Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) by Mel Sherratt Page A

what’s bothering you, maybe I can support you.’
    Lewis’s laughter was cruel. ‘Stifle me, more like.’
    ‘Stifle you?’ Laura sat back in her chair. ‘How can you say that? You haven’t lived at home for twelve years, I’ve taken you back after the break-up of your marriage—’
    ‘It’s only a separation. I’ll get her back.’
    ‘—and in the space of a few months my whole way of life has been affected. It was bad enough losing your dad and being on my own, but I’m beginning to think that I’d rather it be that way. You have the nerve to say that I’m stifling you ?’
    ‘I can just as easily move out again, if that’s an issue,’ Lewis bristled.
    ‘Of course it isn’t. But you can’t continue to—’
    Lewis stood up abruptly, the chair scraping across the floor in his haste. ‘Look, Mum. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Honestly, I do. But no matter how much you want to help me, you wouldn’t want to be inside my head right now.’
    ‘Son.’ She touched his arm this time.
    ‘If I want to get Amy back, I have to do this my own way.’
    ‘But Amy doesn’t want to—’
    ‘Leave me alone!’
    Laura recoiled, her face paling at the anger in his voice.
    Lewis marched out of the kitchen and left the house with a bang of the front door. Margaret, who was sitting on her doorstep smoking a cigarette, threw him a filthy look.
    ‘What are you staring at?’ he shouted, before slamming shut the gate and running down the street.
    Why wouldn’t anyone listen? He deserved to be unhappy, couldn’t they see that? Why should he be happy when Nathan…
    Only when he had left the house far behind did his steps slow enough for him to catch his breath. What was the point in running? He couldn’t escape his problems, his fears. The guilt would come with him wherever he went. It would haunt him for the rest of his life. And he couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Because then everyone would know what had happened and whose fault it was.
    Once he’d calmed down a little, Lewis went across to Vincent Square. In Pete’s Newsagent, he found a pile of envelopes that he could buy individually and brought one. Next, he went into Shop&Save and withdrew sixty pounds from the cash machine inside the doorway.
    Once he’d popped the notes into the envelope, he walked back to Davy Road, hoping he’d be able to recall where he had caused the damage last night. Stopping suddenly, he drew level with a car parked outside a house. It was a Fiesta, in fairly old shape now. The passenger side mirror was missing, wiring hanging out of a hole in the door.
    Embarrassment flooded through Lewis at the thought of what he had done the night before. Feeling his skin reddening, he walked up the pathway and knocked on a door.
    It took a while for the door to be opened. An elderly woman with short, thinning grey hair stood looking through the half-inch gap allowed by the safety chain on the door. Over the top of her glasses, she eyed Lewis with contempt.
    ‘Didn’t you cause enough trouble last night?’ she snapped.
    ‘I did and I’m sorry.’ Lewis thrust the envelope through the gap in the door. ‘I came to give you this.’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Money for the mirror.’
    Her hooded eyes narrowed. ‘I can’t take that.’
    ‘Why not? It was my fault.’
    ‘Yes, I know but that doesn’t make it right.’
    Lewis frowned back. ‘What would make it right?’
    ‘You only needed to apologise.’
    ‘But it cost you money.’
    The door was shut in his face. Lewis was about to leave when he heard the chain being removed before the door was opened up fully. The woman couldn’t have been a day under eighty and immediately reminded Lewis of his nan who had passed away when he was in his late teens. She wore navy trousers and a two-piece pale blue cardigan and jumper. He could see from her posture that she was unsure on her feet. In his drunken state the night before, he hadn’t noticed the stick she was leaning