Mark Haddon - The Red House

In what way?

He’s getting it from all sides. Me giving him a hard time for not looking after Mum… She drank some of her wine.

Louisa wasn’t laughing. He’s facing an inquiry at work .

Dominic mentioned something .

This girl ended up in a wheelchair after an operation went wrong. Richard X-rayed her. The CEO sent her a less-than-fulsome letter of apology, the family have taken it to a solicitor and now the surgeon’s passing the buck and trying to dump him in the shit .

What might happen to him if he’s found guilty?

He’s hoping it never comes to court , said Louisa. But in the last couple of days…People make mistakes, every day, even honest people .

Angela found herself wanting to defend Richard despite knowing none of the details, blood trumping everything. She thought carefully about where to position her sympathy. I hope it works out OK. For both of you . Her hands were slippery so she handed the sun-dried tomatoes to Louisa who twisted the jar open with a satisfying pop. They were silent for several minutes. She had a genetic deformity. Karen. She wouldn’t…The foetus wasn’t viable. I have this photo album in my head. The life she never had. I can see the pictures so clearly .

That chilly subterranean hum. And tomorrow…?

I’m frightened . She turned the heat down.

What of?

That I might turn a corner and see her standing there . Melissa’s voice a couple of rooms away, briefly audible above the Handel. Or the opposite. That she’ll disappear completely. You know. Eighteen. Leaving home and so on. And I don’t know which is worse . A longer silence.

Well, that’s cheered us both up .

It has actually , said Angela. The gentlest bubbling now. She put the lid on the pot, leaving a gap so that it didn’t boil over. I don’t talk about it much. Which is not good, perhaps . But cheered up wasn’t the right phrase. She felt… engaged . Talking to Louisa, finally something to grip in this great sliding nothing of this forced leisure.

Louisa got up and walked over and laid her hand on Angela’s shoulder and left it there for three or four seconds. A low-rent laying on of hands. I’ll go and warn the troops. Twenty minutes, right?

♦

Alex had no real interest in the arts. He liked some music, a few paintings and the occasional poem, but it all came down to taste, and taste seemed like a pretty pointless thing to teach at school. Languages were important, but you could move to Italy or Poland and be halfway fluent in a couple of months. As for maths and science, he always imagined that if he needed these skills later in life he would hire someone who had them. But history…It had been sheer pleasure at first, plastic knights and horses giving way to Airfix models of Avro Lancasters giving way to TV documentaries about Galileo and Hadrian’s Wall. Something murder mystery about it, answers you could dig out if you knew where to look, lost in attics, buried in fields, Roman roads across a map, obscene carvings under pews. He had a Penguin Atlas of Early European History that he loved. The ebb and flow of Celts and Saxons and Vikings. Something solid with something fluid moving over it, which seemed like a good model for pretty much everything, stuff you could rely on interacting with stuff you couldn’t. Facts and opinions. Feelings and thoughts. Because he still didn’t really understand that this was only one way of looking at the world, and that there were people who looked around and saw no fixed landscape whatsoever, only an ebb and flow over which they had no control.

♦

Dominic put the bowl of risotto on the chair and sat on the edge of Daisy’s bed. She was still wearing her jeans. Pink mud on the blanket. Her eyes were damp and sore. I told everyone you were ill .

Thanks .

But you’re not ill, are you?

Dad…

What’s wrong?

Daisy closed her eyes.

If there’s anything I can do…

There’s nothing you can do .

I’m worried about you .

She mustn’t lie. That was how she’d got into trouble in the first place. I did something bad .

I can’t imagine you doing something bad . It was true. Are we talking bad in the eyes of the church?

Please…

Has this got something to do with Melissa?

Something about the way she curled up tighter, trying to move further away from him. It has, hasn’t it?

Real fear now. Don’t say anything to her. You have to promise me . She could ask this favour, couldn’t she, because it wasn’t being selfish. It was protecting others.

If Melissa has hurt you in any way…

It’s not her fault. Please, Dad, you have to promise me .

He wanted to lift her up and hug her like he did when she was tiny. He put his hand under her face and she rested the weight of her head on his palm. I would never do anything to hurt you. You understand that, don’t you? Because he couldn’t make the promise, because if Melissa had hurt Daisy he wouldn’t let her leave this house unpunished. Have some food, OK?

I’ll try . The thought of eating made her feel sick.

I’ll bring you a cup of tea later on .

♦

Richard raised his glass at one end of the table and caught the attention of Angela sitting at the other end. A superlative risotto .

You’re welcome . She turned to Dominic. I should go up and see Daisy .

She’s all right. She just wants to be on her own .

I thought you said she was ill .

This was a ridiculous game. She asked me to say she was ill. She’s feeling really upset about something .

About what?

I honestly don’t know .

I’ll go up and see her after supper , said Angela.

Angela…

So, we’re going to leave her up there on her own?

No .

She’s my daughter .

Melissa glanced over at Mum and Richard. They looked as if they were in different rooms. Richard had found out, hadn’t he? She just knew. Still that child’s shameless radar for the weak point. Blood in the water. She wondered how it would pan out.

Do you believe in reincarnation? asked Benjy.

Course not , said Alex. I mean, can you remember who you were last time round?

It was the wrong answer. He needed Alex to say, Yes, yes, of course I believe in reincarnation . Because Benjy wanted to come back as a panda or a gorilla, but he would agree to come back as anything if he could only be assured that he was coming back. He didn’t want to think about what had happened to the shrew, what had happened for Granny, so he stopped listening to what Alex was saying and wrote his name using risotto to stop himself crying.

Melissa brought in the two plates on which the treacle pudding bowls sat upturned. She placed them in the middle of the table and removed the bowls like a conjurer revealing rabbits.

Skinny jeans, for example , Louisa said to Alex. I just don’t get it. There, you see? That’s the middle-aged frump talking .

But I think you look really sexy , said Alex.

She looked at him, assessing whether this was just politeness.

Was Louisa doing it to spite him? Richard wondered. He forced himself to turn to Angela so that he did not have to watch the spectacle. I have an apology to make .

For what? said Angela.