Making The Calls

Paul was up before dawn the next morning. He had sat up with Terry until late; he could see that Terry was fighting the jet lag, but could understand that he didn’t want to go to bed. When he finally persuaded him to hit the sack, Terry was almost dead on his feet. Despite his exhaustion, Paul knew that Terry hadn’t slept at all; he could sense him tossing around and pacing in his room.

Finding his way to the kitchen, he found the coffee and set the machine. Since working closely with Dino he’d become addicted to a strong mug of coffee in the morning. Before too long the kitchen was filled with the welcome aroma, and Paul poured himself a mug.

The smell wafted down the hallway and into Terry’s room. He’d only just settled on the bed, but the smell had him instantly awake again. “M?” he murmured, sitting up and looking around. He looked down to see he was fully dressed, and M’s side of the bed was empty, then he remembered the reason why and groaned. He realised it must be Paul in the kitchen and forced himself up and towards the door.

“G’Day, Paul, sleep well?”

“Better than you, I think, Terry. Can you face any food?”

“Toast…maybe,” Terry replied.

Paul got busy with the toaster, and made some rich, creamy scrambled eggs and bacon to go with it. Terry looked at it in dismay, there was no way he could eat that, but he didn’t want to upset Paul.

Terry pushed his plate away and looked up at Paul’s smiling face. “Ta, mate. I really didn’t think I would be able to eat a thing. Must have been more hungry than I imagined.”

“Not surprising, I don’t think you’ve eaten much since you left here to meet up with Dino. Just make sure you manage to keep it down.”

“I’ll do my best, mate. What time’s your flight?”

“11:30 from Coffs. Do you have a number for the cab company?”

“Bollocks to that…I’ll take ya.”

They arrived at the airport in plenty of time and sat in companionable silence until the flight was called. Terry walked to the gate with Paul and hugged him close. “I can’t thank you enough from coming home with me, Paul. Didn’t want you to begin with, but Dino knew better than me. Tell him thanks when you get back.”

"Will do, Terry. Take care, and we’ll keep in touch,” Paul replied as he turned and walked through the gate.

Terry stood and watched until the plane taxied down the runway and took off, then made his way back to his car. He didn’t want to go home, but he had no place else to go.

He pulled up at the front of the house and slowly made his way inside. The silence was oppressive as he walked from room to room, touching things M had touched, picking up her little ornaments. The pressure was building up inside him until he could take no more. He walked into what M loved to call their ‘drawing room’ and turned around looking up, but not really seeing everything around him.

He walked over to the side table and picked up a beautiful large, heavy Waterford Cristal vase that he’d bought for M when they visited Southern Ireland together. The tears ran down his cheek as he stood before the large mirror above the fireplace. Before he knew what he was doing, he launched the vase at the mirror, both shattering into myriad pieces around his feet. Terry fell to his knees, his head in his hands, his body shaking from the sobbing he could not stop.

It must have been 30 minutes later that he finally raised his head and looked around at the debris that was once a beautiful vase and mirror and groaned. “Pull yourself together, Thorne,” he said out loud to himself. Struggling to get up, his legs had gone to sleep, he slowly went into the kitchen for something to clear up the mess.

All traces of glass now in the bin, and the empty frame taken off the wall, Terry realised there were important things to do. He headed into his study and sat at his desk. Pulling the phone towards him, his hands shook as he dialled the first number. It was time to speak to the girls…