New Welsh Short Stories Read Online Free Page B

space – and see off cats. Daisy’s doing a great job at that.’
    *
    He’s working on the loft conversion when his mobile rings. ‘Come home, Chris, will you? If you can.’
    She’s been crying. What, love? Tell me. He rushes to her, wraps his arms round her.
    â€˜It’s Bella.’
    â€˜What about Bella?’
    â€˜The way she was today when she picked him up. Shouldn’t have been driving, honest - to - God. Her eyes weren’t right. Did you ever take stuff?’
    â€˜No way,’ Chris says, his heart in his mouth, not wanting to hear about Bella’s antics – but your mind charges ahead of itself imagining bad things, the worst. And thinking defensively, Not my fault, she’s grown up now, it’s her mam, her scummy pals, not my responsibility.
    But it is his responsibility, with Jarvis in the equation.
    â€˜Why – you think…?’
    â€˜She wasn’t right. That’s all I can say.’
    â€˜But you let her take him?’
    Carly flushes. Hastily Chris backtracks. He knows exactly what Bella’s like. The small, sad eyes peeping, alert for ambush. The shrieking laugh when nothing’s funny. Coming with me he is, I’m his mam, ta for having him, say tara, good boy, and stop that fucken racket. Something like that.
    â€˜I couldn’t stop her, Chris.’
    â€˜â€™Course not. Sorry.’
    â€˜Worst thing was, the poor dab didn’t want to go. Howling he was – and it hurts her when he prefers us, how wouldn’t it? That’s why she smacked him – not hard but still – I told her straight and she flared up. Nothing you can say, is there? I didn’t ask straight out about drugs – didn’t want her to go off on one.’ Carly rubs away tears with the heels of her hands. ‘We need to consider taking him.’
    Chris hears himself saying, ‘We might still have our own baby, cariad. ’
    There he goes again, foot in mouth, opening up her wound. Unsure he wants a baby at his time of life, mind. Broken sleep and a bellyaching teenager when he’s in his sixties. Carly’s not forty: she has every right to want children. Whenever they discuss it, her antennae quiver, intuiting his selfish thought: Been there, done that. Which is only part of the truth, for another part of Chris would love a child with Carly and would do it differently this time, because she’s made – he hopes and trusts – a better man of him.
    â€˜That’s not going to happen,’ Carly says in a businesslike way . ‘Anyway, Chris, however is that relevant? It’s our Jarvis I’m concerned for.’
    What can Chris say? Bella rolls round here wasted, all bullshit and bluster, and there’s no knowing what substances might be found in her flat.
    Chris sees not only her in his daughter, but himself, and it’s harrowing. Meanwhile a perfect, heart - shaped, half - submerged face peers out through the flab. Bella’s mint - green eyes pierce him. Chris doesn’t court that stare. He’s been afraid of Bella since she hit her teens. She’s had him shit - scared and running.
    He looks past Carly into the garden where, after the night’s rain, everything’s lustrous. He should walk Daisy.
    â€˜And anyway,’ Carly bursts out, ‘I love Jarvis – I love him! No baby would ever take his place.’
    He tightens his arms round her; feels the throb of her yearning. Sod’s Law: the motherly women are childless.
    â€˜So?’ she presses.
    â€˜We can only try.’
    â€˜Without the Social being involved. And, Chris, it could be expensive.’
    â€˜How do you mean?’
    â€˜We might have to pay her off.’ Carly shoots him a straight look.
    Spot on. But Bella would break any agreement whenever she felt like it; keep snatching her boy back. So: offer an allowance. Maybe take out another no - interest card and generate monthly cash