Free The Outcast by Sadie Jones Page B

The door to Lewis’s room was closed. Gilbert still dressed in the spare room, as he had when Elizabeth was there, and he had trained himself not to notice the silence from the bedroom, no smell of scent, no brush being placed on the glass-topped dressing table.
    He was combing his hair when he heard a crash – and the sound of glass breaking – and then the reverberation of something heavy

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    going over, which made the floor shake. He dropped his comb and ran out onto the landing. Jane was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up.
    He opened Lewis’s door and a cold wind blew through the room. The window was broken, with the frame smashed. The room felt empty and he ran to the window.
    There was glass on the icy ground below and a drawer upside down with the clothes spilled out of it. Then Lewis started to cry, and Gilbert turned and saw him huddled behind the door.
    He had to walk on broken glass to get to him. Lewis’s mouth was open and ugly as if he couldn’t close it and he was staring at his father as he cried. Gilbert went right to him and grabbed his arms, and Lewis began to fight, kicking out at him, kicking his legs and trying to hit his head against him. He was surpris- ingly strong. His face was wet with tears.
    ‘Stop that!’ shouted Gilbert.‘Stop crying. Be quiet. Be quiet.
    Quiet!’
    Gilbert forced Lewis’s arms down and used his weight to pin him into the corner, and then he stopped crying and tried to cover his head with his arms, but Gilbert grabbed his wrists and forced them away from his face.
    Gilbert was panting. He looked around the room – the chest of drawers was on its side, with the rest of the drawers torn out of it; it was the mirror from the top of it that had smashed and covered the carpet with glass.
    ‘Jane!’ he shouted, and Lewis began to shake in his hands, but he didn’t make any more noise.‘Jane!’
    They both waited, out of breath, with Gilbert holding Lewis against the wall and Lewis rigid and shaking as if he couldn’t control himself.

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    Gilbert heard Jane come upstairs and then she stood in the doorway.
    ‘God—’ she said,‘Lewis—’
    ‘Get him out of here. I’ll clean this up.’
    ‘No.You get him out. Let’s stick to our proper jobs, shall we?’
    Gilbert was shocked she spoke to him like that and then realised how extreme the situation was, and how undignified, and at the same time he realised that she didn’t like him. He pulled Lewis to his feet and dragged him out of the room and across the landing, with Jane watching and Lewis pulling away, silently using all his strength to resist. Gilbert kicked the door shut behind them, hating her seeing it.
    He stood in his bedroom gripping his son’s wrists hard.There was silence and Gilbert thought Lewis must realise it was point- less to fight. He seemed small suddenly.
    He began to worry about Lewis’s wrists being hurt and his arms, and he relaxed his grip. Lewis was still quiet, so Gilbert took him to the bed and made him sit.
    He stood over him, not sure if he dared to sit next to him, and then he did, and there was silence. Lewis’s face was blank. He seemed to have disappeared.
    ‘Are you feeling better?’ Gilbert asked, and he made his voice gentle, so as to reach him, but Lewis didn’t move.‘A lot of fathers would thrash you for a thing like this. You are my little boy and I want you to make me proud of you, not ashamed. Are you a bad person, to do a bad thing like this? Is that what you want to be? I want you to listen to me very, very carefully.’
    He saw Lewis’s eyes flicker and then he turned his head and met his father’s gaze.

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    ‘You’d better not make your mother’s death an excuse.That would be a terrible thing to do, and like hurting her again.’
    Gilbert waited. His son didn’t speak, but kept his eyes on his face.Then Gilbert got up and went to the door. He opened it, wide, and stood back.
    ‘Now why don’t you help Jane clean up that mess you’ve made?