The Brightlings

14. Born in a storm

"Anger is an unpredictable beast," begins Constable Smiley, in a gentle, yet thoroughly condescending manner. "You can be happily going about your day, without a negative thought in your head, and then... Boom!"–she slaps her hand hard against her spiral-bound note book– "Someone or something flips the switch that releases the monster that lurks inside all of us. The ugly foul tempered monster that is waiting for its moment to try and make us do or say things that we could later regret."

Felix sits in silence, staring at his hands, limp and upturned on his lap like two pale dead spiders. The springs in the old sofa have relaxed under his weight to the point where he wishes that it would swallow him up. Anything to escape this mind numbing conversation.

"Do you recognise that feeling, Felix?"

"No. Not really." 

"Well, okay." She quickly scribbles a note. "In which case, I'll take it that you deliberately set out to knock one of your class mates unconscious on your first day at a new school." 

"He's not my class mate. He's in a different form."

Sergeant Mellor intervenes, his raised voice indicating that he is rapidly losing his patience. "You do realise the severity of this situation, young man? You were only released from an institution just under three weeks ago. Do you want to go back in there?"

"No." Come on sofa... 

"Do you like hurting people, Felix?"

"No." Swallow me...

"Well, it seems to me that you do. You like inflicting pain on other people."

"That's a lie." The scratching sound of Constable Smiley's pencil as she makes more notes is excruciating. He watches the fingers on his right hand begin to twitch.

"Have you ever thought about hurting your father, Felix?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure. I would never hurt my family."

"But it's okay to hurt other people, is it?"

And so the interview continues. Their line of questioning strikes Felix as being designed to catch him out, but he's seen enough television shows to detect the old good 'cop/bad cop' routine. He knows that the best thing that he can do right now is stay calm and keep quiet. His Dad asked him not to talk, and he has been through far worse than a half-baked interrogation from Mellor and Smiley in recent weeks. He's certainly not about to spill the beans to them.

Play it cool. Cool beans... cool beans...

Besides, his main concern is convincing Lucy right now. The call from the school office in his absence, had made his return to the cottage exceptionally difficult. Even more so after the earth tremor. Lucy's nerves were already in tatters, and Felix had never seen her so furious. At one point he was genuinely worried that she might keel over. If he feels guilt-ridden about anything today, it is that. She deserves so much better from him.

But he is still filled with hope that the answer to the question of Alan's whereabouts is now closer than it was before. The notes and photographs that his Dad left for him must hold more clues. And he is clinging onto Enid's story with every fibre of his being. What could she possibly stand to gain from lying to him? Why would she make up something as utterly crazy, but completely plausible, as that? He barely knows her, but he believes her. He trusts her. 

❖ ── ❖ ── ❖

The front door has barely closed on their visitors, when Lucy demands that they all visit Michael Hopper's parents, so that Felix can apologise for his actions. She stomps around the kitchen, banging cupboards and slamming drawers, until she eventually finds the local telephone directory, looks up the number, and makes the call. Felix listens in sheepishly from the lounge, as she awkwardly attempts to express remorse on his behalf. The call is brief, but she secures a meeting.