Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [44]
‘If you’re ready to go, I’ll drop you at school,’ their father offered. ‘I’ve got to go that way, I need some things from the builders’ merchant.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Zaki, grateful that someone had broken the awful silence and had driven the shadows back into the corners. He raced upstairs to get his school things. He picked up the bracelet and put it in his pocket; they must ask Anusha’s father this afternoon if he had any idea where it was from. Even the thought of facing Mrs Palmer was better than spending any more time in this house.
The three of them climbed into the front of the van, Zaki in the middle. ‘I suppose you’ll want the usual rubbish,’ said their father, selecting Radio 1. Michael leant across in front of Zaki and turned the radio off.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, ease up, will you, Michael!’ snapped their father. But Michael maintained his stony silence as they reversed out of the drive and headed into town.
‘Is it OK if I go to a friend’s place after school?’ Zaki asked. He had the logbook in his rucksack. They could look at it at Anusha’s house.
‘Sure. Are you going to Craig’s?’
‘No – someone you don’t know.’
‘A new friend – good – what’s his name?’
‘Anusha,’ said Zaki. ‘And it’s a girl.’ Zaki glanced at his brother, expecting some quip, but there was no reaction.
‘Fine,’ his father said. ‘Will you be home for tea?’
‘Probably.’
‘Well, call me if you’re going to be late.’
Feeling that the atmosphere in the van had lightened, Zaki decided to try to penetrate his brother’s brooding silence. ‘I spoke to Mum last night,’ he said brightly. Michael turned slowly to look at him, and that’s when Zaki saw the terrible darkness behind his brother’s eyes and he shivered, even though it was hot in the van’s crowded cab.
‘What did she say?’ Michael asked.
‘Just what she’s been doing, and that,’ said Zaki.
‘Nothing else?’
‘No.’ Zaki waited for his brother to say more. ‘Why?’
A sudden sense of dread, a fear of something he didn’t know that he should know, gripped Zaki.
‘So she didn’t say she wasn’t coming home?’
The words circled around Zaki’s head but his mind refused to let them enter.
‘What?’ Zaki said.
‘Michael!’ growled his father.
‘She’s not coming home,’ Michael repeated.
His father braked hard and swung the van to the side of the road. There was an angry blast from the horn of the car behind as its driver, taken by surprise, had to swerve to pass them.
‘Michael, it’s not as simple as that,’ he heard his father say, but Michael’s words had broken through and were now imbedded deep inside Zaki like a barbed hook in the gut of a fish.
‘It seems pretty simple to me,’ said Michael.
‘Michael . . . listen – your mother and I need some time – that’s all. Nothing’s settled, nothing’s definite.’
‘You’re splitting up! Admit it. Just admit it! Don’t you think we deserve to know?’
‘Dad, is this true?’ Zaki managed to force the words out, willing his father to deny it.
Michael opened the passenger door and got out. Slamming the door shut, he set off down the road on foot. His father lowered his head to rest it on the steering wheel as though utterly exhausted, then, taking a deep breath, straightened and sat back.
‘Zaki, I’m really sorry,’ he said. ‘We should have talked to you.’
Zaki didn’t think he was crying, his body was quite still, but the tears were pouring down his face, dripping off his chin into his lap. He picked up his rucksack from the floor by his feet, opened the van door and followed after his brother. His father made no move to stop him, but remained sitting in the parked van.
Michael was walking fast. At first Zaki wanted to run and catch him up, but it was as though the earth’s gravity had suddenly doubled, dragging him down, making his limbs heavy, and it was all he could do to keep walking. The gap between Zaki and Michael steadily grew wider