Page 58 of On The Edge

33

Cat picked up the destroyed canvases, and reflected on the time she had put into each one. It was heartbreaking to see them now, savagely attacked and lying in angry strips. Cat anxiously leaned all the vandalised work together in the back studio. She knew she had to let go of the sorrow she felt, as it was useless to hold onto it when the damage had already been done. She doubted whether she could capture those feelings again in her paintings; she had changed since she had painted them; moved on from that girl in the midst of rediscovering herself, at a time that now seemed so long ago. Anger bubbled inside her at Alan’s selfish attack; he cared little about the consequences, driven only by the need to create mayhem in the lives of those around him, to replicate what he had experienced in his. But then, had she always dealt with her own problems deftly, without cost to others? She sighed, and began to tidy up any debris left on the floor, leaving the empty wall spaces to await the arrival of Jess. After things had cooled down between the brothers, Cat had sent them away to Patrick’s house, where he would certainly have had to explain to his girlfriend who the newcomer was! A part of Cat felt sorry for Alan: he had lost his mother, had felt abandoned by his family, and had so many questions and doubts about where he came from. On the other hand, she could see why Patrick had wanted to protect his mother against the hurt his brother had caused, jumping in and out of prison with petty thefts and assault. It seemed messy and complicated, and Cat knew they would need time if either of them stood a chance at healing their respective wounds. She swept the floor one last time and sat back at the front desk, until she heard a car pull up, and Jess’s familiar laugh sound from outside. The car continued on and Jess came in the front door with a cautious look on her face.

“Cat, why are you still here? It’s really late!” She squinted at her friend, adjusting her eyes to the bright gallery lights.

Cat locked the door behind her, and led her upstairs to a comfortable seat for the news she was about to divulge.

“What? Why would someone even -!” She stood abruptly and marched downstairs again, with Cat hot on her tails. Jess saw the gaps on the walls suddenly, and shrieked, then continued through to the studio. “No no NO!” She knelt by the destroyed canvases that were up against the wall, pulling each one out and examining it, trembling. “What kind of a horrible bastard does this?!”

“He’s a troubled boy, Jess. I’m so sorry, I went upstairs for a few minutes and heard the noise, but when I came back down it was too late. I’m sorry – I never thought anything like this could happen here...” Cat leaned against the wall, exhausted from the day’s events, finally creeping up on her.

Jess placed the art down, turning round to her friend. “I don’t blame you, of course I don’t - it’s not your fault that some pathetic kid saw fit to destroy something beautiful of ours.” Jess glanced back at the pieces. “Well, it is mostly your work, Cat, I’m sorry.”

“But one of yours too Jess!” Cat said gently. “I’ll make sure it’s paid back to you, or if you still want to go to the police... then I understand. It’s your business, whatever you see is the right way, I will support you, fully, I promise. I just didn’t want to see him arrested, especially with his record. I suppose I felt sorry for him. Only someone really unhappy would have done this kind of ...” Cat trailed off.

“Cat, he is not our problem!”

“I know, I know. But I know a cry for help when I see it.”

“But the insurance... I’m uncomfortable about letting someone off scot-free, just look how malicious this was!”

Cat looked at her friend, unsure what else to say. “Well I can always paint more – and I'll put the profits back into the gallery for the new pieces! I'm convinced it was a one-off thing, otherwise I’d be right with you – he even told me as much - it was to get Patrick’s attention. It’s that or see someone’s life set back another couple of years. I don’t know how much more time inside he can take before there’s nothing left for any of us to protect.”

Jess sighed, rubbed her forehead and put her arm around Cat. “Let’s just deal with this in the morning, it’s late. Stay the night; we’ll know what to do in the morning.”

The following day, Cat and Jess decided not to open the gallery. Cat woke feeling an uneasiness at letting Alan go so quickly, perhaps he had absconded on the ferry that morning after all, before the police could be notified? She also hadn’t heard anything from Patrick, and began to think the worst. Patrick, understandably, would want to protect his little brother – wouldn’t he? At the demand of Jess, both girls went off to Patrick’s in search of some answers. Outside the door with the familiar horseshoe, Cat’s heart started to thump - would she see that girl again this time? She shrugged the feeling off, it didn’t matter: either way she and Jess needed to know where the brothers were. They knocked on the door, but no answer came. After several minutes, Cat peered in through the tiny window next to the front door, but things looked quiet and still; all she saw was the same women’s red coat on the couch.

She shrugged to Jess, whose face was red with fury.

“I knew it! He’s buggered off, and Patrick’s chickened out about coming to tell us!” Jess roared.

“You don’t know that,” Cat tried to soothe her friend.

“Why wouldn’t they have come earlier and apologised then? Bloody hell, I should’ve called the police last night, what was I thinking?” Jess raged, and stormed off.

Cat didn’t know what to think herself, and her mind swam with unhelpful thoughts. She couldn’t imagine Patrick would allow his brother to disappear on them, but perhaps after some time together last night he wanted to save his brother any further time in prison, just as she had. What did it matter if a few pieces of art were destroyed in the process?

Jess slammed the gallery door behind them and went to the phone, she stopped for a moment, and looked at Cat. Cat knew what she meant to do, and nodded.

Just as she lifted the receiver, a tap came from the door, and Cat opened it to reveal both brothers waiting nervously outside.

“Where were you? We came to your house, but no-one was there!” Cat demanded as she let them both in.

“I’m sorry, sorry Jess,” Patrick said, his head low, and Cat noticed he was wearing the same clothes as the night before. “We went for a walk, we needed time – to try and talk about things - properly.” He looked at his brother for confirmation. “Right?”

“Right,” came the Irish accent Cat hadn’t noticed the previous night, but was certainly stronger than Patrick’s. Alan turned to Jess, who sat staring at him with phone in hand.

"I was just about to call the police,” she sniffed defiantly.

“You must be Jess.” Alan looked her in the eye briefly, and then cast his eyes everywhere but her face. “I don’t know how to apologise properly... You have every right to call the police, I just get so angry sometimes and I don't know how -” His face went pink and he looked up at Patrick for help, but his brother stood still, quietly watching. “No – I suppose I never made myself face up to how I deal with it. I’m very sorry, I’ll pay you back, for everything.”

“Oh yeah, like you’ve got a few grand to spare?” Jess scoffed.

He stood still, considering his words. “I do have some money – a couple of hundred – just to start. And I could help you out somehow, do any jobs you might need, anything... until I can make up the rest. Pat says he’ll let me stay until I’ve made up the cost.”

Cat watched him closely, the boy was shaking with nerves. Perhaps he had more problems than Patrick had led her to believe. Jess sighed, and finally replaced the receiver. “Well... help us out, you say?”