‘And he knew … he knew how he was going to end up. Incontinent. Unable to speak, to feed himself, to do anything. Slowly dying. He was wasting away right in front of our eyes … every time I saw him …’ Mark shook his head, swallowed convulsively. ‘I knew what he was going to ask us to do. He called Karen and me into the room one afternoon; sent the kids outside. And told us, the two people who loved him most in the world, that he wanted to die. Karen went crazy. She called him a coward, and worse – that he didn’t want to fight it, that he was giving up. Accused him of abandoning her and the kids. God, she said some terrible things! I thought she was just … wild with grief. I thought she’d come around. Because I was willing from the start. I didn’t want to lose him – I’d have done anything to keep him. But there was no keeping him – he knew it and I knew it. And I’d have done anything to stop him suffering. I thought Karen would accept it eventually, but … she didn’t. She was adamant. Suicide was not acceptable to her, and of course neither was murder. That’s what she called me, when I tried to persuade her. A murderer.
‘Another six months of this went by, and even though we didn’t talk about it much it was there. Every time I went to visit. Every time I saw Karen, she had this look in her eye – this awful, angry, admonishing look. Daring me to mention it. Warning me not to. And every time I was alone with James, he begged me to help him. He couldn’t even get himself in and out of his chair by then. They had carers coming to the house four times a day. His worst nightmare was coming true.’ Mark paused again, put his hand over his mouth for a second, as if to stop the words from coming out. ‘I wrote letters for him saying it was what he wanted and that I was only doing what he’d begged me to do. He signed them as best he could. One morning he gave the kids an extra thorough goodbye before they went to school. Then while Karen was taking them there, I gave him sleeping pills. As many as he could swallow. I bought them on the internet … God knows what was in them. But they worked. He … died. He died.’
‘Mark, I’m so sorry …’
‘You haven’t heard the best part yet. Karen reacted … as was to be expected, I suppose. And more so. She tore up the letters when I showed them to her. My own stupid fault – I should have made copies. She destroyed them and went straight to the police to report his murder. I just don’t know … I don’t know why she did that! I still don’t understand … that she could be so deeply in denial, and not know in her heart that this was what James wanted. That it was the best and kindest thing anybody could have done for him. Then his will was read and he’d left all that money to me – money to keep Dad in the home for a bit longer, without having to sell the house. Once the press got hold of that they tore me to pieces.’
‘But the trial was over in no time … everybody could see you’d acted from compassion. The judge even said it should never have gone to court …’
‘Tell that to Karen and the kids. And to the journalists with their bloody “Cain and Abel” headlines. She’s told the kids terrible things, Leah. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see them again. If they’ll ever forgive me.’
‘But … did they know he was dying? Did they know that?’
‘I’m not sure. I never spoke to them about it … Karen told me she was handling it. So I don’t know. I don’t know.’
‘But … once they’re older, once they can find out for themselves how ill he was … I’m sure they’ll want to see you,’ she tried.
‘Well. I suppose only time will tell. So now it’s just me and Dad. He’s the only family I’ve got left. That’s willing to speak to me, anyway. Some of the time.’
‘That’s terrible. Mark, I … I really don’t know what to say,’ Leah said, helplessly.
‘There’s nothing to say. But now you know; and I wish I could say I feel better, telling you about it. But I really don’t.’ He took a deep breath, released a long, shuddering sigh.
‘It’s far too soon for you to be thinking you ought to feel better,’ she told him carefully. ‘You lost your brother, and all the shit afterwards meant you didn’t have a chance to mourn him.’
‘Well, I’ve got time now, haven’t I? Work fired me, of course. So much for innocent until proven guilty. They said my work had been falling below par for some time and it had nothing to do with the impending trial. Which is bollocks.’