mate’s!’ Sniggering into her hand she kicked the steel paper bin over.
‘Sadie,’ Mum chided.
‘Leave the girl alone, Della. It was an accident,’ Dad commanded.
Mum sighed and turned to leave. Sadie and Dad did this constantly – belittled her – made her feel like a neurotic hen-pecking woman. It was their way of denying the true problem of my OCD. Dad was convinced it was all caused by Mum’s constant stresses in life. She fussed over everything, in his opinion. She was always so neat and tidy, always cleaning. She was a perfectionist and put such pressure on the academic side of our schooling. Sadie was clearly rebelling against her strict regimes, Dad believed. That’s why he never chastised Sadie for the way she spoke to her auntie. She gave us children no breathing space, he convinced himself.
Saddened or maddened that neither of them would take the missing me seriously, she wasn’t sure which, their indifference had calmed her a little, however, and her fears that I might have attempted suicide yet again were slightly allayed.
Down to the lounge, followed by the conservatory but still no me. Into the snug where my Xbox lay, abandoned. Wrong choice of words! Where my Xbox lay carefully positioned, completely in line with the control. All plug sockets switched off!
Not in the house, then. She glanced at the kitchen clock, a stainless-steel face with cutlery branching off for each number. Ten past twelve already. The guests would be arriving anytime now but she was intent on finding me, even if it meant the loss of her perfect hostess reputation.
A quick dash into the adjoining garage, her tormented mind suggesting she might find me hanging from a beam. Sadie and Dad would moan at her if they could read her thoughts. Her heart was beating fast as she was running out of realistic places to find me. Despite Sadie and Dad’s protests, she knew for certain that I wouldn’t have ‘popped out’. The shed offered a last hope, but what on earth would I go in there for? All the family acknowledged the shed was Dad’s territory. Again the evil voice in her head suggested she was about to find a body.
A clue – the shed was unbolted. Bravely, she pushed the door ajar. Cobwebs tickled her face as she stepped inside. Paint, mustiness, rotten grass cuttings left clinging to the rollers of the lawnmower, forged a formidable stench. I clearly wasn’t here either but then she saw the tiny light in the corner of the shed. Pushing the door wider to allow more daylight in she saw it was my mobile. I squatted on the floor, my back to her. Headphones prevented me from hearing her. I was chanting. Feeling she was invading something very personal she crept closer. It was essential to her that she should hear what I was saying. I was chanting the Lord’s Prayer over and over. My mobile in one hand, a string of what looked like rosary beads in the other. I jumped as she placed her hand on my shoulder. Relief swept over her at finding me alive and safe. I turned and looked up at her. The eyes of an old man haunted my boyish features. My cheeks were tear-stained, tension controlled my jaw.
‘Why?’ she whispered.
‘It just helps,’ came my pathetic response.
‘How? What will happen if you don’t?’
‘Bad, bad thoughts will come. This stops them.’
Sadie’s mocking face floated before her. What other sixteen-year-old boy would do this when they could be out with their mates? Sadie was right. I was a weirdo but what could any of them do about it?
‘Your other cousins will be arriving any second now, Josh.’ She would try the angry approach.
‘Get yourself back inside this minute. Put something decent on and then come down and help me set the table.’
My emotions were injured by this abrupt reaction. I just gawped at her. Mum grabbed my hand. ‘Get the hell out of here, you freak, before I call your dad.’
Astonished, I staggered out, blinking madly with the bright sunlight. She shoved me hard
‘Sadie,’ Mum chided.
‘Leave the girl alone, Della. It was an accident,’ Dad commanded.
Mum sighed and turned to leave. Sadie and Dad did this constantly – belittled her – made her feel like a neurotic hen-pecking woman. It was their way of denying the true problem of my OCD. Dad was convinced it was all caused by Mum’s constant stresses in life. She fussed over everything, in his opinion. She was always so neat and tidy, always cleaning. She was a perfectionist and put such pressure on the academic side of our schooling. Sadie was clearly rebelling against her strict regimes, Dad believed. That’s why he never chastised Sadie for the way she spoke to her auntie. She gave us children no breathing space, he convinced himself.
Saddened or maddened that neither of them would take the missing me seriously, she wasn’t sure which, their indifference had calmed her a little, however, and her fears that I might have attempted suicide yet again were slightly allayed.
Down to the lounge, followed by the conservatory but still no me. Into the snug where my Xbox lay, abandoned. Wrong choice of words! Where my Xbox lay carefully positioned, completely in line with the control. All plug sockets switched off!
Not in the house, then. She glanced at the kitchen clock, a stainless-steel face with cutlery branching off for each number. Ten past twelve already. The guests would be arriving anytime now but she was intent on finding me, even if it meant the loss of her perfect hostess reputation.
A quick dash into the adjoining garage, her tormented mind suggesting she might find me hanging from a beam. Sadie and Dad would moan at her if they could read her thoughts. Her heart was beating fast as she was running out of realistic places to find me. Despite Sadie and Dad’s protests, she knew for certain that I wouldn’t have ‘popped out’. The shed offered a last hope, but what on earth would I go in there for? All the family acknowledged the shed was Dad’s territory. Again the evil voice in her head suggested she was about to find a body.
A clue – the shed was unbolted. Bravely, she pushed the door ajar. Cobwebs tickled her face as she stepped inside. Paint, mustiness, rotten grass cuttings left clinging to the rollers of the lawnmower, forged a formidable stench. I clearly wasn’t here either but then she saw the tiny light in the corner of the shed. Pushing the door wider to allow more daylight in she saw it was my mobile. I squatted on the floor, my back to her. Headphones prevented me from hearing her. I was chanting. Feeling she was invading something very personal she crept closer. It was essential to her that she should hear what I was saying. I was chanting the Lord’s Prayer over and over. My mobile in one hand, a string of what looked like rosary beads in the other. I jumped as she placed her hand on my shoulder. Relief swept over her at finding me alive and safe. I turned and looked up at her. The eyes of an old man haunted my boyish features. My cheeks were tear-stained, tension controlled my jaw.
‘Why?’ she whispered.
‘It just helps,’ came my pathetic response.
‘How? What will happen if you don’t?’
‘Bad, bad thoughts will come. This stops them.’
Sadie’s mocking face floated before her. What other sixteen-year-old boy would do this when they could be out with their mates? Sadie was right. I was a weirdo but what could any of them do about it?
‘Your other cousins will be arriving any second now, Josh.’ She would try the angry approach.
‘Get yourself back inside this minute. Put something decent on and then come down and help me set the table.’
My emotions were injured by this abrupt reaction. I just gawped at her. Mum grabbed my hand. ‘Get the hell out of here, you freak, before I call your dad.’
Astonished, I staggered out, blinking madly with the bright sunlight. She shoved me hard
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