Life's Fear

Chapter Forty-Three

"How dare you say that in front of our children!" Mum hissed at Dad.

From one ear, I had their conversation entering my head, and from the other I had whatever kid's show was on the TV. Warren must be overseeing the remote, and Yvette and Carmen were utterly powerless. I wouldn't be surprised if they were chattering to one another and giggling consistently, much to Warren's displeasure.

"You've been drinking too much as of late," Mum continued scolding, though her voice had lost the hiss she previously used. I don't think that would have gone down with Dad well if she had continued with the hiss. "You need to stop. What's gotten into you? You haven't been overworking at the council or anything."

Dad took his sweet time to reply, and I wondered if that was just to antagonise Mum. If so, she demanded, "Answer me!" in the hiss again. It was blatant that she did not want to raise her voice in case someone was eavesdropping, like Jesse and I, who exchanged a glance between us as we anticipated Dad's reply.

I wouldn't be surprised if he were to shout back at Mum or if he had a smirk plastered on his lips, trying to conjure up some egotistical remark she'd characteristically receive from one of the "troubled teens" she works with. He knew that was the best way to wind her up, obviously. But he's never been so curt towards her. It was unlike him, and that was due to the alcohol in his system.

"You can pretend all you want, but Blair is not herself, and it's because of that bastard that's controlling her." His tone had taken a dark edge I was not expecting.

I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed inwardly, letting my gaze drop to the floor. I'd previously been staring at the door, but unknowingly as my full concentration was dedicated to guaranteeing I was hearing the correct argument through the door.

Jesse reached out his hand to place on my shoulder, squeezing gently. When I looked up at him, he had an apologetic smile upon his lips. It might have attempted to be reassuring, but it wasn't. Maybe to someone else who was being me instead, but no... it was all my fault really. Was I to blame for Dad's abrupt excessive drinking? Jesse shook his head as if he was reading my thoughts.

"Perhaps you should give him a chance," Mum proposed softly. "He might not be all that bad, you know."

Silence.

"Have you met him? You've met him, haven't you? Is that where you went the other day? Errands my ass!" he hollered, and there was no mistaking that part of the discussion. "So, what's he like? Is he really a gentleman? Is he sweet? Does he hold Blair's hand under the table? Don't fucking give me that look, Fiona."

"Should we be listening to anymore?" Jesse whispered to me, leaning in, so his voice was barely audible even to me.

I nodded sternly. Dad didn't typically use profanity – or vulgar language for that matter – and if he was going to swear in conjunction with me as part of the topic, I needed to hear every single word of it. Even if it was something I shouldn't be listening into or need to hear for my own sanity. I wanted to. I couldn't bear not being knowledgeable.

"He's a nice lad," Mum finally settled on. Even when Dad was being exceptionally hostile towards her, she still retained tranquillity in her voice and her actions. She was good like that. She had to be to be good at her profession. If she lost her temper at any "troubled teens" then you can bet she wouldn't be a social worker for much longer.

There was a sudden crash that made even Jesse jerk back from the door. We stepped back near the stairs so if someone was to rush out, it would look like we were making our way upstairs to our rooms. We could still hear the commotion inside of the study as it wasn't too far away from us and they weren't exactly being quiet anymore. Well, Mum was the one being quiet. Dad was throwing all caution to the wind and letting the alcohol overwhelm his true inhibitions.