Trigger Warning: This chapter includes themes of homophobia and the use of homophobic slurs
The next couple of days were shrouded in a depressing pall as we did our best to comfort and support Ash as he slowly recovered from what had happened to him with many ups and downs along the way. For the first day after the incident he barely left our bedroom, Mum bringing us up meals, drinks and anything else on a tray. He didn't seem to want to eat anything, however much I implored him, although he did have some toast before bed which I took as a promising sign. I was by his side constantly as he clung to me like a security blanket, even trips to the bathroom having to be accompanied at first as if he was afraid Sheila was going to jump out from a cupboard and start hurling abuse at him again. At one point, only a few hours after she had left, I tried going downstairs to get him a drink but as soon as I rose from the bed he reached out to grab my arm. As I looked back at him his eyes were filled with fear, tears brimming up and threatening to spill over. "Please, don't leave me," he begged, making my heart break as I saw this wonderful person put through so much undeserved pain. I smiled softly, climbing back onto the bed with him and softly stroking his hair to try and comfort him.
"It's okay baby, I'll never leave you, I promise," I cooed softly as I tried to sooth him.
"Really?" he asked between soft sobs.
"Really Ash," I replied certainly, leaning forward to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead as I stroked his hair, "I love you so much."
"I love you too," he replied as I held him tight, wishing I had the power to go back in time and stop what had happened to him. He started to open up a little more the next day, it was slow, but he took small steps, gradually coming out of his shell as I did my best to be patient and understanding. Sadness was with him in every moment, his mothers words ricocheting around his mind like a cancer, poisoning him and causing him to even question what he was doing with his life. It scared me seeing him like this and it made me wonder how we would have coped if he didn't have the loving support network of myself and my parents to take care of him. It didn't bear thinking about.
Finally on the third day he seemed to be feeling much better and he came downstairs to join us for breakfast. Mum was overjoyed, giving him a big cuddle and smothering his face with kisses, the relief she was feeling obvious to us all. Me and Dad virtually had to pry her off him and she apologised for being overzealous, but Ash quickly put her fears to rest by giving her another quick hug of thanks. We sat down to eat and thankfully we were able to talk pretty normally, Dad talking about work and Mum telling us about a new garden centre that had just opened up on the outskirts of town. Apparently there was a cafe attached that did luxurious afternoon teas and she suggested that we could all go together, once Ash was feeling up to it of course. We all looked over at him as he pondered, considering whether he was ready to step out of that big, scary front door and into the wider world. The world that had dealt him such a harsh hand, one he had been battling to overcome ever since. "That sounds really nice Pippa," he replied with a soft smile, "maybe we could go tomorrow?" he suggested cautiously.
"Tomorrow sounds fine to me, what do you think boys?" she asked, turning to myself and Dad as we both nodded our approval enthusiastically, my hand placed on Ashley's thigh under the table to give him an encouraging squeeze.
"It'll be nice to get out of the house," Ash added quietly, looking down at his hands, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry that you've had to put up with me for the last few days," he added sadly.
My Mum responded, quick as a flash, "You don't need to apologise sweetheart," she explained, "you are family and we will always be here for you, no matter what."
"Mum's right baby," I added, "we all love you so much."
"Damn right," Dad added, a single tear rolling down his cheek in a rare moment of emotion. He reached out and took Ash' hand as he continued, "You're like a son to me Ash, you really are..." I could tell he wanted to say more, but he was too choked up to continue, Ash squeezing his hand and thanking him for his words, knowing how hard it must have been for him.
"I'm glad that the two of you are better parents than my real ones," Ash said, smiling happily at them both as we all shared this moment together. It was nice, peaceful and quiet, interrupted by the sound of Dad's stomach grumbling. We all laughed together at it's demands for food.
"I guess someone thinks we should have something to eat" he chuckled as he grabbed a box of cereal and started to pour it into his bowl. "Can you pass me the milk Bruce?" he asked and just as I was picking up the carton from the table we heard a knock at the door. All four of us turned in unison to look in the direction of the hallway, remembering what had happened just a couple of days earlier.
"I'll get it," Ash said cheerily, getting up from his seat, reasoning that "it's probably just the postman!" As I watched him leaving I felt a pit form in my stomach, a warning that something bad was about to happen, a sixth sense of some kind kicking in, warning me of dangee. I rose from the table without even thinking as I heard my lover open the door, followed by his pained and confused voice floating down the hall.
"What are you doing here, Mum?" he said, his voice quivering, sounding like he was about to burst into tears.
