Free Survival of Thomas Ford, The by John A. A. Logan Page B

Jimmy.”
    Jimmy sniffed.
    “But maybe you shouldn’t have that woman’s picture up on your bedroom wall at home, Jimmy.”
    “How no?”
    “I don’t know. It’s sort of…disrespectful.”
    Jimmy raised his eyebrows. He nodded his head slowly.

    At 8 o’clock that evening, Jack McCallum was in the office at his house, reading a newspaper, when he heard the front door slam. Jack was out of his chair and half-running to the hall before Jimmy had reached the living room.
    “Hi Dad,” said Jimmy.
    Jack grabbed the collar of Jimmy’s jacket and pulled it until Jimmy was bent double. Jack started walking fast back to the office. When he had Jimmy inside he turned to push the door shut. Jack jerked hard at the neck of Jimmy’s jacket, then put a large palm to Jimmy’s chest, shoved his son against a high bookcase in the corner of the room.
    “Aye,” said Jack. “Hi to you too.”
    Jack pulled his big fist back, tight to his right shoulder. He watched Jimmy’s eyes glare at him, then Jack released the punch like a heavy spring-bolt had just been let go. Jack saw his fist go through the glass panel beside Jimmy’s face. The glass in Jack’s hand bit like some big wasp had hold of it. Jack continued to look at Jimmy’s eyes, dimly aware of a red area spreading across the hand at his vision’s periphery.
    “You’re causing me trouble Jimmy. You’re causing me trouble boy.”
    He expected Jimmy to grin and Jack wasn’t sure what would happen next if Jimmy grinned. But the grin didn’t come. Instead, Jimmy’s body flopped. Jimmy sighed.
    “Aye Dad. I know,” he said.
    Jack’s neck relaxed a notch, his head tilted forward, his chin dropped.
    “Just go to bed,” said Jack.

    The next morning, Lorna woke up at her flat, thinking about Jimmy. Halfway through her shift the night before, a nurse she knew called Karen had come up and told Lorna all about Jimmy’s trip to Dr Nissen’s psychiatric observation ward. Lorna had felt her stomach begin to twist toward a tight knot, as Karen told her the story with a strange light in her eyes. Karen had asked if Jimmy was Lorna’s boyfriend. Lorna had somehow dodged the question. She couldn’t remember now, how she had managed not to answer. Lorna lay with her head on the pillow. She half-expected to hear a knock on the door at any moment, Jimmy there, blaming her for what had happened at the hospital. Then again, from Karen’s description, it sounded like the scenario of Jimmy tied down in the bed and Karen standing over him in neat nurse’s uniform must have ticked off several of the boxes on Jimmy’s fantasy list.
    Lorna got up and made toast. She turned the television on. She raised her eyebrows and bit into the toast, as she heard the local newsreader announce that Thomas Ford, survivor of the tragic car accident which had killed his wife, had left hospital the day before. Lorna could hear the note, or tone, in the announcer’s voice, when they used the word survivor , or was she only imagining it? At the hospital she had heard the staff talking about the case, sometimes only yards from Thomas Ford’s bed. Almost everyone had managed to inflect some tone into their comments that left you half-suspicious too, about how the man had survived with his wife at the bottom of a loch and no witnesses. Lorna had liked Mr Ford though. It was strange. Yes, he had been due to leave hospital, but she had clearly seen him still there yesterday, after she had left Jimmy at A&E. Maybe the news had got the day wrong.

    Thomas Ford was sitting in his living-room, on the lonely chair, also watching the news announcement on TV, about his release from hospital. He heard it too. The way the girl reading the news said survivor .
    Five minutes later the phone rang. Thomas jumped in the chair, from sudden adrenaline. His heart was pounding. He forced himself to pick up the phone.
    “Hello Thomas. It’s Alan. I just saw on the news that you were out.”
    Lea’s father.
    “Yes