A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon [131]
He ran into the bathroom, his bowels loosening slightly all over again. He opened the cabinet. It was on the top shelf, behind the plasters and the interdental sticks.
He twisted the top, and kept on twisting and felt the panic coming back until he realized that it was childproof and had to be pressed down. He pressed it down and twisted and very nearly dropped it when he saw Ray in the mirror, standing behind him, only feet away, actually in the bathroom, saying, “George? Are you OK? I knocked, but you didn’t hear me.”
George came very close to swigging the entire contents of the bottle and swallowing hard in case Ray tried to stop him.
“George?” said Ray.
“What?”
“You all right?”
“Fine. Absolutely fine,” said George.
“You seemed a little worked up when you ran into the kitchen.”
“Did I?” George wanted to take the pills very badly.
“And Jamie was worried about you.”
George gently shook two tablets into the palm of his hand and swallowed them casually. Like people did with peanuts at parties.
“Said you’d not been feeling yourself.”
“They’re Valium,” said George. “I got them from the doctor. They help me feel a little calmer.”
“Good,” said Ray. “So, you’re not planning on going for another walk? Today, I mean. Before the wedding.”
“No,” said George, and forced a little laugh. Was this exchange meant to be amusing? He was unsure. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble.”
“No problem,” said Ray.
“I’m definitely coming to the wedding,” said George. He needed to go to the lavatory quite badly.
“Good,” said Ray. “That’s good. Well, I’d better get suited and booted.”
“Thank you,” said George.
Ray left and George bolted the door and dropped his trousers and sat on the toilet and emptied his bowels and swallowed the remaining six tablets, washing them down with some slightly unpleasant water from the toothbrush mug without stopping to think about the deposit in the bottom.
121
Jean apologized to Eileen for her outburst and Eileen said, “I forgive you,” in a way that made Jean want to be rude all over again.
Ronnie said, “I do hope George is all right.”
And Jean realized it was her fault. He’d sat on the bed looking dreadful, wanting to talk, and Katie had stuck her head round the door and she’d been swept up in all the arrangements and hadn’t gone back to ask what was troubling him.
“I’ll be down again in a few minutes,” she said, and headed upstairs, smiling politely at Ed and Alan and Barbara as she went past the living-room door.
They hadn’t got their tea, had they.
Oh well, she had more important things to do.
When she reached the bedroom George was putting his socks on. She sat down beside him. “I’m sorry, George.”
“What for?”
“For rushing off this morning.”
“You had things to do,” said George.
“How are you feeling now?”
“A lot better,” said George.
He certainly seemed all right. Perhaps Ray had got things out of proportion. “Your arm.”
“Oh yes.” George lifted his arm. There was a large gash on his wrist. “I must have caught it on that barbed-wire fence.”
At first glance it looked like a bite. Surely the dog hadn’t attacked him? “Let me sort that out before you get blood on your clothes.”
She went into the bathroom and fetched the little green first-aid box and patched him up while he sat patiently on the bed. She wished she could do more of this kind of thing. Helping in a practical way.
She stuck down a second strip of plaster to hold the little bandage in place. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” George put his hand in hers.
She held it. “I’m sorry I’ve been so useless.”
“Have you?” asked George.
“I know you’ve not been feeling well,” said Jean. “And I know…sometimes I don’t take enough notice. And that’s not right. I just…I find it hard.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me anymore,” said George.
“What do you mean?” asked Jean.
“I mean you don’t have to worry about me anymore today,” said George. “I’m feeling much happier now.”
“I’m glad,” said Jean.
And it was true. He did seem very relaxed,