Time To Play by KA Richardson (free children's ebooks online .txt) 📕

good place. Suddenly she remembered that they’d mentioned the street before; it was where they’d taken Nita. She would get to see her friend again. Nita would help her. She just knew she would.

 

Chapter Six

Connor’s Parents’ House, Sunderland – 4 November

Connor had been sitting in the car for almost half an hour. He’d purposely parked behind the hedge that surrounded his parents’ property so he could take a minute to prepare himself. But the minute had turned into more before he even realised.

He loved his parents, he really did. And he felt so guilty over what his mum was going through that it tore him apart at times.

Like today.

He sat in the car not wanting to go in and face his mother, or his dad for that matter. His dad had called him half an hour ago. I can’t even spend an hour in the gym without interruption. This sucks. Why won’t Dad just let me put her in a home? I’d choose a nice one, she’d be way better off. Hell, I’d be better off.

Frowning, he realised how selfish he sounded. His mother had carried him, cared for him, and raised him into a good man, despite the family trying to intervene. Who was he not to want to care for her now she needed it? But she’d be better off. That’s not selfish if it’s true.

Shaking his head, he pulled the car key from the ignition. He’d been battling with himself over this for months now, and half an hour in the car wasn’t going to make it any clearer, or easier. Sighing, he got out of the car and carefully shut the door, knowing if he didn’t concentrate on it, then his mood would cause him to slam it out of frustration.

When he entered the house, all seemed calm. There was no screaming, no shouting. Just peaceful quiet.

His suspicions instantly aroused, he yelled out, ‘Dad? I’m here.’

The kitchen was empty, so he made his way upstairs.

This is weird; he called me cos she was kicking off. Doesn’t sound like she’s kicking off.

He thought he heard something and cocked his head to one side, listening. Eventually the sound came again, a whimper or soft cry. Focussing on the sound, he made his way towards the bathroom.

‘Dad? Mum?’ he said when he reached the door. He heard the sound again, but this time it sounded more like a groan than a whimper. Reaching for the handle, he twisted it and pushed the door open, not quite knowing what to expect.

His father was lying on the floor by the bath, a towel draped over his shoulder and a large cut and bruise to the side of the head.

‘Shit. Dad? Are you OK?’ His first aid training kicked in and he checked his dad’s vitals while pulling his mobile phone from his pocket and dialling 999.

‘Ambulance please, 41 Wainwright Grove, Sunderland. Adult male with suspected head injury, breathing but not conscious.’ Connor hit the loudspeaker button and put the phone down beside him.

It must have been a relatively quiet day, as the ambulance arrived within minutes, by which time his dad had started coming around. The crew took him to the hospital, but Connor had to stay at the house, he had bigger problems. Where the hell is Mum?

His dad had babbled about his mum hitting him over the head with a vase before the ambulance crew had arrived and stoically remained silent while the crew asked him the relevant questions. The only thing he told them was that he’d slipped on the bathroom floor.

Connor did a quick house search, room by room. He was sure she wasn’t inside. He made his way out into the rear garden. The large shed at the bottom was locked, and she wasn’t seated on the decked section.

Why didn’t I just get out of the car? Instead of sitting there like some kind of loser while my mum hits my dad then runs off. I’m such a bloody coward.

A noise sounded from inside the house and turning he ran back inside.

‘Mum,’ he yelled loudly, ‘You here?’

He pushed open the kitchen door and made his way into the hall, then paused, his mouth dropping open slightly.

His mum stood before him, wearing only her nightie, and next to her stood a cop.

‘Mum,’ he said, making his way towards her. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Where’s my son? He’s a policeman you know. He’ll arrest you both for being in my house without permission.’ Her voice sounded shaky, scared even.

Connor walked until he was right in front of her, ‘Mum, it’s me, Connor. You remember me, right?’

Narrowing her eyes at him, she screamed in his face. ‘You’re not my boy, you’re not my boy…’ She reached out her hand and went to slap him, but the police officer beside her caught her wrist and stopped the motion.

Connor knew he must look desperate. I don’t even know what to do now. This is ridiculous.

‘Connor? I’m Harry Green, the sergeant off D-Relief. We’ve met briefly. Is there somewhere she’ll calm down?’

‘Yeah, sorry, the chair in the living room window. She loves sitting there. It might help.’

Sheila pulled back against both of them as they manoeuvred her to the chair and sat her down. She had tears streaking down her cheeks and her screams slowly dulled to hiccups as she sat.

Connor and Harry sat on the sofa behind her.

‘Must be hard. We found her wandering down near the shops. Said she was looking for Marie and that she hadn’t come back with the milk?’

‘Marie’s my sister. She’s twenty-five and lives away at uni. She hasn’t been back in a month. Mum has Alzheimer’s.’

‘Figured as much, my granddad had it. Could barely remember his name most of the time. Is there someone to take care of your