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it tightly. He didn’t say anything, but she knew it was for his own sake as much as hers.
‘The man at the council says he works here.’
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Naomi asked, hesitantly. Cook unravelled his hand and took a step forwards, turning to walk backwards. He raised his arms, shrugging.
‘What is this Naomi? I thought you were with me?’
‘I am, I just want you to think about it before you go in there angry.’
‘I’m not angry,’ he snarled, taking a deep breath in order to calm down. He was angrier than he needed to be.
‘Fine, you’re not angry.’
Piles of rubbish and abandoned junk surrounded the whole yard as Naomi knocked on the prefabricated building’s door. They waited as the person inside cursed loudly, something banged and then the door swung open like a stripper removing a pair of trousers.
‘Whaddaya want?’
‘Are you Sam?’
‘Who’s asking?’ the tall, relatively skinny man asked, his eyes narrowing in on Cook.
‘I’m James, I’m your nephew.’
The man’s eyes bugged out as though he’d just witnessed a horrific car crash, his mouth agape. He stared at Cook, not taking his eyes off him for a second. That’s when Cook realised how blue his eyes were. He’d wondered as a kid where he got them from, since his parents had different colours to his.
‘I said whaddaya want?’ the man asked, glaring at them with those piercing blue eyes, an aggressiveness to his stare.
‘I was talking with Uncle Keith about my mum; he said to speak to you.’
‘How is Ruthie?’
‘She’s dead,’ Cook replied with little emotion in his voice. He’d struggled to understand what life would mean without a mother, even when he’d received the letter. The hardest part was hiding his feelings away. Any sign of weakness inside and he’d have ended up in the hospital wing. No matter how much his mother’s death still bothered him, he’d become very good at pretending it didn’t.
‘What?’
‘Died about eight months ago, that’s not who I’m talking about though,’ he informed him, standing up taller. His uncle stared at him like a little boy, just like the older men in the prison. He wasn’t going to stand there waiting to be patronised. ‘I want to know about Reggie.’
‘Dunno anyone by that name.’
‘Yes you do,’ Naomi cut in, noticing the glaze that came over his whole expression when Cook said her name. ‘I know you do.’
‘You don’t know nothing little girl,’ he snapped, turning to her quickly and getting a little too close. She could smell alcohol on his breath and the distinct scent of the scrapyard around them.
‘Fucking touch her and I’ll smash your face in,’ Cook shouted, pushing him back by the shoulder before squaring up to him.
‘You think you’re big and hard? You couldn’t smash my face in even if you had a bat.’
‘You fucking cunt,’ Cook screamed, lunging at him, his fists flying as the man laughed. ‘Come at me with a bat and you’ll be in a grave.’
Sam gripped hold of the material of Cook’s polo shirt, pulling him up to his full height before pushing him back across the yard. Cook stumbled, his feet falling out from under him as he landed on his back. The force of the impact and the taste of blood in his mouth sent his mind backwards in a spin. The taste of blood, the scent of decaying bodily fluids and the rush of anger spiralling out of control in his mind, disoriented him. He got to his feet and stalked forwards.
‘Are you gonna tell us about Reggie or what?’ Naomi asked, wrapping her arms around Cook’s shoulders, trying her best to keep him under control.
‘Let the fuck off me Naomi,’
‘Not until you calm down James, don’t do something to get yourself back inside.’
‘You been in the nick?’ Sam asked, his expression changing quickly before he put his front back up. Anything to hide what he was really feeling.
‘Yes I’ve been inside, I’ll fucking go back there if I need to, if you won’t tell me what I need to know.’
They stood facing each other, square on, their eyes never faltering. Cook didn’t want to back down and by the looks of it, neither did Sam. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his mother’s younger brother, all he knew was that he didn’t want to go away empty handed.
‘I don’t have anything,’ Sam shrugged. ‘Not for you. Get the fuck out of here; I’m supposed to be working.’
