Nicholas Royle - First Novel

I got a bag from the cellar and packed it with a small number of items. I walked out of the house and placed the bag in the boot of the car. I returned to the house and walked up the stairs to my study. I sat at the desk and looked at the mannequins — the woman and the two children. I got up close to each one and stared into their glass eyes. They looked real.

I looked at my books, my eye drawn by the repetition, numerous copies of the same book. The same title over and over again. The same author’s name. The same colophon.

I got up and left the room. I went downstairs. I stood in the kitchen staring out of the back window. After an indeterminate length of time I left the kitchen and walked through the hall. I closed the front door behind me and double-locked it. I got into the car and started the engine. I drove around the block. I parked again and switched off the engine. I started it again and drove to the nursery, where I said I had come to pick up the twins. We were going somewhere, I explained. The staff were surprised, but released the children. They were my children, after all. I led them out of the building and to the car, which was double-parked. It was a narrow road with cars parked on both sides and there was no way past my car. Three cars sat waiting. The driver of the first car was leaning on his horn. When he saw me he started to gesticulate. He wound his window down and shouted at me. It was just noise. I strapped Jonathan into his seat, then took Laura’s hand and led her around the back of the car to get to the other side. I told the driver of the car behind to shut the fuck up. He got out of his car. I took no notice of him, even when he came very close to me and continued to shout abuse at me. I just made sure that I kept my body between him and Laura. I lifted Laura into her seat and fixed the straps. I closed the car door, aware of the man’s breath in my face. He wouldn’t stop shouting. I told him again to shut the fuck up and I felt a sudden buzzing in my ear and I fell against the car. My ear started to throb. I realised I had been hit. I opened the driver’s door and collapsed into my seat. I managed to pull the door shut and lock it, despite the man’s efforts to stop me. He stood alongside the car, his arms tensile bows, fists clenched, white knuckles. His body seemed to vibrate with fury and barely controlled energy. I looked away from him and felt a powerful thud against the door where he had kicked the car. I twisted the key in the ignition and pressed the accelerator to the floor, vaguely aware of another insistent noise just below the screaming of the engine. Because the man had to run to get back in his car, I reached the junction before he was able to catch up with me and there was no way out into the traffic for him to be less than several cars behind me. I tried to change out of first gear, thinking that the noise I could hear was the sound of the engine racing, but I wasn’t in first gear and the noise I could hear was the children crying. I checked the rear-view mirror, but there was no sign of the man’s car. I overtook a bus and negotiated a roundabout and headed out of London.

The children eventually cried themselves to sleep and didn’t wake until I pulled into a service station on the M1, parked up and switched off the engine.

I turned to face them as they stretched and slowly came round.

‘Daddy, why have you got a bleed?’ asked Laura.

‘Where?’ My jaw ached as I spoke.

‘On your face. You’ve got a bleed on your face.’

I turned to look in the rear-view mirror and saw that I had a cut above my cheekbone where the man’s fist had struck me.

‘It’s nothing,’ I said.

I took the twins with me into the services and bought sandwiches and crisps and drinks.

‘Where are we going?’ Jonathan asked once I had strapped them both in again.

‘For a drive,’ I said.

I started the engine and looked for the way out of the car park.

Jonathan asked a couple more times where we were going, but I just kept driving. I checked my watch. It was a little after half past eleven. I pictured the courtroom. The looks of worry, my lawyer’s drooping shoulders. I pictured our empty house, a ringing phone. I took the exit for the M6. All the choices I was making seemed preprogrammed. They had nothing to do with me. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Jonathan had gone back to sleep and Laura had her head turned to one side and was gazing out of the window. I didn’t know where I was going. I was just driving. I knew what was in the boot, but I wasn’t thinking about it. I read the road signs, noticing how the distance to Manchester kept decreasing. Each time I read the name, I sensed a certain lightness on the horizon, which seemed incongruous. I left the motorway at the next junction. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to drive and drive and never stop.

I drove automatically. I turned the wheel when I had to. I obeyed the rules of the road. In terms of where I was going, I simply headed away from everything. The light changed, became softer, yellower. The children made occasional noises, but slept most of the time, lulled by the motion of the car. I pulled off the road, into a field, parked in the lee of a high hedge, switched off the engine. I sat for a moment, hearing a gentle shifting behind me. I checked the mirror. Laura was moving about in her seat; Jonathan was rubbing his face with his fist.

I opened my door and got out. I stretched. I opened the rear door and leaned in. I kissed Laura on the forehead and squeezed into the space between the front and back seats so that I could reach Jonathan also. I kissed him on the cheek and noticed the little round scar at the corner of his eye. I caught a whiff of washing powder or fabric conditioner. I pulled back and exited the car.

I went to the boot and opened it. I took out the black bag and removed from it a coiled length of hosepipe. I put the bag back in the boot and closed it. There was a noise coming from somewhere, but I didn’t know what it was. I got down on my hands and knees to affix one end of the hosepipe to the exhaust. This was difficult to achieve but after two attempts I got it in place. I wiped my hands on the grass and dried them on my jeans. I uncoiled the hosepipe and walked around the side of the car. I placed the pipe on the ground and it immediately started to recoil itself. I opened the rear door on Laura’s side and wound down the window a short distance. I picked up the hosepipe and threaded it through the gap, then wound up the window enough to trap the hosepipe without squeezing it too hard. I was still aware of a noise coming from somewhere. I didn’t know what it was. I ignored it. I closed the door and got back into the car. I reached round the back of the driver’s seat and picked up Laura’s coat from the floor. I got out of the car again and stuffed the coat into the gap at the top of the window. I used one of the arms to plug the last bit of the gap, noticing a stain where Laura had spilt something on it. I got back into the car and closed the door. Jonathan was crying and trying to get out of his seat. Laura was watching him. I turned the key in the ignition. Laura was asking questions. I couldn’t tell what she was saying. I climbed into the back of the car and squeezed into the space between their two seats. I told the children it was going to be all right. Jonathan’s crying got so bad he coughed and kept coughing and I thought he was going to choke. But he was OK. Laura was still asking questions and I was still unable to process the sound of her voice. I could no longer hear the other noise that I had heard outside. I could now hear the chugging of the car’s engine. I looked through the gap at the dashboard and saw that there was plenty of petrol in the tank. Now that Jonathan was calmer I undid his seat belt and he moved free of the straps. I leaned forward and around the driver’s seat to engage the central locking. I undid Laura’s seat belt and encouraged both children to sit in my lap. Laura kept talking and Jonathan was saying something as well. I hugged them both, pulling them into my body. It’s going to be all right , I told them. It’s going to be all right .