Page 57 of On The Edge

“Oh I see, not telling anyone about me, is it? Leaving me behind in Ireland with all your other secrets!” Alan spat.

“I don't have any secrets. All our shame is mixed up in you, and what you've done! We had to leave, you were making life too hard for us, and causing mum more grief than she needed in her illness. I'll never forgive you for that. Never,” Patrick said quietly through clenched teeth.

“You took her away from me, she was my mother too!” Alan stood tall, inches from Patrick face.

“We gave you enough chances, you never listened - just determined to destroy your life and ours. Jesus Alan, what did you want? Did we not give to you enough? Weren't we there for you when you got expelled from school, and arrested, time and time again?” Patrick flexed his fists, as if ready to fight once more. “You were selfish; all you cared about was yourself, and you believed everything those thugs told you. We couldn't give you anymore. You made mum miserable.”

“She made me miserable! Not telling me about my Dad for all those years! You two are both as bad as each other – if you don't like it, you just pretend it never happened! You're pathetic!”

“Alan, we've been over and over this. She was trying to care for you, trying to do the right thing to say we both had the same father, to love us both just the same - you just couldn't help yourself snooping through her personal things!”

“I'm glad I did - didn't I find the letters? How could she do that... she was a slut.”

Cat froze on the spot as Patrick walked right up to his brother, white with anger.

“What did you say?” Patrick clenched his fists once more and Cat intervened immediately.

“Stop!” she demanded. “You're both in my building and I will not have a fight in here! I want you to go upstairs and get us some tea, Patrick – there's a bit of whisky left in the top left cupboard if you think any of us can handle it.”

Alan sniggered. “Oh, she's got you in your place, hasn't she!”

Cat turned on Alan. “And you can quit that, you absolute...-!” Cat stopped and took a breath. “You and I are going to have a chat - you still haven't explained why you decided to destroy my artwork, and my job. I could still call the police – so I'd stop grinning so much if I were you!” She pulled a seat around from the front desk, fuming. “Sit down here, now.” Alan made as though he were about to speak, then considered his options, and grudgingly sat down opposite Cat.

Patrick stood looking on in silence, before Cat realised he was still there.

“Patrick, it's fine let's have tea – please - Alan looks cold, and I am too.”

Patrick hesitated, eyes still fixed on his brother.

“It's OK, please Patrick.”

The older brother slowly moved back, turning briefly to check on them before he left the room.

“So, where are you staying?” Cat asked softly.

Alan scoffed but stayed quiet.

“Well, my guess is the hostel in Kirkwall.” She looked at him intently, and he eventually nodded.

“Alan, I can see you're angry but you're going the wrong way about it. Why would you come into the gallery and destroy my work? I don't know you, why me?” He stayed quiet for some moments but Cat pressed him. “If you need help, I'm sure we can -”

“I don't need help!” he retorted instantly, “it's my bastard brother who needs the help!”

“Alright, well, maybe we all need a bit of help from time to time,” agreed Cat with a sigh. “I know I do.” She gestured to the destroyed paintings on the ground. “But why would you do something like this?”

“I wanted him to suffer.”

“But -”

“You're involved, he cares about you, I could tell! I wanted to teach him a lesson, make him see he can't take everything away from me and be happy himself, like nothing ever happened! And I knew the best way would be through you.”

Cat was stunned, but more so for getting out an explanation from this angry boy than by his distorted logic.

Patrick appeared, with a tray of cups and a packet of biscuits. He stood watching his brother, with a mixture of fury and grief flushing his face, and an awkward silence fell upon the three of them. Cat looked from brother to brother; she had to admit that even if they did have different fathers, there was still a striking resemblance. Patrick leaned over to Alan offering a biscuit, and he took one reluctantly, all the while refusing to make eye-contact.

“You never could refuse a Hobnob,” Patrick muttered, almost to himself, and Alan gave the smallest smile.