In a flash I darted towards the dining room door and out into the hallway, striding towards the door and more importantly, my boyfriend. As I got closer to the door I was surprised to see Sheila was looking clean and sober, wearing a plain blue dress and a pair of weathered tennis shoes. Her eyes were still distant and haunted, coloured by years of abusing her body and mind with alcohol and other substances, but she almost looked like an entirely different woman to the one that had burst into our bedroom just three days earlier. As much as my mind was screaming at me to push her away and slam the door in her face I remembered Dad's words, instead standing behind Ash. I gently took his hand in mine to let him know I was there, allowing him the chance to deal with this himself before I intervened. Apparently I had gotten to the door so quickly that Sheila hadn't been able to respond and so Ashley took a deep breath and repeated himself.
"Mum," his voice wavered, "why are you here?"
She looked at her son, then at me, then to the floor before speaking. "I wanted to apologise, to you both," she said at a volume barely louder than a whisper
"What?" Ash asked in disbelief.
"I wanted to apologise," she repeated, "for what happened the other day."
"You mean when you burst into our room and called us faggots?" I interrupted, unable to hold down my anger for a second longer. She physically recoiled at the word, a hint of regret flashing across her face as she was reminded of what she had done and what she had said.
"Yes..., yes, for that..." she added weakly. "Please son, could I come in, so we can talk properly?"
Ash turned to look at me, unsure of what to do. "It's up to you Ash," I said encouragingly, giving his hand a squeeze and waiting to see what he would decide.
"Okay, you can come in," Ash replied, "But on one condition. I want you to say sorry to Pippa and Neil too."
"I... I can do that," Sheila said with a meek smile on her face, looking shocked to have been granted her request. I couldn't deny it had surprised me too. After everything this woman had put Ash through, he was still giving her a chance. I pondered whether I could do the same if I was in his shoes? Familial bonds are strong and hard to break, even in situations like Ash'. It was clear he had always wanted his mothers love, giving her chance after chance after chance despite always being let down and broken by her selfish ways. Sometimes I just wanted to shake him and tell him to cut her out of his life completely, but I knew it was his decision to make and that it was my job to respect that decision and support him regardless, even if it blew up in his face in the end. He allowed her inside the house and we made our way down the hallway and towards the living room. Mum and Dad were both standing in the dining room door, looking on as we approached them, Mum looking concerned whereas Dad was on high alert, ready to step in and intervene if needed.
"Do you mind if we talk with Sheila in the living room, Pippa?" he asked softly, pleading with her with his eyes, knowing she had every right to refuse after his Mother's last unannounced appearance and the turmoil it had caused.
Mum looked uncertain, but before she could answer, Sheila spoke up. "Neil, Pippa, I'm really sorry for bursting in here the other day. I know I shouldn't have done it and if I was sober I would have never dreamed of doing something like that. The booze, it just makes me into a different person. I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, finally sober for the first time in weeks and I didn't even recognise myself" She looked down at the floor, seemingly ashamed of her behavior as tears formed in her eyes. "I promise you both that it'll never happen again," she said sincerely, raising her gaze to look them both in the eye. Mum still seemed unsure as she looked at Dad for his reaction before responding.
"It's okay Sheila, we understand that addictions can be very hard to deal with and we appreciate your apology, but if anything like that did happen again, we would have to call the police, do you understand?"
Sheila nodded to confirm that she did, although I was skeptical whether any threat could really work on her. She seemed contrite and apologetic, but I had known her too long to entirely buy it and I suspected Mum and Dad felt the same. Would she be able to convince Ash though? That was the question.
"You're welcome to talk in the front room, make yourself at home Sheila," Mum said kindly before taking Dad's arm. "We'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, okay boys?" She gave us both a reassuring look before turning towards the back of the house, Dad following close behind her. As he turned Dad flashed me a look as if to remind me of what we had talked about a couple of days earlier. I needed to keep my anger in check, even when I was face to face with the cause of the pain my boyfriend was going through. I gave him an understanding nod before following Ash and Sheila into the front room. We took our places, myself and Ash on the big sofa and Sheila on the smaller one across the room. My instinct was to go on the offensive, giving her a real piece of my mind. How dare she invade our private space? How dare she insult us? Worst of all, how dare she hurt the man I love more than anything else on this messed up, confusing, and frequently violent planet? As much as I wanted to protect Ash, I knew that this was his battle to fight and ultimately his decision to make. My job was to support him, whatever the outcome and as we all sat awkwardly, tension hanging in the air I softly rubbed Ashleys back to try and help him stay calm.
