Mark Haddon - The Red House

I guessed .

Where did she start? She kissed Melissa .

I know , said Dominic.

What do you mean, you know?

I talked to Melissa .

You discussed this with Melissa?

Talked, not discussed. Daisy wouldn’t say what was wrong, so I asked Melissa .

When?

Today, this morning .

Dominic and Daisy and their charmed circle. When were you going to tell me?

I don’t think she wanted anyone to know .

Of course she didn’t want anyone to know, because those bloody people have convinced her she’ll go to hell . Was this what they thought at the church? She wasn’t entirely sure. And you were just going to leave her feeling shit about herself? Why were they doing this? Their daughter was suffering and they were using it as an excuse to rehash arguments that had been going nowhere for years.

What did you say to her? asked Dominic. Just now?

I said I loved her. I said what any halfway sane parents would say . She paused and rubbed her face and took a long deep breath. Please, let’s not do this . Dominic was staring at his feet, hands in pockets. Shamefaced? Or just biting his tongue? I mentioned the church, OK? Because I always do . She held her hands up in surrender. The clatter of a chair being knocked over in the dining room. She says she’s not gay. She says it was an accident . The fire blazed in its dirty window. Will you talk to her? Because she won’t listen to me and if she thinks she’s a bad person because of that place …

I’ll talk to her . But what if they were wrong? What if loving God was easier than loving other human beings? Was an easy life such a bad thing to want? Later on, maybe. When things have calmed down a little .

She looked into the flames. It was meant to be relaxing, warmth in the darkness, keeping the wolves away, but the heat-proof glass made her think of some infernal substance caged at the reactor’s core, a little fiend on a treadmill. Those photographs, her hunger to see them is so strong. She is reading a magazine or watching a film sometimes, she sees someone and wonders for an instant if it’s him. Big men, strong men, flawed but honourable, men you can rely on when the chips are down, this righteous anger they keep to hand, like a holstered weapon, ready to use as a last resort. The opposite of Dominic. All those presumptions you carry with you your whole life, about what a family should be. What a husband should be. What a father should be.

♦

Louisa wrestled the door open and they spilt clumsily into the hallway dragging several coats to the floor and tearing one of the pegs from the wall. Oh my God. Richard?

I’m OK . He sounded drunk.

She threw her arms around him but Alex gently peeled her away. Downstairs bathroom. Take his other arm . Mum and Dad were sitting in the living room doing absolutely bugger all. Jesus. Richard. You’ve got to help us .

I should call an ambulance .

He’ll be OK. We just need to warm him up . Would he, though? Alex wasn’t sure. But an ambulance wouldn’t get here for, what? an hour on these roads? Whoa . Richard stumbled sideways again, Alex just managing to keep him upright this time. Get the bath running . Louisa ran ahead through the kitchen. Relief and panic, about what might have happened, about what might still happen. Almost there . He manoeuvred Richard through the kitchen. Up ahead he heard the twist and thunder of the hot tap. An image of Callum rocking back and forth on the pavement weeping, the broken end of the shin bone pushing up under the skin. Across the utility room, Richard unstable on the bumpy stone floor, like a child or an old man, the onion smell of his sweat. They negotiated the chicane of the bathroom door, into the steamy air, Louisa’s hands literally flapping. How were they going do this? He lowered Richard onto the toilet seat, put a hand behind his neck and removed the hat and the yellow jacket. Shoes . Louisa yanked them off. No way he was going to be able to remove Richard’s other clothes but it didn’t matter. This would not be elegant. He heaved Richard on to his feet, sat him on the edge of the bath then stepped in behind him, muddy trainers turning the water brown. He pulled Richard backwards and let him slip arse-down into the water, legs flopping in after, spraying brown water up the wall and all over Louisa’s shirt. Result. Alex stepped out and tentatively let go. Richard held himself upright. Go and get a hot drink. I’ll stay here . Louisa stepped out of the bathroom. The hot water continued to rise.

Richard is frightened, endorphins spent way back, cold at the base of his spine, in his pelvis, under his ribs. His teeth are still chattering. Alex says something but Richard is not sure what. He has an abscess, he needs to tell someone this before they put him under. Come away, fellow sailors, your anchors be weighing . His father stands in the doorway, arms crossed, that surly expression, letting the tension mount. Richard wonders if he is going be picked up and slapped across the legs. The smell of cigarette smoke and Old Spice. God, this hot water stung.

The ping of the microwave and the clicky slam of the plastic door and Louisa reappeared with what looked like a mug of warm milk. Made Alex think of waking up in the night when he was a child. He can smell honey, Louisa doing her folded napkins and hospital corners even now. She kneels and offers it to Richard. He takes it in his hands, which is a good sign, though he clearly can’t move his fingers independently. Christ, what a strange picture. Richard in his clothes in a bath of oxtail soup, Louisa leaning over in a flowery shirt, muddy footprints over the white fluffy mat, like some grubby dogskin carpet. He sees the bloody graze on Richard’s hand and looks down at his own scabbing knuckles. Louisa takes the mug and puts it down on the corner of the bath and starts to remove Richard’s running vest. The bath almost full now. It feels uncomfortably intimate, watching her do this, the hair on Richard’s chest, pudgy man breasts, the sheer bulk of him, pathetic and threatening at the same time. Alex feels he should leave but he can’t. He imagines Louisa on top of Richard, naked. Is it stupid not to ring an ambulance? He turns and sees Mum and Dad in the doorway. Louisa is oblivious but Angela says, quietly, How is he? Alex simply shrugs to punish them for being so fucking useless.

Can we do anything ?

Food , says Alex. He remembers an episode of Born Survivor. Have we got any chocolate? Something soft and sugary . Though his intention mostly is to get them out of the bathroom, because he has earned his place here in the centre of the drama and they haven’t.

I’m on it , says Dominic.

♦

It never occurred to Melissa that Richard might be in any kind of danger, he being the person who sorted out other people in danger, but when she came downstairs to make herself a mug of coffee she found Dominic heating a tin of soup and Angela said, He’s in the bath , and Melissa wondered who the hell she was talking about.

Alex brought him back , said Dominic.

He’s going to all right , said Angela.

We hope .

And then it dawned on her, but Alex had appeared in the doorway, sopping wet, still wearing his trainers. We’re out of the woods, I think . He went to the bread bin and cut himself a two-inch doorstep. I need a shower. Melissa, can you go and grab some warm clothes for Richard?

She bridled but now was clearly not the time. Sure . Sweetness and light. She turned and headed back into the dining room.