Free The Stranger Within by Kathryn Croft

the television all day? What kind of life is this? By the time I start on the bathroom I have convinced myself that the only peace he will ever get is when he’s asleep.
                  Wiping down the cabinet mirror, I am startled when the door springs open and several white packets drop to the floor. I don’t know what I’m most shocked about: the fact that I’ve caused this mess or the fact that Dad’s cabinet is unlocked. He always locks it, claiming that they will snoop through his personal items if he doesn’t. I scoop up one of the packets and study the label. They are Dad’s pills. But he shouldn’t have so many packets. I check one and it’s from three months ago.
                  “Dad? What’s going on?” I stand in front of the television, waving one of the packets in front of him. “Why haven’t you been taking your pills?” Dumping the other packs on the coffee table, I wait for him to explain himself.
                  But he doesn’t even flinch, continuing to stare ahead as if I’m invisible. I try a different approach and kneel in front of him. “Please, Dad, you need to take them. Just take a couple now. I’ll get you some water.” I stroke his hand, his rough, calloused skin feeling like sandpaper. I will need to speak to Jenny about this; clearly Dad’s been fooling us both.
                  He turns to me and his eyes seem to soften. I begin to stand again but then he opens his mouth and bellows, louder than I’ve ever heard him, his voice shattering the silence of the flat.
    “Get out! Get the fuck out of my house!”
     
    When I get home, I am surprised to find James is already home from work, sitting on the sofa with his laptop perched on his knees. The house is quiet – too quiet – and I can hear the whirr of the laptop fan. “Where are the boys?” I ask.
                  James taps on the keyboard but doesn’t look up. “Emma’s taken them to the cinema. I thought you could do with a break.” He looks up at me and his frown lines show me he is struggling with something. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
                  I hold out the Sainsbury’s carrier bags I’m still holding. “Traffic was bad and I forgot the list. Had to try and remember everything. I stopped for a coffee as well.” This is not exactly a lie, more of an omission.
                  He nods and turns back to his laptop. “Why don’t we get a takeaway tonight? It will save you cooking, and Emma said she’d take the boys out for food after their film.”
                  “Sounds good,” I say, wishing it was me taking them to the cinema, me with whom they want to spend time.
     
    Sometimes it is easier to ignore things. Push them under the carpet, out of view, and hope they won’t trip you up. This is what I think as I sit cuddled up to James on the sofa, stealing Peking duck from his plate because I’ve already finished my own and I’m still hungry. He playfully nudges me away and shoves the last forkful in his mouth before putting his plate on the floor. I make a grab for him but he wrestles me away and we collapse in a heap. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard but am sure it was more than eight months ago. At this moment I am grateful James doesn’t know the extent of my problems with Dillon and Luke.
                  So what he says next surprises me. “You know all you had to do yesterday evening was call me. I would have made them eat.”
                  I freeze, my mouth half-open because I am still in the middle of a laughing fit.
                  He continues without waiting for an answer. “I’ve been thinking about it all day and I just don’t know what to do. I’ve talked to them till I’m blue in the face but they’re still giving you trouble. Aren’t they?”
                  I remember the boys late last night,