The Broken Man. Josephine Cox

boy’s face now. ‘Adam, listen to me.’

      ‘No! I don’t want to.’ Tearful, Adam turned away.

      Phil persevered. ‘Think about what you’re asking, son. I know how much you want to see her, but it isn’t right for you just now. Later, when everything is in order, I’m sure you can see your mother … if you are still of the same mind.’

      ‘Please, Phil, I need to see my mum!’

      Phil tried gently to dissuade him. ‘I do understand, but do you really think your mother would want you to see her now? Or do you think she’d rather you remembered your last conversation with her, when she was still able to tell you how much she loved you? Don’t you think she would feel your sadness, if you were to see her now?’

      Phil’s wise words reached home. After what seemed an age, the boy took a long, deep breath and tried to be the man his mum would want him to be. ‘Is my mum really safe now, Phil?’ He needed reassurance.

      Phil promised him that she was safe.

      Adam accepted what Phil had told him, though he found it incredibly difficult to believe that he would never again see his mother, never again hear her voice. Never again hear her laugh, nor run with her across the fields. In his heart he could see her beautiful smile, and that funny way she had of wrinkling her nose when she laughed out loud.

      Suddenly the awful truth began to sink in, and the enormity of it all was too much for him to bear.

      In a voice that was almost inaudible, he whispered to Phil, ‘I’m really sad.’ Winding his arms round Phil’s wide waist, he confessed brokenly, ‘I don’t know what to do.’

      ‘Aw, son, we can none of us do anything, because when the Good Lord calls us home, we have to go.’ Phil held the boy tight to him. ‘But you’re not on your own, son, because I’m here for you. If I’m able, I will always be here for you.’

      Thankful that he had Phil, the boy confided in a whisper, ‘Phil, I don’t know if she heard me promise. I need her to know that I made the promise.’

      Choking back his emotion, Phil told him, ‘Don’t you worry about that, because she heard it all right – I heard it too – but y’know, son, sometimes we make promises and then, later, we regret them. You might need to think about that particular promise, the one you made to your mother. Maybe you won’t want to think about it just yet. But maybe later, when you’re not so very sad.’

      Adam was resolute. ‘If Mum had not made me promise, I would have told them everything … about how he hurt her, time after time, hitting her and making her cry. I hate him for what he did, but she didn’t want me to tell. Why did she not want me to tell?’

      Phil measured his words carefully. ‘Because she loved you so much, she did not want you to do something that might hurt you in the long run. I believe that was why she asked you to make that promise.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I think she wanted you not to tell, because if you told, then you would have so many awkward questions to answer. It would be a nasty business, with you caught up in it.’

      Leaning forward, Phil placed his hands either side of Adam’s face. ‘All you need to know is that your mother loved you, and that no one will ever be able to hurt her again.’

      Looking into Phil’s kind, weathered face, Adam saw such honesty.

      ‘Phil?’

      ‘Yes, son?’

      ‘She’s died, hasn’t she?’

      ‘Yes, son.’

      ‘Has she gone to the same place as your wife?’

      ‘Yes, I’m sure she has.’

      ‘Will they be friends?’

      ‘I would like to think so.’

      ‘But I’d rather my mum could be here with me, because then, when I get older, I could keep her safe always.’

      ‘Ah, but that’s not your job, son, because now she’s in the safest place of all. Your mum was an angel on earth, but angels belong in Heaven. She’ll be well looked after there.’

      ‘I want her back, Phil. I miss her … I really miss her.’ Suddenly the full truth had hit home. He could no longer be brave; and his grief was overwhelming. Hiding himself in Phil’s musty old coat, he sobbed as though his heart would break.

      Holding him close, Phil took him to the couch, where he sat beside him, holding him until he sobbed himself to sleep.

      A short time later, Matron arrived. On seeing the boy asleep on the couch, she went out and returned with a fleecy blanket, which she handed to Phil.

      She watched him wrap it around Adam before quietly informing him, ‘I’m afraid we have to discuss official matters.’ She beckoned Phil to the other side of the room, lowering her voice as she told him, ‘I am led to understand that you are not the grandfather after all. Is that true?’

      Knowing he must, Phil told her his name and the whole story: how he had dropped Adam from the school bus and walked home with him down the lane; how he was on his way back to his bus when he heard the boy shouting. ‘In a shocking state, he was, finding his mother like that, and his father running off like a spineless coward. I don’t know if it was the father who hurt her, but Adam seems convinced of it.’

      ‘So, why did you not inform us of these circumstances right away?’

      ‘I gave as much information as I could, but it was your staff who chose to believe I was his grandfather, and besides, there were more urgent matters to deal with at the time, as you well know.’

      ‘Well, I’m sorry, but since we have become aware of the truth, I’m afraid it was our duty to call in the authorities.’

      ‘What authorities?’ Phil recalled the officials in the office, and all his fears returned. ‘Look, Matron, I make no apologies for letting you believe that I was his grandfather, because as far as I’m aware, he’s got no one else.’

      ‘I see.’ As a woman, Matron was deeply sympathetic, but duty was her priority, along with the boy’s welfare.

      She explained, ‘In the light of what we now know, this is a very serious situation. The boy’s mother has died under suspicious circumstances, and the father has run away. Moreover, we are led to understand there are no close relatives at hand to take care of the boy.’

      ‘I’ll take care of him then. At least until the in-laws can be found.’

      ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t think that will be an option.’

      ‘So, what will happen to him?’

      ‘That’s for the authorities to decide.’

      Before he could answer, she left with the parting words, ‘You do seem to have his interests at heart, and he obviously trusts you. If you could please continue to keep an eye on him, I’ll be back presently.’

      When she had gone, Phil paced the floor. This is a sorry state of affairs and no mistake, he thought, walking over to where Adam was sleeping. I can’t imagine what might happen to you now, son. He gazed down on the boy and he shook his head in despair. No family to speak of, and no one but me to stand by you.

      He understood the gravity of the situation. Unless Adam’s father was found there was little hope of getting the child home. Possibly not even then.

      Physically and emotionally exhausted, he sat down in a chair, laid himself back and closed his weary eyes.

      Some few minutes later the nurse arrived with two other people.

      Phil clambered out of the chair, one eye shut and the other on the boy. He still clung to the hope that, one way or another, he might yet be able to take the boy home.

      ‘These people need to speak with you,’ the nurse advised him. Having waved the visitors forward, she went