The Room Upstairs: A Novel Page 6

  And had Courtney turned up yet? And if not, what did it mean? Were we responsible?

  Dad was snoring loudly from his bedroom, so I tiptoed downstairs and encountered Mum in the kitchen. She was staring out of the window above the sink.

  “Mum, are you okay?”

  She flinched. “Oh, Martin, you gave me a fright. Did you manage to sleep?”

  “Yeah. The door is still gone.”

  From the way she bit her lip and failed to look at me, she clearly didn’t want to talk about it – perhaps ever. “Do you want any breakfast? Although it’s really lunchtime at this point.”

  I shook my head and stifled a yawn. “I haven’t woken up properly yet. I’m just going to have a cup of tea and watch TV.”

  “I’ll make it. You go sit down, honey.”

  “Okay, thanks. Mum, you, um, look upset.”

  She gave no reply, just resumed her staring. I slunk away into the living room to watch TV, settling on Channel Four because it was showing The Mighty Ducks. I’d seen the movie ten times already but I still loved it. In fact, I’d seen all three movies. The last one had sucked a bit though. They weren’t kids any more.

  I vaguely remembered the first time I had watched the original film. It had been with my dad – my real one. Mum always referred to him as ‘Keith’ if she ever mentioned him at all, and sometimes I wished he was still around so I could see what he looked like. My memories of him were murky, but none of them were bad. I knew Mum hated him, but I didn’t know why. It was a confusing topic. Mostly I wished he was around so I could ask why he left. Mum never gave me a straight answer about it, and while she tried to speak nicely on the few occasions I asked about him, there had been one time when she’d been drinking at Diane’s. She had told me he was a horrible man and that we were better off without him. Still, I wished he was still around so I could decide things for myself. If he were such a bad guy, I would see that for myself, right? But what if he wasn’t a bad guy? What if he still wanted to be my dad?

  But I already had a dad. Charlie had raised me the last four years, and he loved me. He was my dad.

  There was a knock at the front door and I groaned. Whenever doors were involved lately, bad things happened. I got up from the sofa and shouted towards the kitchen. “I’ll get it.”

  Mum didn’t shout back a reply.

  As usual, I could see the shape of the person knocking through the front door’s glass pane. This time it was someone small. It could’ve been Sarah, but she would’ve let herself in with her key. I opened the door and grimaced when it turned out to be Diane. The wrinkled bags beneath her eyes had grown since the last time I’d seen her, and the stench she gave off was worse too. She always smelled of wee and alcohol. Once, I had overheard Mum telling Dad that her bladder had weakened due to constant drinking, and that she had to wear big pads in her knickers. It was gross, and whenever I spoke to her, I couldn’t think of anything aside from that piss-soaked pad between her stick-thin legs. “Hi, Diane? Do you want my mum?”

  “Oh, hello, Martin. I don’t mean to be a bother. I just wanted to ask if I could borrow a couple of pounds.”

  Of course, just a couple of pounds. I wasn’t sure she understood the word ‘borrow’, as she never paid Mum anything back. I failed to stop myself from releasing a tiny sigh, but Diane never seemed to notice when people were irritated by her – either that or she didn’t care. I was about to shout for Mum, but someone else spoke and interrupted me.

  “Diane, long time no see. How’ve you been?”

  Diane turned on her wobbly legs and stared at the newcomer. Her face lit up. “My word, it’s you! What a sight for sore eyes.”

  A stout, tough-looking man with brown hair moved out from behind Diane and gave her a hug. The very thought of doing so made me feel sick, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Did you just say you’re short a few quid? Let’s see what I’ve got.”

  The stranger reached a thick hand into his jeans and fished out a palmful of coins. Without superpowers, I couldn’t work out at a glance how much was there, but I estimated at least five pounds, which was why I was shocked when he handed it all over to Diane.

  Diane’s face lit up as she took the hoard of coins. “Oh, Keith, you’re an angel. It’s so good to see you.”

  “You too, Diane.”

