TOYL

for any sign of acceptance. ‘Can you give me the knife?’
    ‘When he called me a few weeks ago, I was so happy. He told me he was coming to see me – that he hadn’t meant to go away like that. He was looking forward to seeing his mother.’
    ‘Did Stephen say where he was?’
    ‘I thought he was with you. He said he was with you.’
    ‘He wasn’t with me, Mrs Myers,’ Emma said, ‘I promise.’
    The knife began to lower as Mrs Myers’ head started to droop, as if her neck muscles had started to fail.
    ‘Do you know what it’s like to lose someone you love?’ she asked, staring at the carpet. ‘It feels like your insides have been ripped out – your heart stamped on.’ Now she was fighting tears.
    ‘ I understand,’ Emma said. ‘My mother died.’ She understood all too well what it was like to lose someone who you loved so much that it physically hurt to think about them not being there anymore.
    Mrs Myers raised her head and looked Emma directly in the eyes. Then she stepped forward. Emma stood her ground as she approached.
    ‘Em,’ Lizzy said, concerned.
    ‘It’s okay,’ Emma said, bringing an arm out towards the knife, which was now held loosely. But before she could get it, Mrs Myers released her grip completely and the knife fell onto the carpet, narrowly missing Emma’s foot.
    ‘C’mon,’ Emma said, leading Mrs Myers to the sofa and sitting her down. ‘Just sit down for a while.’
    As she did this, Lizzy picked up the knife.
    ‘What shall I do with this?’ Lizzy said, holding the knife by its very end as if it was contaminated.
    ‘Better keep hold of it for now,’ Emma said.
    Lizzy pulled a painful face. ‘Shall we call… you know?’
    ‘Please, don’t.’
    Emma and Lizzy started with shock as a bearded man stood in the doorway.
    ‘Please, don’t call anyone,’ he said, stepping into the lounge. ‘She has a mental health nurse. I’ll call her.’
    ‘Are you Mr Myers?’ asked Emma, standing up.
    ‘I am, but please, call me Peter.’ He held out his hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Emma. Well, I can’t pretend I don’t know who you are,’ he said, noticing her surprise. ‘Not with all those photographs up in that bloody bedroom.’
    ‘Nice to meet you too.’ Emma took his hand. It was weird having strangers recognising her. That was what real fame would be like, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.
    ‘I guess you’re here to see Stephen,’ he said.
    ‘We wanted to talk to him, yes,’ Emma replied, noting that Mr Myers looked even more like Stephen than his wife did.
    ‘Well, you’d better come with me,’ he said. ‘I can take you to where he is.’

    ***

    ‘I’m sorry you had to see Margaret like that,’ said Peter Myers, a few minutes into the journey in his van, which was emblazoned with adverts for his handyman business – locksmith, electrical and computer repairs, plumbing, no job too small. ‘I had no idea things had got so bad.’
    He hadn’t told them where they were going: just that he was taking them to see his son. And although Emma was still nervous about seeing Stephen, she felt comforted by Peter Myers’ presence. While his father was there, she doubted Stephen would do anything stupid. And he might just be more likely to tell the truth about what had happened.
    ‘You don’t live there anymore?’ she asked, thinking too late that it was a terribly personal question.
    ‘Not for a few months,’ he said, turning the corner and accelerating along the main road, ‘although I do keep popping in, just to make sure that she’s okay.’
    ‘She seems really depressed,’ Emma said.
    ‘She is. She’s not been well for a while, although it’s been getting worse since I left, if I’m honest with myself. She used to be such a proud woman, especially where the house is concerned. But now, well, you saw what it’s like.’
    ‘She seems like she needs help really badly.’
    ‘I know,’ he acknowledged, ‘and she does get the mental health nurse visiting her. But she stopped taking her drugs regularly and things got worse from then on. That’s one of the reasons why I left. I just couldn’t cope any more. I know it sounds selfish, but I just had to get away, for my own sanity.’
    ‘Is it something to do with Stephen, her being depressed? Lizzy heard her shouting his name, and she was talking to me about how he had left her.’
    ‘It all started with Stephen, but now it’s taken on a momentum of its own. To be honest, if he