Крис Бекетт - Spring Tide

‘ Him flushing it, then.’ Once again I can’t quite keep the irritation from my voice. ‘But now it’s quiet.’

My aunt glances at my face. She has certainly registered my annoyance, but she’s not planning to flatter it with her attention, for if there’s one single thing in the world she’s not afraid of, it’s me. She sniffs.

‘I notice you still haven’t told me when he’s going out and coming back.’

‘He’ll go out at nine thirty and return just after five.’

‘He mustn’t come back any earlier then. He’s told you his plans, and now he must stick to them. If he finishes his business sooner than expected, he’ll just have to sit and wait in the park. His so-called business, I should really say, because I’m not fooled, David, even if you are. I know perfectly well that he just comes here because of me. It’s utterly pathetic, but it seems that’s how he gets his little kicks.’

‘I really don’t think it is, Aunt Angelica. You’re not quite such a big figure in his mind as he is in—’

‘Not back before five. You must make him promise that.’

Angelica is waiting. She’s beside the window, hiding behind the curtain but peeking out. It’s 4.30 in the afternoon.

‘What are you doing here at this hour?’ she demands, dropping the curtain immediately and stepping back with a flounce. ‘I sometimes wonder what they pay you for, David, in that job of yours. Don’t you have work to do?’

‘I thought I’d check if you were alright.’

‘Well, obviously I’m not. How could I be alright, when he’s on his way back here? He’ll probably be early. I know his timekeeping of old. So I was just having one last look at my lovely peaceful view before he spoiled it.’

‘Those blue roofs, eh? Those blue roofs climbing up the hill?’

‘Yes. But why do you say it in that sarcastic way? I must say you’ve been very unpleasant and sarcastic lately, David. I don’t know why you’re out of sorts, but I don’t think it’s very grown-up or fair of you to take it out on me.’ She snorts. ‘I suppose you were trying to hint that I was looking out for him , were you? Some chance! He should be so lucky. He – should – be – so – lucky .’

She crosses the room, picks up her cigarettes, fumbles the lighter open with her shaky hands.

‘Well, alright,’ she says. ‘I was looking out for him. But only to check that he kept his promise. Only for that.’

My tiny aunt pulls deeply at her cigarette, exhales, then glares defiantly out at me with her enormous eyes from the middle of a poisonous white cloud.

Angelica is listening.

She is really listening. She’s standing quite motionless in the middle of the room, her head tipped over to the right, her right ear positively straining towards the floor. She even holds back a wisp of her featherlight hair so as not to obstruct her hearing in any way.

‘He talks to himself, you know. I can hear him talking all the time. “ Mumble, mumble, mumble ,” he goes. “ Angelica this, Angelica that, Angelica three bags full .”’

She stands up straight. She lets that little wisp of hair fall back over her ear. She looks for her cigarettes.

‘You think I make it all up, don’t you? You really are so like your mother.’ She shrugs, lights a cigarette, draws deeply on it. ‘Well, you can believe what you like, David. It’s entirely up to you. But he does talk about me. Of course he does. How could he avoid it, when he thinks about me all the time?’

‘I’m sure he does think about you. I’m sure he really does care about you, as he cares for all the people in this building. And in your case, he remembers how it was, before… well, before you developed these feelings for him, when the two of you could just be friends. He wishes things could be like that again.’

‘He puts it all onto me, does he? How very convenient.’

‘He’d like to see you. He told me so himself. In fact he said he’d love to see you if—’

‘That’s enough ! That’s more than enough. You promised me – you promised me, David – that you wouldn’t pass on a single word he said.’

She cocks her head, pulls back her wisp of hair, listening once more with all her might. Then, apparently hearing nothing new, she stands up straight.

‘He had a visitor yesterday evening. I couldn’t tell who it was.’

She takes another long draw on her cigarette, looking over at me all the while in a sideways, sneaky sort of way.

‘And you are certainly not going to tell me, are you, David? That would be quite against all those high principles of yours.’

Getting no reply from me, she cocks her head again, and listens to the floor for a few seconds more before giving an irritated shrug and stubbing out the cigarette. I don’t know anyone who can consume a cigarette as fast as my aunt Angelica.

‘Typical of him, really. “I know what I’ll do,” he says to himself, “I’ll invite a mystery guest. That will arouse Angelica’s interest! That will get her going!” Well, let me tell you this, David, I’m not the slightest bit interested. Not the slightest. Some floozy no doubt, some little tart. What concern is that of mine? In fact, even if you did try to tell me who the visitor was, I wouldn’t listen. Certainly not. I’d block my ears and make a sound like this.’

She sticks her fingers in her ears, and chants ‘Na na na na na!’

Angelica is angry.

‘Why didn’t you say he was about to go?’

She is pacing around her room, smoking furiously. Her face is pale and taut.

‘When was it anyway? Last night? Oh I knew it! I just knew it! I heard the door as he crept out. He tried to do it quietly of course, the coward, but he’s always been a clumsy oaf. And then I heard a car starting up, down towards the end of the street. I suppose he thought I wouldn’t know it was him if he parked right down there at the bottom, but I knew alright. I knew it was his car. I heard it pause at the turning and then move off again. And then afterwards I heard the silence. No thoughts down there any more from beneath my floor. No mumbling and muttering and thumping about. Just silence once again.’

She glares at me.

‘Don’t smirk at me in that knowing way, David. You look just like your mother. I heard all of that, all of it, whether you believe me or not. But you hadn’t told me, had you? You’d let me down yet again . You’d absolutely promised you’d tell me, and yet you said nothing. And so naturally I doubted myself.’

She turns and hurries through to the little kitchen at the back of the flat, running, almost, in her eagerness. Pulling back the curtain, she presses her face against the window to peer down at the tiny back yard, with its empty washing line and its concrete slabs and its five metal dustbins in a row, with the flat numbers marked in yellow paint: 27 A, 27 B, 27 C, 27 D, 27 E.

She turns back into the room.

‘All night I listened to the car. I heard it going through the streets, and then up the motorway. Birmingham, the North, Scotland, up and up and up. All those lonely places in the night. All those cold orange lights shining down… I knew he’d gone but you hadn’t told me so I thought perhaps I was going mad. You – should–-have – told – me! ’

‘He had to leave earlier than he thought. He’ll probably be back again next year, but—’

‘It’s entirely up to him, David. Why should I care? What difference does it make to me?’