Chris Cleave - Incendiary

—Tell her to try a teaspoon of cider vinegar after meals.

—Alright, said Jasper.

—And tell her it helps to go for a walk in the evenings before bed.

—I will, he said.

—And tell her to. Tell her to. Oh bollocks to it I’ll come over and tell her myself.

Jasper grinned and I stood up from the table and went into the bedroom and took off my dressing gown and put on my grey trackie bottoms and a grey Nike T-shirt. I mean maybe Petra was right maybe Helmut Lang had moved on but we never saw much of him down Barnet Grove anyway.

When we were leaving the flat I shouted at my boy to be good and I slammed the front door behind us. Jasper gave me a look.

Over at Jasper and Petra’s place they were having the same power cut we were having in the Wellington Estate I mean you can talk as posh as you like it doesn’t bother electricity. Petra was sitting on the floor in front of their sofa and she looked the way you’d love us all to look Osama. Black-eyed. Hollow. Knackered.

I knelt down and I put my hand on her tummy like you do even though there wasn’t anything to feel yet. I closed my eyes and I did try so hard to feel happy for her. I mean you’re meant to feel pleased aren’t you? You’re supposed to pretend those babies are coming into a world where no one’s trying to burn them. That’s the trick that lets you be pleased they’re going to be born. That’s the trick that lets you stop worrying and start knitting tiny boots isn’t it?

Well I tried ever so hard but it wasn’t any good I just couldn’t do that trick any more. With my eyes closed I saw the unborn life in Petra’s tummy. I felt like you knew its name before it was even born Osama. The child was doomed it floated there very lonely in the dark. It didn’t know London yet but you could tell it was already nervous. It heard its mum’s heart beating and each beat made it flinch like a nail bomb going off in the distance. Its little fists were closed tight and the umbilical cord was pumping it full of petrol. It was an incendiary child and when it dreamed it dreamed of sparks. I saw its face and it was my dead boy’s face. It spoke with my dead boy’s voice. Mummy it said. Mummy they knew. MUMMY THEY KNEW. I stood up very quick and went over to the end of the sofa and looked down at the floor till I got my head together.

—How you feeling?

—Awful, said Petra. I’m just so bloody tired all the time.

—Yeah well you better get used to it. When your baby’s a toddler you’ll think these were the good old days.

—Oh thanks, said Petra. Very encouraging.

—Sorry. Don’t listen to me. Honestly. It’s all worth it.

Petra just sat there and stared at me. It went on too long I didn’t know what to do with myself.

—Listen is there anything I can do to help?

—Yes, said Petra. You can get us some hard evidence that the authorities knew about May Day before it happened.

I looked at her.

—Actually what I meant was I’ve got a book on pregnancy if you want and lots of maternity clothes I don’t know if they’d be your style but they’re all clean and folded and then for when the baby comes I can give you all the bottles and sterilisers and that sort of thing I mean it’s all up in the flat in boxes you’re welcome to it.

—An audio tape would do, said Petra. But a video would be better. Get your little policeman to confess to you again. It has to be something we can show as evidence.

Jasper stepped right up to Petra and yanked her up to her feet and talked right into her face.

—Petra, he said. Bloody well stop it. We discussed this and you promised not to do it like this. I’d never have got her over if I’d known you were going to do this.

—Ha, said Petra. If you were the kind of father who did a little less coke and a little more investigative journalism then maybe I wouldn’t have to do this.

—That’s not fair, said Jasper.

—Fuck fair, said Petra.

She turned to me. I was leaning hard on the arm of the sofa. My brain felt like the icing on those buns all soft and pink from the booze and the pills.

—Jasper and I have had a little talk, said Petra. We think it might be best if I took the story to the paper. After all Jasper’s a bit low on credibility right now. I want you to help me do the story.

—Why?

Petra shrugged.

—Because Jasper’s too craven to do it. Because they’ll promote me if I do it.

—I don’t mean why do you want to do the story I mean why should I help you?

Petra didn’t stop for a second.

—Because I’ll pay you, she said. Or rather the paper will. For your collaboration. It could change your life. It could be as much as 50K.

—Nah.

—100K even.

—Petra. Listen. You’re pregnant. It’s always a shock. Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll pretend this never happened?

—Oh come on, said Petra. Don’t tell me a woman in your position can turn down that kind of money.

—Listen Petra a woman in my position could wallpaper her flat with money it wouldn’t make a difference. It’s all just pictures of the queen to me. Without my boy to spend it on that’s all your precious money is Petra. Crappy little pictures of the queen.

I turned to go but Jasper took hold of my arm very gentle.

—Then you should do it for yourself, he said.

—You what?

Jasper put his mouth close to my ear and spoke very soft.

—You still see your boy don’t you? he said.

I looked at him I shook my head I made these big eyes that said WHO? ME? I mean I was in a state Osama I’ll give you that but I wasn’t mad enough to forget they lock you up when you start seeing people they can’t.

—It’s alright, said Jasper. I understand. I see things too since May Day. It’s normal. It’s called post-traumatic shock.

I shook my head again I was terrified. I whispered back to Jasper.

—Nah. I’m fine honestly don’t worry about me I’m right as rain.

—In your kitchen just now, said Jasper. I saw the way your eyes flicked over into the corner of the room while we talked. And then when we left you actually told him to be good.

—What are you saying to her? said Petra.

—You be quiet please Petra, said Jasper.

He leaned closer to my ear.

—You’re going to keep on having these troubles, he said. Until you do something to lay the boy to rest.

—I can’t lay him to rest I don’t have his body there’s just his teeth and I’m not going to bury his little teeth am I? I mean there isn’t a grave small enough.

—So do this thing Petra’s asking you for, said Jasper. But don’t do it for her. Do it for you. It’ll help.

—Why?

—Because you need to get the truth out, said Jasper. Because if you keep it inside it’s going to finish you off. I mean look at yourself.

I looked back at Jasper staring into my eyes very close and I looked at Petra watching me over his shoulder and I looked at my boy lying on his tummy trying to fish an ashtray or something out from under their coffee table. I didn’t know what to think I was holding on to my head with both hands to stop it falling apart. I stepped back from Jasper I went to the corner of the room farthest from them both.

—I don’t know. I don’t effing well know do I? Why doesn’t this thing ever just stop? Why won’t you two ever leave me in peace?

—Because you know you have to do this, said Jasper. It’s vital for you and it’s vital for the country.

—Oh you care about the country suddenly do you?

Jasper shrugged.

—I’m going to be a father, he said. It changes everything. I don’t want my child to live in a place where politicians decide who dies.

I shook my head.

—I don’t know. I don’t know. What about Terence Butcher?