Page 27 of Crocodile Tears

Alex dropped his soup spoon into his bowl with a loud clatter.

“I might have lost the use of my legs, but there’s nothing wrong with the rest of me, so I can compete in the single sculls, arms-only event. The doctors have given me the all-clear, and it’ll be good to have a purpose again.” He beamed.

“That’s great news, son.” Noah gave Charles the kind of genuinely delighted look that Alex hadn’t received in a very long time. Charles always had been everyone’s favourite.

“Wonderful! You’ll be an inspiration to a generation of disabled people,” Neil enthused sycophantically. “I think that’s fantastic.”

“I think it’s insane,” Alex said witheringly. His father glared at him, and there was another tense silence. “What’s the matter, Charles? Are you worried the public will stop adoring you if you’re out of sight for too long?” Alex demanded. “Christ, hasn’t this family had enough publicity to last a lifetime?”

“Alex – that’s enough,” Noah roared.

Charles put his hand on Alex’s wrist. “I’m sorry. I know they put you through hell over the accident, and I can understand why you’re apprehensive, but I honestly think we can move beyond that now.”

Alex gazed at him imploringly, but Charles had a dreamy, happy look in his eyes, and he knew it was pointless. “Excuse me,” he said quietly. “Suddenly I’m not hungry anymore.” He pushed the bowl of soup away, threw down his napkin, and strode out of the room.

“Alex.” He heard the low hum of Charles’s wheelchair behind him, and paused at the foot of the staircase. “Alex, please.” Charles reached out to touch his arm.

Alex glanced down at him. “I can’t believe you’re doing this, Charles.”

“I just want some part of my old life back,” Charles said pleadingly. “You can understand that, can’t you? Ihaveto compete. I want to hear the crowd cheering me on. I want tobesomeone again.”

“You already have all those charity events and speeches.”

“They’ll start drying up soon. If you don’t achieve anything for a while, then people stop caring. It doesn’t take them long to forget.”

“Then why bother? Isn’t it an endless treadmill, a mountain you’ll always be climbing without ever reaching the top?”

Charles sighed. “I’m not clever like you, Alex. I was always the sporty one. There’s nothing else for me. I can’t stand the idea of ending up at Lytton AV – I’ve made that quite clear to Dad, and he knows I’d be useless at it, anyway. But sport, competing at the highest level – it’s who I am, and all I ever wanted to do.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Alex hissed, glancing over Charles’s shoulder to where his father and Neil were making small talk in the dining room.

“It doesn’t have to be. It could be our chance to move on, to put the past behind us.”

Alex snorted. “The media will never let that happen, Charles. They’ll dredge it up again – the crash, Mum’s death, and my drug use… I don’t think I can go through all that again.”

“They’ll forget about it, in time, if we give them a new story to focus on. If I compete in the Paralympics, if I win… it’ll wipe all the bad stuff away.”

“The nation already loves you – it’s me they won’t forgive. I don’t see how you winning another gold medal will make that happen.”

Charles squeezed his arm. “Please – I need this, Alex. I can’t sit around here all day, doing nothing. I must have something to focus on, and I’ve really only ever been good at this one thing. Please be happy for me.”

Alex pulled his arm away. “I’ll try,” he said as he began climbing the stairs. He turned to glance back at his brother’s hopeful face. “I’m not making any promises, but I will try.”

He returned to his bedroom and took out the little packet of croc he’d brought with him. He inhaled it and then threw himself onto the bed, clutching his mum’s scarf. The smell of her perfume swirled around him, taking him back to the last time he’d been with her.

It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon and the top of the duck was folded back. They were hurtling down a winding country lane, his mother’s golden hair blowing around her face in the warm breeze. Charles was telling a story which Alex interrupted sarcastically, making them all laugh.

If he could, he would hang on to that moment and make it last forever, but he couldn’t. The duck, with its happy, laughing inhabitants, kept on driving down that lane towards its inescapable final destination.

Alex slowed down the vision, so he could watch it frame by frame, delaying the inevitable. He savoured every little detail: Charles’s cheerful voice; his mother’s throaty laugh, and the way her red-painted lips closed around her cigarette.

She and Charles were on a high. It had only been a few weeks since he’d won his gold medal; all their hard work had paid off, so they couldfinally relax. They were roaring with laughter, and Alex basked in their company. They had been so busy working towards the Olympics that he’d barely seen them for months, but now he felt like an honorary member of their exclusive little club.

He glanced ahead – just down the lane lay darkness, but right here, right now, they were all safe. If only he could freeze them in this moment, and they could stay here forever… but that wasn’t how it ended.

They were going too fast and laughing too much. Tears were pouring down his cheeks because of the large quantity of croc he’d taken when they’d stopped at a pub for lunch earlier. He felt mellow, happy, and high.

Suddenly, there was a sickening lurch, and the world tumbled over and over. Crashing, crunching, wrenching sounds reverberated all around him until finally they came to rest – amidst a horrible silence.

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