Mark Haddon - A Spot Of Bother

“No apology needed.”

The nurse held the old dressing up. It looked like a large conker that had been soaked in blood and lemon curd. She dropped it into the little swing bin by the side of the bed. “Let’s get you a clean one.”

George lay back and closed his eyes.

He rather liked the pain now that he had got used to it. He knew what it was going to be like and how long it was going to last. And as it ebbed away his head felt unnaturally clear for five or ten minutes, as if his brain had been hosed clean.

From a nearby room he heard someone say, “Scoliosis of the spine.”

He was relieved about the wedding. It was sad for Katie. Or perhaps it was a relief for her, too. They had not been able to talk much during her visit. And to be honest they rarely talked about that kind of thing. Though Ray did seem a little strange at the hospital, which only served to confirm his uneasiness about the relationship.

Either way George was glad that the house was not going to be invaded by a marquee full of strangers. He was still feeling a little too fragile to relish the prospect of standing up and speechifying.

Jean seemed rather relieved, too.

Poor Jean. He really had put her through the wringer. She had not seemed like her usual self over the past few days. She was clearly still worried about him. Seeing that carpet every day probably did not help.

But he was out of the bedroom, they were having conversations, and he was able to do a few chores round the house. When he was a little fitter he would take her out for dinner. He had heard good reports about that new restaurant in Oundle. Excellent fish, apparently.

“There,” said Samantha, “that’s you done.”

“Thank you,” said George.

“Come on, let’s sit you up.”

He would buy Jean some flowers on the way home, something he had not done in a very long time. That would cheer her up.

Then he would ring the carpet fitters.

Jamie was waitingfor a prospective buyer in the Prince’s Avenue flat, the one where he’d met Tony for the first time.

The owners were moving to Kuala Lumpur. They were tidy and childless, thank goodness. No abstract expressionistic ballpoint pen on the skirting boards, no scree of toys on the dining-room floor (Shona was showing a couple round the Finchley four-bed when the woman twisted her ankle on a Power Ranger Dino Thunder Bike). Worked in the city and hardly touched the place from what he could see. You could have licked the cooker. IKEA furniture. Bland prints in brushed steel frames. Soulless but salable.

He walked into the kitchen, touched the paintwork with the tips of his fingers and remembered watching Tony with a brush in his hand, before they’d even talked, when he was still a beautiful stranger.

Jamie could see now, with absolute clarity, what he’d done.

He’d bided his time. He’d got away. He’d built a little world in which he felt safe. And it was orbiting far out, unconnected to anyone. It was cold and it was dark and he had no idea how to make it swing back toward the sun.

There’d been a moment, in Peterborough, shortly after Katie punched him, when he realized that he needed these people. Katie, Mum, Dad, Jacob. They drove him up the wall sometimes. But they’d been with him all the way. They were a part of him.

Now he’d lost Tony and he was drifting. He needed a place he could go when he was in trouble. He needed someone he could call in the small hours.

He’d fucked it up. Those horrible scenes in the dining room. His mother saying, “You know nothing.” She was right. They were strangers. He’d made them into strangers. Deliberately. What right did he have to tell them how they should run their lives? He had made damn sure they had no right to tell him how he should run his.

The bell rang.

Shit.

He took a deep breath, counted to ten, put his selling brain in and answered the door to a man with a very obvious toupee.

Katie had just finishedthe washing up.

Jacob was in bed. And Ray was sitting at the kitchen table putting new batteries into the cordless phone. She turned round and leant against the sink, drying her hands on a tea towel.

Ray clicked the back of the phone into place. “We have to do something.”

She said, “I know,” and it felt good, finally, to talk about the subject instead of sniping about nursery runs and the lack of tea bags.

Ray said, “I don’t mind how we work this out.” He tilted his chair backward and slotted the phone into its cradle. “Just so long as it doesn’t involve going anywhere near your family.”

For a fraction of a second she wondered whether she ought to be offended. But she couldn’t because Ray was right, their behavior had been abysmal. Then it struck her as actually quite funny and she realized she was laughing. “I’m so sorry about putting you through all of that.”

“It was…educational,” said Ray.

She couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was amused or not so she stopped laughing.

“Told your dad he seemed like the sanest person in the whole family.” Ray stood one of the old batteries on its end. “Put the wind up him a bit.” He stood the other battery on its end next to the first. “I hope he’s OK.”

“Fingers crossed.”

“Jamie’s a decent bloke,” said Ray.

“Yeh.”

“We had a good talk. In the garden.”

“About?” asked Katie.

“Me and you. Him and Tony.”

“Uh-huh.” It seemed a bit risky to ask for details.

“I always thought, you know, being gay, he would be weirder.”

“Probably best not to say that to Jamie.”

Ray looked up at her. “I might be stupid. But I’m not that stupid.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Come here, you,” said Ray. He pushed his chair back.

She went and sat on his lap and he put his arms round her and that was it. Like the world flipping inside out.

This was where she was meant to be.

She could feel every muscle in her body relaxing. She touched his face. “I’ve been so horrible to you.”

“You’ve been appalling,” said Ray. “But I still love you.”

“Just hold me.”

He pulled her close and she buried her face in his shoulder and cried.

“It’s OK,” said Ray, rubbing her back gently. “It’s OK.”

How had she been so blind? He’d seen her family at their worst and taken it all with good grace. Even with the wedding canceled.

But he hadn’t changed. He was the same person he’d been all along. The kindest, most dependable, most honorable person in her life.

This was her family. Ray and Jacob.

She felt stupid and relieved and guilty and happy and sad and slightly wobbly on account of feeling so many things at the same time. “I love you.”

“It’s all right,” said Ray. “You don’t have to say it.”

“No. I mean it. I really do.”

“Let’s not say anything for a bit, OK? It gets too complicated when we argue.”

“I’m not arguing,” said Katie.

He lifted her head and put a finger on her lips to stop her speaking and kissed her. It was the first time they had kissed properly in weeks.

He led her upstairs and they made love until Jacob had a nightmare about an angry blue dog and they had to stop rather quickly.

When Jamie got homefrom work he rang Tony. No answer. He rang Tony’s mobile and left a message asking him to ring back.

He cleaned the kitchen and ate supper in front of a film about a giant alligator in a lake in Maine. Tony didn’t ring back.

He rang Tony’s flat early the following morning. No answer. He rang Tony’s mobile at lunchtime and left another message, keeping it as simple and straightforward as possible.