Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Abbott took a train back to the place of his youth. Arriving, he realised that he’d been steeling himself for a memory rush – some good, some bad, all of it hard to handle in his weakened mental state – but instead was relieved to find that the station had been modernised and looked nothing like it had when he’d last seen it. Exiting the station, same again. It used to be that cars were parked outside. Now the area had been pedestrianised. Only taxis were allowed near the station front. It felt like the only thing unchanged was its name. Burton-on-Trent.

He gave the taxi driver an address – out of town, thankfully, also unlikely to evoke memories – settled in the back, had a surreptitious chug of vodka and caught sight of the guy watching him in the rear-view. He checked himself to see whether he cared about being judged and found that, no, he didn’t, his thoughts going back to his old AA group in Singapore. Guys who talked about motoring past that point where you stopped worrying what other people thought. Where you stopped caring about yourself. About your family. You stopped caring about anything apart from the booze.

At the time he’d thought to himself, That’s what makes me different from these other guys. It’s because I care.

But you’re getting there, aren’t you? You’re getting ready to join that group.

The driver was visibly relieved when Abbott came up with the cash at their destination. Abbott waited until he was gone, took another quick chug of the bottle and then turned to look at the care home.

Clearview was the name. This was where Abbott’s father, Ted, lived now. He was only in his mid-seventies, but first alcoholism, and then a stroke had put him in a wheelchair needing around-the-clock care.

The last time Abbott saw him was Nathan’s funeral when his dad had been accompanied by a male nurse from the home. Abbott had leaned in to embrace him after the service, but the moment had been awkward and weird. Had they spoken further? Abbott couldn’t remember, although what he did recall was that as a Brucie bonus, the funeral had also included a moment when Fiona physically attacked him, accusing him of being responsible for Nathan’s death. There wasn’t much answer for that. She was right.

So to the Clearview complex where the only view, clear or not, was of more buildings associated with the care home. During the journey Abbott had been asking himself the purpose of his visit; after all, he knew the truth of Chris’s death now. Why take time out of his busy schedule to spend precious money on trains and taxis to ask his father what he already knew?