  Diane scurried away, so the stranger turned to me. I looked back at him, a single word spilling from my lips. “K-Keith?”

  The man grinned, dark stubble around his open mouth. “Hello, Martin. You’ve grown.”

  Footsteps sounded on the floorboards behind me and I turned to see Mum. Her face fell in absolute horror. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, and reached for the door.

  “Nice to see you too, Sharon.”

  Mum’s face distorted like shattered glass. “Fuck off, Keith! Fuck right off.”

  I gawped at my mother, staggered by her language. She was not pleased to see this man.

  9

  I didn’t fully understand it at that moment, but the man standing on our doorstep was Keith Gable, my biological father. The man who I suddenly remembered teaching me to swim and ride a bike. A man who I remembered smiling more often than frowning. A man I was supposed to hate, yet didn’t. Mum tried to close the door on him, but he blocked it with his foot.

  “I’m here to see Martin and Sarah,” he said. “I’m here to see my kids, Sharon.”

  “You have some nerve. They’ve been your kids for the last four years and you haven’t wanted to know.”

  “Maybe I would have stuck around if you hadn’t been so busy shacking up with a…” He shook his head and let out a breath. “I’m not here to fight, okay?”

  “Good, then you can leave.”

  “Mum, what’s going on? Is this… is this my dad?”

  Mum’s eyes glistened, and I felt ashamed – like I shouldn’t have asked the question. She put an arm around me and pulled me close. “Martin, I…”

  “Yes, I’m your dad, Martin. I’ve missed you. I can’t believe how big you’ve got. You look just like I did at your age. Is Sarah here? Sarah, are you in?”

  “She’s not here,” my mum hissed. “Stop shouting.”

  I looked at the man, oddly angered by his familiarity and disregard for my mother. “What are you doing here?”

  The question appeared to catch him – my dad – off guard, because he didn’t have an answer. “I… It’s just that… I needed to come and see you. I had to come.”

  “Why now? Why after being gone for years?”

  That question seemed to confuse him even more, and his eyes went to Mum. “Has your mother never told you?”

  I turned to Mum, but her eyes were locked on Keith. “How dare you? How fucking dare you? Get the hell out of here, you piece of shit.”

  Keith folded his arms and leant against the door frame. “I’m not going anywhere, Sharon. I have a right to see—”

  “You gave up your rights nearly five years ago. Martin doesn’t even know you.”

  “And whose sodding fault is that? I see you haven’t changed one bit. You never could admit to being wrong.”

  The conversation was confusing. Things were being said that made me want to ask questions. Questions I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers to. Mostly I was angry because this man was talking to my mum in a way I didn’t like. I turned and waved a hand dismissively. “You’re upsetting my mum, so you should go. This is our home.”

  Keith looked at me unkindly, and I wondered if this man could really be my dad. We had the same hair. “It used to be my home too until your mother—”

  “I don’t care. It’s not your home now. Leave us alone.”

  I began to close the door, but Keith placed his arm out and blocked it. He looked back and forth between Mum and me. A mixture of emotions crossed his face, but after a brief standoff, he stepped back and sighed. “Martin, I know you and I have lost a lot of time, but I want to make it right. I want to be your dad again. Promise me we can s
peak soon, okay?”

  “You’ll have to ask my mum.” I looked at her but did nothing to sway her answer. I would do whatever she wanted. Her anger had gone now and she was sad, eyes brimming to the point of spilling tears. Despite that, she smiled at me. “We’ll talk about it, Martin, I promise. We’ll talk about it.”

  I turned back to the doorway. “You heard her, Keith. We’ll talk about it and get back to you.”

  Keith huffed, either amused or insulted, but he took another step back away from our door. “I suppose that’s all I can ask for. I’ll come back soon, okay? I just want to get to know you.”

  I pushed the door closed, and as soon as it shut, Mum collapsed in tears. I put my arms around her and she sobbed into my chest as if I were the adult and she the child. “I’m sorry, Mum.”

