The Broken Man. Josephine Cox

cards in a special hiding place. And sometimes we play loud music on the radio and Mum shows me how to tango and rumba and all that.’

      His face broke into a proud smile. ‘She was a champion ballroom dancer once. She won all sorts of trophies and she’s got photographs of her in these beautiful gowns. She said Father asked her to give it all up when they got married, so she gave her dresses away and never danced again. She kept all her photographs and trophies, but Father locked them away. She knows where the key is, though, and when he’s not here, she gets them all out.’

      Growing afraid in case anyone was listening, he lowered his voice again. ‘He doesn’t know that Mum searched everywhere for the key. She found it under the carpet in their bedroom. When he’s not here, she sets all her trophies out on the sideboard, and then she teaches me to dance. Oh, Phil, she looks so beautiful. It’s not fair. Why would Father lock away all her precious things like that?’

      Phil was shocked. ‘I’m sure I have no idea, son.’

      Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Phil led the conversation in a slightly different direction: ‘So, would your mum ever want to dance in public again, do you think?’

      Adam nodded. ‘Oh, yes! She says she’s still young enough to take it up again. She even mentioned it to Father, but he said if she ever spoke of it again he would have to destroy everything, so she couldn’t ever be tempted. I don’t think she will ever dance again, though.’ Glancing up at Phil, he smiled. ‘Not in public, anyway.’

      Phil was beginning to see a much wider picture of this family, and it was not good. ‘Mmm, well, all I can say is, it’s a pity your father has to work such long hours. But it’s good that you and your mum get to spend that time together, isn’t it?’

      Adam nodded. ‘It’s really nice when Father isn’t there. Sometimes, me and Mum go across the fields for miles and miles. We stay out for ages. Then on the way back, we get fish and chips, and sit on a park bench to eat them. That way we don’t make the house smell, because then Father would know what we’ve been up to.’ Breathless and excited, he went on, ‘Oh, and sometimes we go to the pictures.’ His face lit up. ‘Last Saturday we went to see a cowboy film.’

      Allowing the boy to chatter on excitedly, Phil instinctively eased him round a muddy puddle.

      ‘Do you have a pet? A little dog, mebbe?’

      ‘No. One time, Mum bought me a tabby cat, but it got run over. His name was Thomas and I really loved him. I taught him to do little tricks and he followed me everywhere, though Father would chase him out if he went into the house.’

      Phil chuckled. ‘I had a cat like that once. Up to everything, he was.’

      ‘Thomas was the cleverest cat I ever knew,’ Adam confided proudly. ‘I cried a lot when he was run over. Father said I was a big baby and I should be ashamed of myself. And now I’m not allowed to have a pet ever again.’

      ‘He got run over, you say?’ That surprised Phil because, in his experience, most cats would head for the woods rather than risk going over a main road. ‘That’s a real shame. How did you find out?’

      ‘Father told us that he found Thomas in the woods, and that he was hurt so bad that he died, so he buried him where he found him. I wanted to go and say goodbye, but Father wouldn’t tell me where he was. He said that way I would get over him much quicker.’

      ‘Oh dear, that’s really sad. I’m so sorry.’ Having learned a good deal about Adam’s bullying father, Phil could not help but wonder about the cat’s demise.

      He had an idea. ‘Look, Adam, being as it’s such a lovely afternoon, I’ll be taking my little dog for a walk through these lanes before it gets dark. You could ask your parents if you can tag along. What d’you say to that, eh?’

      Adam shook his head. ‘I’m not allowed.’

      ‘Oh, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, does it? You never know. My old dad used to say, “If you don’t ask, you don’t get.”’

      Adam shook his head. ‘Father won’t let me, but thank you anyway, Phil.’

      ‘Ah, well, never mind, eh? Mebbe another time.’

      ‘Yes, I would really like that.’

      A few moments later they arrived at the house: a fine Victorian dwelling with tall chimneys, large windows and a sweeping drive. Set in beautifully landscaped grounds, it made an impressive sight. ‘I’ll be fine now, Phil, thank you.’

      ‘All right, son. I’ll just watch you go inside the gate, then I’ll make my way home.’ Reassured by the lit forecourt and drive, he waited for the boy to close the gate behind him.

      ‘Oh, look! Father’s home.’ Adam pointed to the big Austin saloon parked in the garage entrance. His face fell visibly as he prepared to go in.

      In that same moment a man who had to be Adam’s father burst from the house. Lingering a moment in the shade of the porch, he appeared surprised to see the two of them at the gate.

      ‘Afternoon, Mr Carter.’ Phil raised his hand in greeting, but the other man gave no response as he scurried to his car.

      Leaning closer, Adam confided in a whisper, ‘I’m glad he’s going out, because now I’ll be able to spend time with Mum, instead of being made to work in the office with Father.’

      Phil understood, but thought it best not to stir up trouble. In his experience family problems usually sorted themselves out. ‘Right, well, I reckon I’d best be on my way.’

      ‘’Bye, then, and thank you.’ Adam went towards the house, while Phil turned and trudged back down the lane, deep in thought.

      He had gone only a short distance when he heard angry yelling.

      ‘You’ll do as I say, or you’ll feel the length of my belt! Get out of my way, damn you!’

      A minute later, Phil heard the sound of a car door being slammed, then the revving of an engine.

      Phil thought if that was the father shouting, it was no wonder the boy had little love or respect for him.

      Deep in thought, he pushed on down the lane. Suddenly a car skidded past him at break-neck speed, the wheels sending a thick spray of mud all over Phil’s trouser-leg. ‘BLOODY LUNATIC! TRYING TO KILL ME, ARE YOU?’ Shaking his fist as the car bounced out of the lane and onto the main road, he recognised the big Austin belonging to Adam’s father. ‘Bloody madman!’ Phil yelled, brushing the mud from his trousers as he grumbled. ‘You want locking up. You’ve not heard the last of this, I can tell you.’

      About to continue on his way, he thought he heard a cry from somewhere behind him. Then he heard it again; this time closer. It was Adam. Running towards Phil, the boy was clearly distressed, ‘Phil … help me!’

      When he fell over, he made no attempt to scramble up. Instead, he remained where he fell, calling out, ‘Come back! I need you, Phil … please.’

      Slipping and stumbling on the uneven ground, Phil hurried back to him. By then, Adam was crumpled on the ground, frantically rocking back and forth, his two arms crossed over his head as though defending himself.

      Shocked, Phil lifted him from the ground and held him close. ‘What is it, son? What’s happened?’ It was clear that something terrible must have happened.

      ‘We need you … please, Phil.’ Trembling in the man’s arms, the boy glanced about furtively, his eyes big with fear as he looked back towards the house. ‘Phil, you have to come and see.’ He lowered his voice to a confiding whisper. ‘It was him, I know it was. It was him, Phil. I hate him, I hate him!’

      ‘Ssh … take a deep breath, son. Tell me what’s happened.’

      ‘I don’t know! You have to help me,