Mark Haddon - The Red House

Shit shit shit .

She rocks him gently. She remembers how this used to feel, how it still feels. Nothing you can do, just wait for the time to pass. The Armour of Christ. She’s not angry now, nor as confident, just exhausted, mostly. Thinking and feeling too many things in too short a time.

But Benjy is crying not just about the wound on his arm, he is also crying about the woman who is being mean to Dad. He doesn’t like to see adults suffering. He still believes that when he reaches the age of twenty-one he will no longer be sad, he will no longer be afraid, he will no longer be bullied. It is a hard clear star he can fix his quadrant on. But if that woman at work can bully Dad…

My turn , says Daisy.

Benjy dries his eyes and rolls away so that she can stand up. She finds a little pillow of grass. Forehead down, hands planted. A little push and her legs rise into the blue. Like diving into the earth. Absolutely vertical. The tiniest splash and little waves of earth spreading away from the spot where you vanished into the dark. Limestone, granite, basalt.

Mum bought a weird doll , says Benjy.

What kind of weird? She wondered how long you’d have to stay like this before it started feeling normal, till it looked right.

She said it was for someone, then she said it was for her .

Daisy thought about the baby who died, those scary thoughts you got sometimes. What if I were someone else? What if I never reached the world? It’s something for school . Just to reassure him. A project . Though God alone knows what Mum was up to.

That’s all right, then .

Yeh, that’s all right .

Can we go back now?

Of course . A few more precious seconds then she gave in to gravity.

♦

Say it began with shadows, that it was shadows always. The sun above us, below us a dark figure that is ourselves and not ourselves. Look how it follows me, see how we dance in time. Narcissus, all of us, right from the beginning. Trace your hand on the rock wall of this cave, using flint, using charcoal. Now the ghost of you will live on after you have gone. Draw lines in the dirt. This is the wolf and that is the river. There are the hills and the men who live beyond them. This is how we can trap the wolf. This is how we can kill the men. Imagined futures breeding and branching. We are, I know not why, double within ourselves . So many different things to want and fear. Ghosts fighting for possession of a body.

Gather round the fire , says the old man. Once upon a time… And suddenly we are transported to a world that seems both strange and familiar. Angels and demons, wolves and shadows, the men who live beyond the hills.

♦

The salmon wasn’t going to fit into a single baking tray, was it? Louisa should have thought of that in the shop. She would have to rearrange it after baking, cut-and-shut, like a crashed car. She placed the jar of honey and the jar of olives on opposite corners of the cookbook to hold it open. Foil, peppercorns, mustard. Open the fridge. Sour cream, dill. Amazing you could get it here. She looked out of the window and saw Benjy and Daisy returning from a walk. It had happened this week, hadn’t it, Daisy realising? Suddenly it was obvious, now that she thought about it. The way she held herself, some tension gone. Memories of that ghastly funeral, the way she sang the hymns, trying so hard to put her heart into something. She hadn’t told her parents, had she? Or perhaps she’d told them and it had gone down badly. Angela’s weird behaviour, perhaps it had nothing to do with the baby dying, or not that kind of baby dying.

She should have had two children. Or three. Or four. Melissa would have been a different person, surely. Sixteen years of ruling the roost, it couldn’t be good for anyone. Forty-four. She wasn’t old, was she? She could still have a child, with Richard. Was that an absurd thought?

♦

Richard sat down on the bench and handed Melissa a mug of tea. That ridiculous cane. Like someone’s grandad. She took the tea only because it would have seemed childish to refuse. He let the silence run for ten seconds. You want to be successful, you want to be rich, you want to have a good job .

And…? She didn’t need any more of this stuff, not today.

You can offend some people. In fact, you have to offend some people if you’re going to get things done . He should have talked to her like this a long time ago. He should have done many things a long time ago. But you have to admit when you’re wrong .

I haven’t done anything wrong . He refused to answer. She told you, didn’t she? Thanks, Mum .

People are scared of you, Melissa. That’s how you get them to do things. And you can do that at school but it doesn’t work in the long run. You have to learn how to make people like you .

It caught her off guard. She was waiting for a lecture about knuckling down and toeing the line, but she was holding her shield in the wrong place and he had slipped a blade in under her ribs, because the shameful truth was that she wanted to be like him. The salary, the respect, the achievement.

A little column of midges rose and fell in the centre of the lawn as if contained in a big glass tube.

Richard rubbed his face. You have to find something you really care about, then everything else falls into place. But I’m not sure you’ve found anything you really care about .

I care about …But what did she care about? Out of nowhere she was crying. Sailing boats and women blowing glass. She would never be an artist, she would never love someone, she would never be loved.

Melissa…?

But she was standing up and running towards the house, her spilt tea dripping through the slats in the bench.

♦

Daisy was passing through the kitchen when Louisa held out a glass of wine in a way that clearly meant, You’re staying .

So Daisy clinked the glass against the chunky handle of the big knife Louisa was holding. What happened in there, by the way?

Washing machine . Louisa swept the carrot peelings into the bin. Alex fixed it. Your dad mopped the floor .

Sounds about right .

I’m sorry Melissa was horrible to you .

So, everybody knew.

I ought to come up with some sort of excuse, her being my daughter, but she can be an utter shit sometimes .

It was my fault, really .

Many boys have made the same mistake .

Daisy realised that they were talking about the kiss.

She should carry a government health warning, that girl . The kettle clicked off and Louisa poured the boiling water into the biggest pan.

Like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. And Louisa was on her side, Louisa of all people, Louisa who picked tiny pieces of fluff off Richard’s jumper. The jar of honey and the jar of olives.

It happened this week, didn’t it? Louisa slotted the kettle back on to its stand.

We went for a walk up Black Hill .

I didn’t mean that . Louisa dried her hands on the tea towel and looked at her. It’s like there was a big knot inside you. And someone’s untied it .

God, she stumbled through life failing to understand everyone. Louisa. Melissa. Jack. Lauren. Herself most of all. How did you know?

You’re a good daughter , said Louisa. I don’t think they’re proud enough . She halved the tea towel and hung it over the rail on the Aga. Now. What do you think? Shall we pull out the stops for the last night?

Good idea , said Daisy, because that was it, wasn’t it? Nothing more to be said, nothing more that needed to be said.