None Existent Life

2. Summer of '88

The summer of 1988 was warm, too warm in fact, according to news reports Britain was heading for the warmest summer in nearly 30 years, with temperatures set to rise above those in the Mediterranean.

But fourteen-year-old James still stood in the mirror every morning, with the hot tap running, preparing to shave his face, he would stare for long periods, examining his chin, of course, there was nothing there, there never is, but for James, he always wanted to look his best.

School done for the summer and James arranged to meet his friends every morning, eleven am at the shops on the estate, it was a little late for him if he was honest, most mornings he would be awake for seven just hanging around until it was time to leave and meet his friends.

He had big dreams for a young boy, one day he would be a successful businessman, he wasn't sure what that business would be, but knew whatever it was, it would be successful.

He would have the most beautiful wife, with the big house and lots of cars on the drive, he imagined one day looking through his bank statements and seeing a whole row of zeros after the first number, it was a big dream indeed and a world away from the life he lives right now.

It wasn't the worst way to grow up, far from it, his parents were supportive of his dream's, perhaps they believed in him, maybe not, but regardless they encouraged him.

Mr & Mrs Springstein believed that by not encouraging their only child's dreams, they were preventing him the opportunity to become the very best version of himself.

Mr Springstein was no longer able to work the couple was hiding a secret from their son, at just 42 Mr Springstein had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer, it was terminal, and nothing that could be done to save his life, but their son seemed happy at the moment. They were not going to spoil the families last summer together.

"Hey, Dad, can I use your aftershave please" James called into his Dad, while wiping the excess shaving foam away from his face.

"Knock yourself out sport" Mr Springstein felt weak today, but continued to hide it from his son "who's the girl?" he called back cheerfully.

"No girl Dad, just meeting up with the lads again" James laughed at his Dad's response, he was always asking James who the girl was, no matter what his son asked him.

"Don't make plans for tomorrow son, remember your mom has booked us a caravan in Llandudno for the week" It was their first holiday in four years, and would be James' last holiday for another ten years to come.

"I know, I remember, hey Dad, can Darren come?" James was still calling out from the bathroom only now he was perfecting his hair, it was not unusual for him to make an effort, he was always smart and ready for any occasion.

"Why don't you come into the lounge and we can talk."

The house was small, a three-bed terraced house in the middle of a council estate. The lounge and kitchen are open planned to create the illusion of more space, and the bathroom was off the kitchen, which wasn't delightful when Mr Springstein had Indian food the night before, the smell would quite quickly stretch through the house. It was a small and very modest home, but it had been a happy childhood for James thus far.

James walked into the living room, noticing his Dad wasn't looking well, he noted that his Dad had quite a few days recently where he didn't look well. Still, his Mom had told him it was a hangover, every time James asked the question "What's wrong with Dad today, he doesn't look too good" his Mom came out with the same response.

"Oh, you know your Dad, he sat up last night drinking, I have no sympathy for him, it's most likely a hangover, all his own fault" so this time James did not bother to mention it.