For a moment, Denise’s eyes strayed from the shambles in the living room to the TV. She was ready to launch another broadside at him for his viewing habits – he could waste a whole day watching Dog the Bounty Hunter and Ice Road Truckers – but momentarily she paused. He wasn’t glued to these staples today – for the first time in living memory he was actually watching the news. The screen was dominated by terrible pictures from last night’s fires. There were reporters at each scene relaying the latest news – overnight a mother of two had died – and this was the national news, not local. Southampton was suddenly on the map for all the wrong reasons.
‘A change from your usual rubbish,’ Denise commented drily, casting an eye in her son’s direction. But he seemed not to hear her – his attention was totally fixed on the screen. As was customary now there was endless amateur footage of the fires (not to mention the many eyewitness accounts of publicity-hungry meddlers) being replayed, meaning that the news channels could replay the fires as ‘live’ hour after hour. It was strangely hypnotic to watch – the huge flames from the timber yard exploding upwards as the warehouse roof collapsed – but still her son’s trance annoyed her. She couldn’t have him lying about, cluttering the place up. Not today.
She gave him a little kick.
‘What the fuck?’ he spat out, snarling at his mother.
‘You need to shift. I need to be tidying.’
‘Big night, is it?’
‘Callum…’
‘Got something nice in store for him, have you?’
‘Watch your mouth,’ Denise replied, her anger colliding with a strange and unnecessary sense of shame. What did she have to be ashamed about? She was a single woman, with many good years left in her, why shouldn’t she seek out a little affection? A little love? She got precious little from her own family.
‘Now shift before I say something I regret,’ she continued, bending to pick up the discarded magazines. ‘Come on, out!’
Still he didn’t move. Denise could usually predict his every thought, his every action – he was her only child and she had spent her whole adult life raising him. But something was different about him today. He was unreadable.
‘Why do you let him come here?’ Callum said suddenly. ‘He treats you like shit and still you go back for more.’
‘He does not -’
‘He’s a parasite. He takes what he wants and if you ever stick up for yourself then -’
‘That was just the once.’
‘Still hurt though, didn’t it? If you had any self-respect, you’d shut the door on him.’
