A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon [31]
After an Indian meal they went back to Jamie’s flat and Tony did at least two things to him on the sofa that no one had ever done to him before then came back and did them again the following evening, and suddenly life became very good indeed.
It made him uncomfortable, being dragged along to Chelsea matches. It made him uncomfortable, ringing in sick so they could fly to Edinburgh for a long weekend. But Jamie needed someone who made him uncomfortable. Because getting too comfortable was the thin end of a wedge whose thick end involved him turning into his father.
And, of course, if a banister broke or the kitchen needed a new coat of paint, well, that made up for the Clash at high volume and work boots in the sink.
They had arguments. You couldn’t spend a day in Tony’s company without an argument. But Tony thought they were all part of the fun of human relationships. Tony also liked sex as a way of making up afterward. In fact, Jamie sometimes wondered whether Tony only started arguments so they could make up afterward. But the sex was too good to complain.
And now they were at one another’s throats over a wedding. A wedding that had bugger all to do with Tony and, to be honest, not a lot to do with Jamie.
There was a crick in his neck.
He lifted his head and realized that he’d been leaning his forehead on the steering wheel for the last five minutes.
He got out of the car. Tony was right. He couldn’t make Katie change her mind. It was guilt, really. Not having been there to listen.
There was no use worrying about that now. He had to make amends. Then he could stop feeling guilty.
Fuck. He should have bought cake.
It didn’t matter. Cake wasn’t really the point.
Half past two. They’d have the rest of the afternoon before Ray got home. Tea. Chat. Piggybacks and airplanes for Jacob. If they were lucky he’d take a nap and they could have a decent talk.
He walked up the path and rang the bell.
The door opened and he found the hallway blocked by Ray wearing paint-spattered overalls and holding some kind of electric drill.
“So, that’s two of us taking the day off,” said Ray. “Gas leak at the office.” He held up the drill and pressed the button so that it whizzed a bit. “You heard the news, then.”
“I did.” Jamie nodded. “Congratulations.”
Congratulations?
Ray extended a beefy paw and Jamie found his own hand sucked into its gravitational field.
“That’s a relief,” said Ray. “Thought you might’ve come to punch my lights out.”
Jamie managed a laugh. “It wouldn’t be much of a fight, would it.”
“No.” Ray’s laughter was louder and more relaxed. “You coming in?”
“Sure. Is Katie around?”
“Sainsbury’s. With Jacob. I’m fixing stuff. Should be back in half an hour.”
Before Jamie could think of an appointment he might have been en route to Ray closed the door behind him. “Have a cup of coffee while I stick the door back on this cupboard.”
“I’d prefer tea, if that’s OK,” said Jamie. The word tea did not sound manly.
“I reckon we can do tea.”
Jamie sat himself down at the kitchen table feeling not unlike he had felt in the back of that Cessna before the ill-fated parachute jump.
“Glad you came.” Ray put the drill down and washed his hands. “Something I wanted to ask you.”
A horrifying image came to mind of Ray patiently soaking up the hate waves over the past eight months, waiting for the moment when he and Jamie were finally alone together.
He put the kettle on, leant against the sink, pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets and stared at the floor. “Do you reckon I should marry Katie?”
Jamie wasn’t sure he’d heard this correctly. And there were certain questions you just didn’t answer in case you’d got the wrong end of a very big stick (Neil Turley in the showers after football that summer, for example).
“You know her better than me.” Ray had the look on his face that