A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon [92]
“Mum’s fancy man.”
“What do you mean, he was here?” she asked.
“He gave her a lift, apparently. He was keeping a pretty low profile. For obvious reasons. I bumped into him when I arrived.”
“So, what’s he like?”
Jamie shrugged.
“Would you shag him?” she asked.
Jamie raised his eyebrows and she realized that recent events were sending her a little bonkers.
“Sharing an aging bisexual lover with my own mother,” said Jamie. “I think life is probably difficult enough already.” He paused. “Dapper. Suntan. Roll-neck sweater. A little too much aftershave.”
She leaned forward and took hold of his hands. “Are you OK?”
He laughed. “Yeh. Surprisingly enough I am.”
She knew precisely what he meant. And at that moment it really was all right. The two of them sitting quietly together. The eye of the storm.
“So, are you getting married?” Jamie asked.
“God knows. Mum’s over the moon. Of course. So, naturally, there’s a part of me that wants to marry Ray just to piss her off.” She went silent for a moment. “It should be simple, shouldn’t it. I mean, you either love someone or you don’t. It’s not exactly quantum theory. But I haven’t got a clue, Jamie. Not a clue.”
A young Asian man in a dark blue suit walked in through the double doors and went up to the desk. He seemed sober but his shirt was covered in blood.
She remembered all those cartoons of boys sitting in hospital waiting rooms with pans on their heads, and wondered if it was actually possible to get a pan stuck on your head.
Cutting the cancer off with scissors. It was utterly logical when you thought about it. Rather strong treatment for eczema, though.
The Asian man fell over. Not in a slumpy way. But rigid. Like a rake, or the big hand of a very fast clock. He made a loud noise when he hit the floor. It was funny and not funny all at the same time.
He was stretchered away.
Then Ray and Jacob appeared.
Jacob said, “He was…There was a…Grandpa was snoring.”
Ray said, “You haven’t seen your mum, have you?”
“Why?” asked Jamie.
“She went a bit weird then legged it.”
Jacob looked at Jamie. “Magic the coin.”
“Later, OK?” He stood up and ruffled Jacob’s hair. “I’ll go and find her.”
Ten minutes later they were heading back to the village.
They took Mum in their car. Katie got into the back with Jacob. Mum was clearly not too chuffed about sitting in the front with Ray but Katie was perversely entertained by the sight of the two of them trying to sustain a polite conversation.
Besides, she liked being in the back with Jacob. The children. No responsibilities. The adults sorting everything out. Like that summer in Italy when the engine of the Alfa Romeo ruptured outside Reggio Emilia and they pulled over at the side of the road and the man with the amazing mustache came and said that it was completamente morte or something like that and Dad actually vomited into the grass, though at the time it was just another bit of strange parental behavior and a bad smell, and she and Jamie sat on the verge playing with the binoculars and the little wooden snowflake puzzle, drinking fizzy orange without a care in the world.
74
Jamie was kneeling on the stairs with a washing-up bowl of soapy water sponging his father’s blood from the carpet.
That was the problem with books and films. When the big stuff happened there was orchestral music and everyone knew where to get a tourniquet and there was never an ice-cream van going by outside. Then the big stuff happened in real life and your knees hurt and the disposable cloth wipe was disintegrating in your hands and it was obvious there was going to be some kind of permanent stain.
Jamie got back to the house first and when Katie and Ray pulled up beside him, Mum shot out of the passenger door like the car was on fire, which was a little odd. And there was this panic going on because Jacob obviously couldn’t go into the house on account of the blood (Ray’s description made it sound more like redecoration than spillage). But the panic was being done entirely with hand gestures so that Jacob didn’t get wind of what was happening.