Page 21 of Silent Scream
His mind travelled back, as it did every day. Damn it, he should have said no. He should have stood up to the rest of them and said no. His own wrongdoing seemed so trivial compared to the consequences of his acquiescence.
One time he'd found himself on the wall outside Old Hill police station. For three and a half hours he remained there, chasing the tail of his conscience. He stood, he sat down, he paced, he sat down. He cried, he stood up. And then he walked away.
If he'd been strong enough to tell the truth he might have lost his wife. As a woman and as a mother, if she ever learned of his part in the events she would be sickened by his actions. And the worst part was Tom couldn't blame her.
He threw back the covers. There was no point trying to sleep. He was fully awake. He headed downstairs. He needed coffee, the stronger the better.
He headed to the kitchen and stopped dead at the dining table.
Staring at him was a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and a note.
The very sight of the golden brown liquid took the saliva from his mouth. The forty per cent proof bottle cost more than one hundred pounds. It was one of the finest old-aged malt and grain whiskies; the Cristal of the blended whisky world. His body responded. It was like staring into Christmas morning. He tore his eyes away and reached for the note.
WE CAN DO THIS YOUR WAY OR MY WAY BUT IT WILL GET DONE. ENJOY.
He slumped into the chair, his eyes fixed on his best friend and his worst enemy.
It was clear what the sender wanted. They wished for him to die. Alongside his fear sat relief. He had always known that the day of reckoning would come, whether it be in this life or the next.
Tom unscrewed the top of the bottle and the smell reached his nose immediately. He knew that to take a drink would kill him. Not the first sip – he was an alcoholic, there was no such thing as a sip. If he took a drink he would finish the whole bottle and that would bring him death.
If he chose this method to die then no one else need suffer. His wife would think he'd simply weakened and she would be safe. With luck she might never learn of what he'd done. His daughter need never know.
He lifted the bottle slowly and took the first gulp. He paused only a second before raising the bottle to his lips again. This time he didn’t stop until the scorch in his chest was unbearable.
The effects hit him immediately. After more than two years his body had lost tolerance and the alcohol burned around his veins all the way to his brain.
He took another swig and smiled. There were worse ways to die.
He swigged again and chuckled. No more bathing old folks. No more dirty nappies. No more wiping dribble.
He raised the bottle to his mouth, taking the liquid halfway down. His body was on fire and he felt euphoric. It was like watching your favourite football team slaughter the opposition.
There would be no more hiding what he’d done. No more fear. He was doing the right thing.
The tears dropped onto his cheeks. Inside Tom felt happy, at peace, but his body was betraying him.
The bottle paused at his mouth as his eyes rested on a photo of his daughter feeding the goats at Dudley Zoo on her sixth birthday.
He squinted at the photo. He didn't remember that frown on her face or the questions in her eyes.
‘Sweetheart, I'm sorry,’ he said to the picture. ‘It was only once, I swear.’
Her expression didn't change.Are you sure?
He closed his eyes against the accusation but her face still swam before his eyes.
‘Okay, maybe it was more than once but it wasn't my fault, sweetheart. She made me do it. She tempted me. She teased me. I couldn't help myself. It wasn't my fault.’
‘But you were an adult?’
Tom closed his eyes against the onslaught of his child's disgust. A tear forced its way out and slid down his cheek.
‘Please understand, she was much older than fifteen. She was clever and manipulative and I just gave in. It wasn't my fault. She seduced me and I couldn't fight back.’
‘She was a child.’
Tom pulled at his own hair to ease the pain. ‘I know, I know, but she wasn't a child. She was a conniving girl who knew how to get what she wanted.’