‘Drinking and smoking weed more like.’
‘You the fucking pigs now?’
‘Just leave it, yeah?’ Naomi tried, pulling Cook away as Sam disappeared back into his office.
xxx
The steaming hot tea cooled gradually as leaves floated across the top of her barely touched tea cup. The first mouthful had happened before, before her whole world had broken up leaving in its wake a dangerous trail. Of course, her life hadn’t physically broken. Emily and Naomi still came home after a day with Emily's family. Naomi still sat down at the kitchen table and drank the rest of her previous cup of tea like she so often did, before relaying the latest drama to her in full, dramatic fashion. If anything, her life hadn’t really changed. Emily and James still lived with them, the newest form of communal living and for the first time Naomi approved of it. No, everything carried on as it usually did. Except she'd received a phone call from someone she didn’t expect to ever speak to again. He'd just called up out of the blue. How had he even got her number? She cursed herself for not asking. They hadn’t seen each other in twenty years, let alone spoken on the phone. She didn’t really know what he looked like now.
After the call, she'd sat back down and wrapped her hands around her tea, barely conscious of the heat escaping from the cup until she had been left with a lukewarm liquid.
'Any water left in the pot?' Naomi called out as she entered the kitchen, only when she stopped opposite her mother did she take note of the faraway look in her eyes.
Gina didn’t move, nor did she show any sign of recognition whatsoever. Naomi prised the cup from her hands and took a brief sip before scrunching up her face in disgust. She’d never liked tea unless it was piping hot. She refilled the kettle.
'Mum?' Naomi shouted, sitting down beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder. The jerked reaction shocked her into silence, as Gina stared back in surprise. 'Are you okay?'
'Pardon?'
'What's wrong?'
'I, I can’t, I don’t, I.'
Her mother often acted a little scatter-brained, but the expression on her face and the look in her eyes was far from anything Naomi had ever seen from Gina. She knew her well, more than she cared to admit sometimes but even she was lost staring into her features.
'Something's happened.'
'I’m fine.'
'No, you’re not.'
'I will be.'
'You can’t promise that. You’re worse than a yoyo sometimes.'
'I haven’t suffered in years.'
'And that means anything?’ Naomi scoffed, holding tightly to one of her mother’s hands. ‘You know you can’t rely on the past to dictate the future. You’re never really cured of depression.'
She turned her head, frustrated by Naomi’s persistence. Sometimes she didn’t want to be held accountable to anyone; sometimes she just didn’t want to share what was going on inside her head. Their relationship had always been one-sided and quite frankly, she was fucking sick of it.
'Don’t you think I know that?’ she said, angrily. ‘I don’t need you acting the parent. I’m a full grown adult Naomi and it's time you had more respect.'
'I’ll respect you when you respect that I’m an adult now too and I’m more than capable of coping with your illness. I coped with it when I was thirteen, I can definitely cope with it now.'
'I’m not ill,' Gina shouted, doing nothing to relay her daughter’s worries. She glared at her all the same, in the hope that she would stop pestering her.
'Maybe not, but you will be if you bottle things up.'
The truth was a far greater risk than any lie she could muster. She would not be talked down to by her teenaged daughter, no matter how mature or worldly she became. Naomi had no right asking for her secrets.
'Am I not entitled to a private life? You kept me in the dark about your life for years. How can you expect me to trust you when you don’t trust me?'
'That's different,’ Naomi snapped. ‘I’ve changed.'
'Have you?'
The kettle clicked, signalling the boiling process had been completed. They stared at each other until Gina looked away, intimidated by the staring competition. The fear of her secrets ever getting out was too severe for her to entertain the childish game. Eventually Naomi stood up from the table and filled two mugs before carrying them out of the room. No, her life hadn’t changed, not really. After all, her secrets had been with her for so long, she couldn’t imagine a life without them.
Part Four
Part Five
[ Parts Six - Ten]