In Barry’s mind the house had remained the same and the only difference was Adam in his place, but he now saw that was not the case. The room had less furniture than before. The corner sofa that had taken three years to pay for was gone. A three-seater and a two-seater lined the walls. In front of the TV, in prime position, his position, was a big empty space, ready for a wheelchair.
Barry briefly acknowledged that Lisa had needed to make short-term changes to accommodate Adam, but it wasn’t permanent. It could be put back to how it had been before. Soon, he would have a job and would be able to refurnish the house.
The brick fire surround and gas fire had been replaced by an inbuilt electric screen, flush with the wall, displaying a fake flame.
Again, nothing that was irreversible.
‘Who is it, darling?’ Adam called from the kitchen.
As he entered the room, Barry was vaguely aware of the lowered work surfaces and kitchen units but his eyes rested immediately on the tangled mop of blonde curls of his daughter. He caught his breath. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.
A dash of fear passed through Adam’s eyes but he placed a protective arm in front of Amelia.
Oh, that hurt. She was her father and she didn’t need protecting from him.
A cold front moved into his brother’s eyes. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘I’m here to see my family, of course,’ Barry answered, simply. He had no need to be hostile to his brother. Barry was about to take his life back and then Adam would be out in the cold. Adam deserved his sympathy.
‘Amelia, go to your room.’
She looked at the bowls and cake mix ready for use on the lowered counter. ‘But Daddy …’
Uncle, Barry thought but said nothing. It didn’t matter. She would soon know who her father was.
‘Amelia, please,’ Adam asked, gently.
She nodded and headed for the door.
Barry ruffled her soft hair as she passed by. She moved away from his touch. He understood that and didn’t blame his child. She didn’t know him. But she would.
‘You’re not supposed to be here. You know that.’
His wife stood with her arms crossed in front of her.
He moved towards her. ‘Lisa, we have to talk.’
She stepped back. ‘About what?’
‘Us.’
Barry heard the motorised wheelchair as Adam came in from the kitchen. That single sound confirmed that Alex had been right in encouraging him to come. Lisa could not possibly be happy.
He had built this prison for her and now he had to set her free.
‘Barry, there is no us.’
‘Sweetheart, we can try again …’
‘Don’t call me that,’ Lisa snapped.
‘It’s time for you to go,’ Adam offered.
Barry turned to his brother. ‘This has nothing to do with you. It’s between the two of us.’
Adam reached for the phone to the right of the sofa. Barry turned and grabbed it, ripping the lead from the wall.
‘Barry, for fuck’s sake …’
‘Is it too much to ask for a bit of privacy with my own wife?’
‘She’s not your …’
‘We divorced, Barry, remember?’ Lisa said, softly.
Barry turned back to her, phone still in hand. ‘And I understand that you had to do that, Lisa. I know what I did was wrong. I’ve paid the price for it.’
Lisa looked sad, regretful. ‘Not in a million years have you paid the price for what you did to us.’
‘But we can be “us” again. Just give me a chance to show …’
Lisa nodded towards Adam. ‘No, I meant us.’
Barry moved towards her and gripped her upper arm. ‘You can’t be imprisoned with him forever to compensate for what I did. You can’t stay with the man out of guilt.’
She winced and then shook off his touch. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘Look at him,’ Barry spat. ‘He’s a fucking cripple and I won’t let you give up your life when you know we should be together.’
‘You fucking bastard,’ Adam raged.
‘Stay out of it, you thieving wanker.’
Lisa stepped out of his reach. The familiar smell of her was overwhelming. She only ever wore Eternity.
His wife stood beside his brother. Her voice was kind, sympathetic. ‘Barry, it’s time to move on. There is no us anymore. You need to make another life for yourself.’
The words were gentle, patient; in a tone usually reserved for persuading children to eat their vegetables.
He met her earnest gaze.
Suddenly, he turned and saw what he’d missed on entry. Photographs. Above the fireplace was a family photo. The angle had been cleverly positioned to disguise the wheelchair but the tuxedo and bouquet jumped out with the clarity of a 3D movie. As did Lisa’s smile. He knew that smile.
He looked again.
Lisa stood beside Adam with her hand on his shoulder. There was no pain, no regret, no bowed head, no apology. Just fact.
Adam’s hand found Lisa’s and squeezed. A show of togetherness, unity. Lisa’s other hand, the one with the gold band, rested on her stomach, protectively.
At that moment, Barry’s world ended. All the hope Alex had given him died in his soul. His body felt like a shell, devoid of bone, muscle or organs. There was nothing.
Alex had been wrong.
He looked at the two of them, side by side. His brother, who had everything that had once belonged to him: his house, his wife, his daughter. His crippled brother had taken his entire life away from him. Erased him. Barry could imagine them lying in bed night, laughing at the feelings he still had for his ex-wife.
The familiar red mist cloaked his mind and he welcomed it back like an old friend. He had perfected techniques over the years to keep it away, or at best to control it. Right now, he embraced it.
Everything outside of these four walls dissolved into a vacuum. Right here, right now, was all there was. The holocaust had arrived and there was nothing else left.
Barry moved towards them slowly, offered his hand to Adam.
Barry saw the tension leave the upper body of his brother. Adam knew it was over. Barry knew it too.
Adam raised his hand to accept the handshake.
With one fluid movement borne out of having a ruthless trainer in the boxing ring, Barry’s right hand pulled Adam from the chair and loosed him onto the ground. A well-placed kick to the temple rendered him unconscious.
‘You fucking bastard,’ Barry spat.
Lisa managed one quick gasp before Barry’s left hand grabbed her throat, silencing her. ‘And you are a deceitful bitch.’
He pushed her against the wall and gazed into her eyes. Like a drowning man, their whole life together played out in his mind.
Her eyes showed fear and hatred. Good.
His wife’s terror fed the rage that filled every cell of his body. Every nerve ending in his fingers demanded satisfaction. They must both suffer what he had been made to endure.
His hands encircled flesh that he had caressed, kissed, bitten.
He spat in her face. ‘You cheating, disgusting whore. You did this to me.’
He squeezed the soft skin, compressing the airway that gave her and her unborn baby life.
Her arms flailed as her lungs screamed out for air. Desperate.
He squeezed harder, his eyes burning into hers.
‘B … arry …’
The sound of his name on her breath aimed straight for his heart. It was a sigh he remembered, but not like this.
The tears sprang to his eyes, blurring her already distorted features. His left hand released her throat as his right fist thundered against her temple.
‘Fuck you, bitch …’
Damn it, he still loved her.
She coughed and spluttered, her hand clasped to her neck. ‘Ame— ’
Even then Barry would have forgiven her anything; accepted her mistakes, until he saw her direction of travel.
Her nails dug into the carpet pile as she struggled to reach the inert form of her crippled, unconscious husband.