Free Midnight by Josephine Cox Page B

factory where he worked. She said another man had died.’
    He paused before going on quietly, ‘Two days later, my father died too.’ He had not let himself think about all this in any detail for such a long time; it was painful talking about it now.
    ‘My mother cried a lot. She didn’t want me near her. It was as if she blamed me for what had happened. So Eileen took me in for a time. Her daughter, Libby was my best friend. After school, we went on long walks across the fields to Cherry Tree, where we would sit in the field and talk about things – Libby was a good listener. Sometimes if the weather was really hot, we’d paddle in the brook, and go home with wet feet.’
    The thought of her made him smile. ‘Libby wasn’t like the other kids at school. Unlike them, she never laughed at me or called me names. But she did not like my drawings. She said they frightened her and she didn’t want me to show them to her any more.’
    The psychiatrist saw the smile and asked, ‘You really liked Libby, didn’t you?’
    Jack thought about that and was surprised at his own feelings. ‘Yes, I did, she was a wonderful companion. She always had time for me. Sometimes, after Eileen had gone to bed, me and Libby would sit and talk for hours when we were teenagers.’
    ‘And how was your mother coping with the tragic loss of your father?’
    Jack’s mood darkened. ‘She was never the same after dad died. She took on extra shifts at the hotel where she worked, and she started to go out with different men. I can understand it, now I’m older – she must have been lonely. She and I barely had a conversation. I planned to go to university and worked hard at school, but Mum didn’t seem to care about my plans one way or another. She met an American bloke called John Towner or Tooner, I can’t quite recall because she only said his name once, when she introduced us. I was not all that interested. Anyway, it wasn’t too long before she went off with him. That was when the idea of university took a back seat, because I found myself out on the street and had to take responsibility for my own welfare.
    ‘Were there no relatives you could go to?’ asked Mr Howard.
    ‘No. I knew I could have had a home with Eileen and Libby, or with another neighbour Thomas Farraday, but it was too close to where I used to live with my parents. Two weeks before I finished school, our house was sold and I left Blackburn for good. I couldn’t get away quickly enough. I was worried though, about the future. I wasn’t really sure about anything, and in the end I came away in such a hurry I left without saying goodbye to anyone. I came south, found a job and gradually made something of myself.’
    He shrugged his shoulders. ‘That’s my life in a nutshell. Nothing special. Nothing more to tell.’
    ‘Oh, I think there’s a lot more to tell.’ Alan Howard had been making notes all the time Jack was speaking. Pushing them aside, he said, ‘That’s plenty of background for me to be going on with.’ He wondered whether maternal deprivation was behind Jack’s condition. Certainly his mother’s indifference to his welfare and emotional well being could have completely undermined his true state of mind. Only time and gentle questioning would reveal the truth.
    ‘Now, I’d like to spend a few moments looking at the dreams that trouble you. Are you all right with that?’
    Jack’s heart began to race. ‘Yes,’ he said.
    ‘I can’t say how long this first session will last,’ said Howard. ‘It all depends on whether you want to go on, or whether I feel it’s time to bring it to an end, for whatever reason.’
    Jack voiced his fears: ‘What if I get . . .’ Reluctant to say the word, he came to a halt.
    ‘Yes, Jack?’ A quiet prompting was enough.
    ‘What if I get . . . trapped ?’ He imagined himself alone and enclosed in that terrible place.
    ‘I won’t let you get trapped. That’s why you’re here – to bring you out of that