he heard his mother’s screech of fury at being disobeyed by one of her sons. A carer came up to him.
‘Having another of her turns?’ she asked, her face showing her disapproval of their most ungrateful resident.
‘A fit of temper, that’s all.’ He didn’t want them chucking her out; that would be a nightmare.
There was another great cry and the carer frowned.
‘Maybe I should page a nurse to come and sedate her.’
‘Just give me a minute; it may not be necessary.’
Steve stepped back into his mother’s room and closed the door. On seeing him again she opened her mouth to scream but he forestalled her.
‘Wait. Before you decide to do that, think. They’ll come and sedate you, put you out. Is that what you want?’
She swore at him, a flow of expletives that bounced off a skin thickened to armour.
‘Your choice,’ he said, ‘but if they have to drug you too often they’ll decide you’re too much bother and lock you up in the loony bin. You’d hate that; with all those crazies around you.’
The shouting stopped and his mother looked confused.
‘Want to go home.’ She picked up Dan’s paw of a hand. ‘Take your poor old mum home, son,’ she said to him, tears in her eyes. ‘Let me die there in peace. Please?’
Dan lowered his head onto her hand where it gripped his.
‘Don’t talk about dying, Mum, not you. You can’t die. Course we’ll take you home, won’t we, Steve?’
Above Dan’s bowed head his mother beamed a smile of pure malice at Steve. His bowels churned but he managed to smile back as he said.
‘’Fraid not, Bruv. I signed the papers to admit her, if you remember, ’cos you were too upset. So it’ll take my signature to have her released and I’m not doing it.’
Dan let out a growl and was on him before he had a chance to defend himself. One hand grabbed his sweatshirt, twisting the fabric so that it choked him. The other slammed into the wall beside his head, close enough for Steve to think the punch was for real.
‘Sign the fucking papers, little brother, or I’ll kill you.’
‘No,’ Steve managed to gasp, too aware that if Mum ever left the home his life would be a constant hell.
‘I’ll beat you to a pulp,’ Dan said and raised his fist. Behind Dan’s back his mum chuckled.
‘Hear that? She’s loving this.’ Steve tried to swallow air. ‘You can’t look after her any more, mate, the council won’t let you.’ The pressure on his throat lessened and Steve took a painful breath. ‘Even if I asked them to send her back they wouldn’t agree. She’s too sick; you know she is.’
Dan dropped his fist and turned away. Steve had won the battle – for now. Behind them his mum realised she had lost and started her screaming. Steve picked up his coat and dragged his brother outside where a qualified nurse was talking to the carer.
‘She’s all yours,’ Steve said, pulling Dan away with difficulty.
It was dark outside with frost glinting on windscreens even though it was barely five o’clock. They walked in silence to their vehicles. Steve lit up and offered a fag to Dan who was always out of smokes on Monday. Dan shook his head.
‘Go on, take one. It’ll do you good.’
‘You cheeked our mum,’ Dan said by way of reply.
‘Put her in her place that’s all. She needed it.’
The pain in his jaw was nothing to that in his head as his skull hit the concrete. He blacked out briefly and saw stars when he opened his eyes. His face was on fire, his brain scrambled by the punch. He lay there, the cold penetrating his back as he tried to clear his head.
Dan carried on walking without a backward glance and reached his van. Steve rolled on his side and pulled his knees up to his chest but the movement set his head thumping. He barely noticed the van’s engine stutter to life, too preoccupied with his own pain, but when the headlights flashed onto main beam and Dan gunned the vehicle towards him Steve’s head came up sharply. The rusty grey