  She pulled away to look at me. “Don’t you dare be sorry, Martin. You are not the one to blame. He is, you hear me?”

  “I don’t need to see him, Mum. He upsets you.”

  “Thank you for defending me, Martin, but he’s your father and you have a right to know him if that’s what you want. I might not like it, but it’s true. I just can’t believe he’s suddenly turned up like this after so long.”

  I had no idea what I wanted. Keith seemed a bit of a prick, but he was also my real dad. Wouldn’t it be stupid to refuse to see him if all he wanted was a relationship with me? “I’m not sure what I want, Mum. I can’t even think about it right now.”

  “It’s been a strange couple of days, hasn’t it?”

  I nodded. “It still feels like I dreamt it all. Are you okay, Mum?”

  She kissed me on the cheek, something she rarely did nowadays, but instead of answering the question, she hugged me again and held onto me for a long time. I held her right back, because, for the first time in my life, home didn’t feel safe.

  A creaking sound made us both glance towards the stairs. Dad – Charlie – was stumbling down the steps, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning. When he saw us hugging at the bottom of the stairs, he frowned. “You both okay? What’s happened now?”

  Mum turned to him reluctantly. Her eyes were puffy with tears, and her cheeks were fatter than usual. “Charlie, we need to talk.”

  “Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not, but just stay calm, okay?”

  Dad’s face fell as he realised his day was about to start badly.

  And the days to follow would be even worse.

  10

  I spent the day in my room so Mum and Dad could talk in private. I blared out their bickering by turning up the volume on my TV. It was eight o’clock, and they were both still at it in the kitchen. Neither was pleased about Keith showing up, and I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it myself. I couldn’t deny I was excited, but at the same time I was also afraid. Like he could hurt me somehow.

  Nothing would make me feel any differently about Charlie – Dad – but meeting Keith had made me realise how awkwardly stuck together our current family was. For the first time, the colour of Charlie’s skin seemed like an issue, because my real dad was white. It was all so confusing. The drone of my parents arguing downstairs didn’t help. In fact, I was so preoccupied I almost forgot about what had happened the previous night.

  Sarah hadn’t forgotten though.

  She’d come home around three o’clock and had headed straight to her room. I heard her sobbing soon after. Courtney hadn’t turned up, that much was obvious, and any possibility he was playing some sort of prank was rapidly fading. The room had been real – impossible, but real – and it had done something to Courtney. Why had the idiot gone inside?

  The main problem, with my sister crying across the hall and my parents arguing downstairs, was boredom. I’d been hiding out in my room for hours, not wanting to disturb anyone. But Saturday night TV was the worst. I needed to get out. Usually, I would hang out with Mike most of the weekend, but with all the drama at home I hadn’t spoken to him for almost a week. There was so much I wanted to tell him.

  So much I couldn’t tell him.

  I could tell him about Keith though. He wouldn’t laugh at me for that.

  I heard Sarah’s sobbing from across the landing and I heard my parents arguing in the kitchen. I heard the balls dropping on the National Lottery.

  Okay, that does it, I told myself. I can’t take any more.

  I got up and went across the hall, tapping lightly on Sarah’s door.

  “Go away,” she yelled.

  “It’s Martin. Are you okay?”

  I listened to my sister’s stomping footsteps. I didn’t expect her to open the door with a smile and, sure enough, she yanked it open with a scowl on her face. Her nose was bleeding. I could barely believe it. “Jesus, Sarah, again?”

  She had tears in her eyes and blood down the Fugees T-shirt she was wearing. “It’s just a weak blood vessel. It keeps opening because of all this stress. Just leave me alone, Martin.”

  I genuinely didn’t want to make her mad, so I half turned to leave, but she looked so broken that I needed to make sure she was okay. Sad people did things if you left them alone, right? I learned about it at school when Mrs Goggins had wheeled the TV in and played a video to our class. “Sarah, can I just… can I just ask about Courtney? Have you heard anything?”

