Nicola Barker - Behindlings

‘ Candid Camera, ’ Katherine said.

‘Yes. Yes, ’ he bounced back, ‘I think that’s right.’

‘It is right. I loved that programme.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur paused for a moment, confusedly –

Need to change tack, quick

‘Yes, well… I suppose he was an interesting figure. I was just looking through his… his autobiography. And apparently after he left university he took out an ad in the personal columns of The Times, advertising himself as a practical joker. He didn’t…’

As he spoke Arthur was focussing principally on Ted.

‘He didn’t feel like he was fit for much else… which, uh, I suppose says a lot about what people consider a top flight… uh… education… ’

Ted glanced up and caught his eye at this point, then rapidly looked down again, wincing, ‘But he had a novel way of looking at things and he… uh… ’

Arthur peeked over at Dewi. Averted his eyes –

Quick-smart

‘And people… people would…’ Arthur reached out his arm and pushed his plate towards the casserole pot, ‘people would actually pay him to play these… these practical jokes on… uh…’ Why does this feel so familiar?

He gazed up at Katherine, almost beseechingly. Katherine shrugged and delved into the pot.

‘But he always said that the… uh… the only reason to play a joke on someone — or a hoax or anything — was to create an atmosphere of bewilderment and men-men-mental confusion. It’s never a moral … uh… morality doesn’t… for the real practical joker morality doesn’t ever enter into the… uh… ’

Arthur glanced towards Dewi again, ‘But Wesley would say — and wrongly, in my opinion — because of his reading of pop-sociological works like those of, say, Alvin Toffler…’ he half-inclined his head, ‘I don’t know if you’re… you’re familiar with … uh… with…?’

Katherine snorted.

Dewi remained perfectly still, staring quietly at Katherine, saying nothing. Katherine pulled some burned skin off the top of the casserole (placed it onto Ted’s plate) then proceeded to delve inside again.

‘Well…’ Arthur was slightly discombobulated by this (his eyes flying from one person to the next). ‘Well, anyway, Toffler — did I say Toffler before?’

Ted nodded, still refusing eye contact.

‘Yes. Well, Toffler talks about how change is achieved by the combination of confusion or chaos and… uh… natural… natural disaster…’

Dewi suddenly turned his head and stared at Arthur, frowning (as if he’d only just noticed him again). ‘What kind of charity?’ he asked.

Arthur stared back at him blankly, then held out his hand, ‘I don’t think we were formally introduced before. I’m Arthur Young.’

Dewi ignored his hand.

‘What kind of charity?’ he repeated.

Arthur paused, withdrew his hand. Katherine filled the pause by pushing Arthur’s plate back towards him. ‘ I served you first,’ she whispered, ‘because we had such a first class fuck. ’

‘A… a… a children’s charity,’ Arthur swallowed, hard –

Was she insane?

— and took the plate. ‘Thanks. You were saying earlier that Dewi here was a talented carpenter, weren’t you, Katherine?’

She looked over at him, smiling, ‘Huh?’

‘You… you were saying that Dewi here was a brilliant carpenter, weren’t you?’

‘He is a carpenter,’ Katherine confirmed, pushing aside the burned stuff on Ted’s plate then ladling out some of the unburned, ‘but I don’t know when we’d’ve had time to discuss it…’ she frowned, ‘although I suppose we did squeeze in a couple of minutes’ small-talk directly before the second blow job.’

‘Not too much,’ Ted murmured, hoarsely.

‘And that’s just what I said when you showed me your sweet, little dick last October, eh, Ted?’

Silence

‘Because in the same book…’ Arthur began speaking again, ‘the same book I mentioned before… uh… Toffler says… I did cite Toffler, previously, didn’t I?’

Ted nodded.

‘Yes. Yes. Well Toffler said that it’s the people who live slower and more practical… uh… lives who will ultimately reap the benefits of… uh … of our accelerated… uh …’

What am I doing?

What am I saying?

Arthur scooped up a spoonful of food and pushed it into his mouth, chewed, swallowed.

‘That’s very good,’ he said, ‘in actual fact.’

‘ Children’s charity?’

Dewi had finally re-connected.

Arthur scooped up a second spoonful.

Dewi was staring at him again, pointedly, ‘You said a children’s charity?’

Ted pushed his spoon into his mouth and nodded, ‘Yes.’

He spoke through the casserole.

Katherine dished herself up a tiny portion and sat down. She removed a feather from the edge of her plate.

‘What kind of children’s charity?’ she asked, nonchalantly.

‘ Eh …?’ Arthur glanced up, ‘for… uh… for…’

‘Children,’ Katherine filled in. ‘I do believe we’ve all fully grasped that difficult concept.’

Arthur pulled himself straight. He pushed his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it. He closed it again. He un-poppered the back section, turned the wallet over and drew out a clutch of business cards and credit cards. Mixed up between them was a tiny photograph. He removed it; a little girl, about seven years old, thin, anxious-seeming, brown eyed, wearing a plain jumper and a matching pale blue alice-band to pull the loose wisps of brown hair away from her face.

Arthur pushed the picture over the table towards Dewi.

‘My… my…’ he said, stammering, swallowing. ‘She has a condition called Cystic Fibrosis. It means her body produces excessive amounts of… of…’ he cleared his throat, ‘of phlegm which tends to settle on her chest. She finds it difficult to…’ he filled his lungs, ‘to breathe.’

Dewi put out his hand and picked up the picture. He cradled it inside his huge hand, gently.

‘Some other… complications,’ Arthur continued, ‘I… I raise money to increase awareness of the condition in Britain. We… we’re saving for a h-h-h-heart and lung transplant. In America…’

‘What’s her name?’ Dewi asked.

Arthur started at this question. ‘Harmony,’ he stuttered. ‘She’s not a… a transplant priority over here because she has other… other problems. Which is…’

He scrabbled for the word.

‘Sad,’ Dewi said.

‘Wrong,’ Ted said.

‘Crap,’ Katherine said.

All at the same time.

Arthur nodded.

‘Yes.’

He smiled shakily.

Dewi suddenly stood up. ‘I have a bundle of cash from a job I did today. I want you to have it,’ he said. ‘Come over and get it. I live directly opposite.’

Arthur was shocked. He put down his spoon.

‘Right now? ’ he asked, glancing anxiously towards his computer, towards Katherine, his dinner plate, ‘this very minute?’

‘Why not?’

Dewi was already pulling at the door and walking through it.

‘ Uh… ’ Arthur stood up. ‘Fine,’ he said, looking towards Katherine again, hoping for reassurance — finding none — then Ted. Ted was biting his lip and pushing aside a piece of the burned stuff on his plate.

Arthur took a deep breath, pushed back his deckchair, turned and followed the Welshman — slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed — like a boy who’d just casually released his grip on the string of a balloon, and yet suddenly longed — once more — to feel the reassuring tug of it.