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“What about his parents?”
Rick shook his head. “His mum died when he was really young. Bit of a party goer, so he says, but it’s all hearsay really, bits of memories, scattered information from people who didn’t really know. They found her in a pool, face down and in nothing but her knickers. Accidental death officially. I don’t know much more than that. Carl was only six at the time. They found him in filthy clothes at one of her loser mate’s flats.”
My stomach lurched. “Shit.”
“He doesn’t talk about it much.”
“And then what? What happened to him?”
He sighed. “A load of shit. Life in care, like loads of other kids. Not enough attention, not enough love. They didn’t manage to find his dad, so they said. Only then this loser rocks up when Carl’s about thirteen years old. Says he hasn’t got space or money to have Carl come live with him, but he loves him, misses him, thinks about him all the time, yada fucking yada.”
“He wasn’t genuine?”
Rick shook his head, and his face was stony. “He was a fucking asshole. Used to get Carl to dofavoursfor him. Piece of fucking crap.”
“Favours?” I felt sick inside, but Rick shook his head.
“Nothing like that, not that I know, but I wouldn’t swear on it. Drugs.Hold onto this for me, Carl, it’s a present for a friend. Don’t tell anyone, I want it to be a surprise. I’m working on a place for us, Carl, me and you, won’t be long now.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Of course Carl did whatever the asshole wanted. He was a teenage lad hoping someone actually gave a shit, you know? Thought he could be something to somebody, finally. Makes me so fucking angry.”
“What happened?”
Rick tipped his head back, squinted at the sun. “A carer found one of the parcels hidden behind a skirting board by Carl’s bunk. Along came the police, social workers, a million questions. Bye bye, Dad.”
“His dad went to prison?” My heart was in my throat.
“Part of a bigger investigation, I think. Yeah, he went down for it, good fucking riddance. Carl ate himself up with guilt, sent letters, never heard back. Not a fucking thing. Never has. I mean what kind of cunt even does that to their own kid? Sets them up and then just fucking bails? Doesn’t even fucking reply?” Rick shook his head. “Poor kid went off the rails. Started vandalising shit, fighting, stealing. He says it was like he was filled with this… tar, all black and thick, just this… rottenness. Says he felt like he was worth nothing, didn’t deserve anything, didn’t even want anything. Ended up in juvenile detention, then back in care. A problem kid.” He paused, picked at the woodchips. “It’s not really my place to tell you this shit, but I think you should know. So you understand.”
My eyes felt sore and full of tears. Too much, all at once. Jack’s yard, and baby talk, and Carl. Mainly Carl.
“Shit,” Rick said. “I know this is fucked up, I know it’s sad, believe me, it breaks my fucking heart, but please, whatever you do, please don’t look at him like that.”
“Like what?” I asked, and my voice was crackly.
“Like you’re looking at me, now. Like you pity him, like you feel sorry for him. He’d hate it. It’s the last thing he wants, that isn’t who he is.”
“But I do,” I said. “Feel sorry for him, I mean. I don’t pity him, he’s not the kind of guy you could pity.” I looked away. “He seems so strong, so grounded, so… together.”
“He is. He’s all those things. He’s the best man I know. The strongest man I know.”
The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. “How did he… how could he… who even comes back from something like that?”
“A guy like Carl does.” Rick smiled. “Don’t ask me how, but he did. Pulled his shit together, made a better life for himself. Carl’s steely and determined, serious… motivated. You’ve probably noticed,” he laughed, “He can seem… unapproachable. But that’s just the grit he uses to push himself forward, and underneath that, despite everything, all the shit he’s been through, all the times he’s been let down and fucked over, despiteallthat, he’s loyal, and kind, and generous. He wants the best for people, he gives his best for people, always his best.” He paused, looked right at me. “He credits your dad for a lot of that.”
My belly panged. “I’m sure my father can’t take the credit for much of that.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He looked at me. “I always speak as I find, and I’ve always found your dad to be a top guy. No bullshit, no games. Sees the best in people, just like Carl does.”
“That’s not how I’ve found him,” I said, and my voice was prickly.Iwas prickly. “Not ever. Not at all.”
Rick didn’t linger on it. “Anyway, this is just background. The real heart of the matter, this baby thing, that’s been brewing for years. Carl told me there was this park about twenty minutes’ walk from the hostel, a better park than the rundown piece of shit one by theirs. He used to take himself off there, and sit and watch. There were families, he said, nice families. Proper mums and dads with happy kids, just having a good time. He used to sit outside the fence and watch them, and pray that he’d have a family like that of his own one day. People to love.” He sighed. “Kids to love.” He picked up a bit of woodchip, turned it in his fingers. “When your dad gave him a shot he threw himself into work, to get ready for the future, to make something of himself. That’s what he says. Didn’t meet Melanie until his late twenties, but thought she was the one. She claimed she felt the same. Who wouldn’t with a guy like Carl? He’s gorgeous, successful, smart…” His voice trailed off. “But the woman was a wild thing, believe me. Couldn’t imagine her doing the school run, to be honest, couldn’t imagine her with a couple of kids, not in a million years. But he could.”
“She was the woman with him when you met?”
He nodded. “Yeah, on some seedy website. You know the drill. Turned up at theirs and hit it off. I thought they were cool. Nice couple, great in bed. Adventurous. They seemed pretty solid, until they really weren’t.”
