Free The Faerie Tree by Jane Cable Page A

her about it she had a go at me for not trying to find non-seasonal work sooner. Given I’d been working more than full time over the summer I thought that was a bit much and I told her so.
    By now our arguments ran a familiar course; I would do something wrong, she would tell me how useless I was, I would bite back then sulk for a while and then we would make it up, normally in bed or over a bottle of wine. But each time it happened I sank lower into an endless mist of grey, made more mistakes, became less willing to open my mouth, and so things went from bad to worse.
    It was Ed who eventually spoke to me about it, poor bugger; Megan probably put him up to it. He had become a bit of a father figure to me – probably the only one I’ve ever had – but it wasn’t his way to talk about emotional stuff and as I didn’t want to either it was a bit of an awkward conversation.
    We were putting the trailer away on a Sunday night in early October when Ed suggested we crack open a few beers. I washesitant, fearing getting back to Megan late with alcohol on my breath, but Ed wasn’t put off by the feeble excuse I gave him and had already opened the cans.
    â€œD’you want to tell me what’s up, young Rob?” he asked as he handed mine over.
    I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing, really.”
    â€œOh come on – you’ve been miserable as sin for weeks now – everyone’s noticed and we’re worried about you.”
    It was nice of them, but I really had brought this on myself. But how to explain it all to Ed? Did I even want to? He’d probably tell Megan and then… but then, what? And did I care, anyway? It seemed too much trouble to care about anything. But Ed was looking at me, waiting for an answer.
    â€œIt’s nothing really; it’s just, you know, the future looks so uncertain.” The metallic taste of the beer can reminded me of the phone box at Porth.
    â€œThe future is uncertain – not just for you, now, but for all of us, all the time. We’re still caught up in this bloody recession for a start. It’s not great for old hands like me, but it’s bloody unfair on bright kids like you, scraping by doing dead end jobs.”
    â€œI’m not that bright. Lots of people have degrees nowadays and I’ve never even used mine.”
    â€œBecause you can’t or because you won’t?”
    It was a good question. When I’d first graduated my choice had been limited because of Mum. I’d wanted to travel, work overseas even, but that avenue had been closed to me. Now I was a free agent and Ed was right, instead of doing something about it I was bumming around. Only I didn’t feel free; I felt more as though I was serving a life sentence.
    I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I stood up and gazed out of the window onto the beach, waiting for my vision to clear and to be able to speak again.
    But Ed spoke first. “Megan’s especially worried.”
    â€œShe hasn’t said anything.”
    â€œShe says she can’t reach you, it’s like you’ve shut yourself off from her.”
    â€œCan’t do a thing right, that’s all,” I muttered.
    I heard the smile in Ed’s voice. “That’s Meg for you.”
    â€œI can’t handle it.” I was close to tears again.
    â€œYou won’t change her.”
    â€œI don’t want to, I… I want to stop using her,” I burst out. “It’s not doing either of us any good and I’m too much of a wimp to walk away. And anyway, I’ve got nowhere to walk to,” I added.
    â€œYou can have my sofa for a few weeks if that’d help?”
    â€œNo, Ed. It’s time I was a man about this.” Which was a really immature thing to say, although I meant it at the time.
    It quite literally took a hurricane to make me act. To be honest, the infamous hurricane of 1987 didn’t hit our part of