  Her eyes widened for a second like I had poked her, but then she shook her head slowly. A drop of blood spilled from her chin onto her bony shoulder. “I called a dozen people from Deb’s house, but no one’s heard anything. I called his mum too. I wish he would just turn up and be okay. Martin, what happened to him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sarah let out a hiss, then raised the bottom of her T-shirt to wipe the fresh blood from her face. The bottom of her pink bra peeked out over her ribs, which made me blush and look away. When I turned back, her T-shirt was back down and her face was a little cleaner. “This is so disgusting.”

  “You should see a doctor,” I said. “It’s not right. You’re really thin, too, Sarah. Have you been forgetting to eat or something?”

  “What? I’m fine. What about your stomach anyway? That isn’t exactly right, is it?”

  I stood straight, defying her attempts to ignore my concern. “My stomach’s fine, so don’t worry about—” My words faltered, and I doubled over, a sudden pain in my guts like an angry pike had woken inside of me. Sarah reached out and touched my arm. “Martin, what the hell? Are you playing around?”

  “No, I feel really—” I puked all over the floor. “Oh, please, God, not again!” I puked a second time.

  Sarah leapt back inside her room, barely avoiding getting spattered. She was seething with anger when I straightened back up to face her. “Martin, I swear to God… What is with you? Stop puking around me.”

  I wiped my mouth and groaned. “I-I’m sorry. I’m not doing it on purpose.”

  “Seems like you are. You were literally just saying you felt fine.”

  I heard footsteps on the stairs. The sight of my vomit all over the wall and carpet made me moan in misery. Mum and Dad would have a fit when they saw the mess. They would blame me for not making it to the toilet.

  Mum appeared on the landing, hair tied back and her forehead sweaty. She focused on me, then on the wall – then she looked past me completely. She started to shake her head, eyes stretching wide. “No, no, it can’t be.”

  I looked at Sarah, who seemed to be as confused as I was, then I looked back at my mum. “Mum, what is it?”

  She carried on shaking her head. “No, no, no.”

  I turned, and my heart fluttered when I saw that the door had returned. It was only my disbelief that kept me from screaming. “Mum, it’s back.”

  Mum reached out to us. “Both of you, get here.”

  Sarah broke first, racing past me towards the stairs. “Come on, idiot. Move!”

  I staggered back on my heels, enchanted by the door. It was starting to open, letting out that same mocking creak that it had the pre
vious night. Darkness filled the mysterious room inside, but as the landing light crept in, I saw it was still empty.

  Until it wasn’t.

  As if forming from the air itself, a shape materialised in the middle of the room. A person. Maybe a monster?

  Mum grabbed me and pulled me towards the stairs.

  “No, wait!” I told her. “There’s… there’s someone inside. It’s… It’s… Oh God.”

  Sarah barged past me and started screaming. “Courtney! Courtney!”

  Courtney staggered out onto the landing. He’d come back.

  But he wasn’t the same.

  His eyes were shut tight and bleeding. He tried to speak, but only a mumbled blather came out. Both arms flailed as he crashed against the wall like a panicking moth. Sarah rushed to him and held him tightly, fighting his struggles and easing him down onto the carpet. There, on his knees, he started to moan like a zombie. Sarah looked back at us with absolute horror.

  I wanted to say something, but I worried that if I dared move, my body would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. I felt fragile and distant, once again away from my body as I watched the scene unfold before me. Courtney’s eyes weren’t closed; they were stitched shut. He wasn’t mumbling; he was trying to talk, but his tongue was mangled and swollen. It appeared to have been sliced off. He was blind and unable to speak.

  Sarah let out a scream so loud it hurt my ears, and I covered my mouth to keep from puking again. What the hell had happened to him in that room?

  A thumping sounded on the stairs and Dad raced up to join us on the landing. “What’s happening?” he asked breathlessly. “Who’s screaming? Is Sarah okay? Is she…” His words caught in his throat as his eyes fell upon Courtney, and it took him several seconds to break out of his stupor and speak again. “W-We need to get this boy to a hospital. Right now!”