The Bright Side (63 page)

It was a while before I managed to frame my opening bit of chat. This is what I came up with:
Mum?
Dad?
Hello.
It’s been
a
while.
I’d no sooner thought that thought than Melissa spoke up for the first time since we’d arrived
.

“It doesn’t look too good, does it?” she said. “No.
”

“Uncared for …” “Well ….” “Neglected, then.” “Yeah. Neglected.
”

She became lost in thought for a moment. Then she said, “You know what I’ve just realised? Apart from the funeral, this is the first time you and I have been here together. The very first time …
”

I reached out in the darkness and took her hand. “That,” I told her, “is the whole point.
”

CHAPTER
27

I didn’t
stay
in
Melissa’s
that
night.
I
went
home
.

Twenty
metres
from
the
house,
I
took
my
foot
off
the
accelerator
and
allowed
the
car
to
coast,
as
was
my
habit. There
were
no
lights
on
inside.
I
pictured
Gerry
in
the
foetal position
right
in
the
centre
of
the
bed,
gently
shivering
as
he caressed
his
wounded
cheek.
Then
I
realised
that
his
jeep was
nowhere
to
be
seen.
I
parked
in
the
drive
and
let
myself in.
Everything
seemed
to
be
just
as
I
had
left
it.
The
ruins
of the
Cross-eyed
Busker
hadn’t
been
disturbed.
There
was
no
new
rubbish
teetering
atop
the
kitchen
bin.
Upstairs,
however,
I
found
a
clue.
The
pile
of
slashed
clothes
was exactly
where
I
had
left
it
–
but
the
plug
had
been
removed from
the
sink
in
the
en
suite.
The
Walkman
was
still
sitting there,
its
surface
beaded
with
water;
he
hadn’t
even
bothered
lifting
it
out.
I
shuddered
at
the
feebleness
of
my
Angry
Wife tactics
.

Downstairs, I made myself a cup of tea, then sat at the kitchen table and didn’t drink it. I looked at the wall clock. It was half past eleven. I very much doubted that Gerry was out drowning his sorrows. His interest in drinking had started to wane when he was in his early thirties. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him drunk. And besides, he wasn’t the sorrow-drowning type. Alcohol had always been a social lubricant to him, at best; it was never medicinal. He could have been visiting someone, I supposed, but that seemed just as unlikely. Although Gerry had several close friends, I couldn’t see him calling around to any of them late at night to pour his heart out. He wasn’t the type for that either. I flicked the edge of my cup with a fingernail and rested my chin on my hand. And then my mobile rang. It was Chrissy. As soon as I answered, I could tell that she was upset about something
.

“Chrissy?” I said. “Are you all right? “Hi. Yeah, sort of. I’m … I’m fine.” “What’s going on?
”

She didn’t answer. I heard a muffled ruckus of some kind. My heart raced. “Hello? Hello?
”

Her voice returned. “Yeah, I’m here, hang on.” More muffled ruckus. I heard her say, “Go back in, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Then: “Mum?
”

“What is it?
”

She breathed down the line. “Dad’s here.” “
Is
he?
”

“He was on the front doorstep when I came in from work
.

Miserable. Babbling.
”

I fought hard to keep the smile out of my voice. “And you took him in …
“

“I certainly did not. I walked right past him.” “Ah, Chrissy …
”

“But a while later some eejit held the front door for him. He started babbling outside the apartment then.
”

I tried again. “And you took him in …
”

“It was embarrassing, that’s all. I could hear people sticking their heads out into the corridor for a look. He says you punched him in the face.
”

“Slapped,” I said. “I
slapped
him in the face.
”

“And wrecked his clothes. And his Walkman. And the Cross-eyed Busker.
”

“Yeah, well …
”

“About time too. He’s in bits in there. ‘I’m a bloody fool, I don’t deserve to live, blah blah blah!’. Same old shite. I don’t know what to do with him. He says he can’t go back to the house – he wants to stay here for the night. Jesus.
”

“But you’re talking? The two of you are talking?
”

“Don’t get excited. I haven’t really got much choice in the matter, have I?
”

“It’s a start,” I said
.

There was an unpleasant pause. “I just don’t get you, Mum. I really don’t. After the way that man –
”

“Let’s not get into it now. Please.
”

I thought quickly. My conversation with Gerry could wait. It was more important that he and Chrissy made some sort of headway while the going was good
.

“Are you going to let him stay?” I asked
.

“I don’t want to,” she said. “That’s why I’m ringing you. Can you talk him into leaving? Please? If I was fit to lift him and throw him out, I would have done it by now.
”

“No,” I said, immediately and firmly. “What do you mean,
no
?
”

“I mean no, Chrissy. I’m not doing that.
”

She sighed so hard the phone line crackled. “Fine then. I’ll go and stay on someone’s floor for the night. Maybe I’ll join you at Melissa’s, she’s got nice thick carpets …
”

This was an empty threat, I was sure of it. Chrissy hated any kind of discomfort, however temporary. The threat – the entire phone-call – was a last roll of the dice. I didn’t bother pointing out that my stay at her aunt’s was over. The news that I was close by would only add fuel to her fire
.

“It’s up to you,” I said and let the words dangle. She made no reply
.

“Okay then,” I said with an air of finality. “Go on back to him. Tell him you were ringing one of your pals or something. And try to be nice.
”

“I have no intention of being nice,” she said
.

I didn’t push it. The ball was rolling and that was enough. We said goodnight and hung up
.

* * *

About
a
fortnight
after
Tony
and
I
slept
together
(to
use
the TV
way
of
putting
it;
there
was,
of
course,
no
sleeping
involved),
I
started
hassling
Gerry
for
a
new
bed.
He
didn’t put
up
much
of
a
struggle;
luckily
for
me,
we’d
had
our current
one
for
fifteen
years,
and
it
showed.
I
was
sure
that the
sickly,
sweaty
feeling
that
had
engulfed
me
when
I
lay down
every
night
would
vanish
as
soon
as
the
swap
was made, but
I
was
wrong. The
problem,
it
turned
out, was
not the
bed
but
the
room
itself.
It
took
many
months
for
me
to stop
thinking
of
it
as
a
crime-scene.
Even
then,
no
matter how
hard
I
wiped
and
scrubbed
and
dusted
–
it
was
the cleanest
room
in
the
house,
by
far
–
I
was
never
able
to
shake the
feeling
that
it
was
indelibly
tainted.
For
some
reason,
it never
bothered
me
during
the
day,
even
though
that
was when
Tony
and
I
had
committed
our
sin.
I
could
only
guess that
the
guilt
became
stronger
when
I
was
in
there
alone
with Gerry,
lying
side
by
side,
oblivious
husband
and
callous
wife. When I got off the phone from Chrissy that night,
I decided to
hit
the
sack
straight
away.
As
soon
as
I
walked
through
the bedroom
door,
I
noticed
that
the
space
felt
different,
more comfortable
than
usual
–
this,
despite
the
pile
of
sabotaged clothes
on
the
floor
and
the
damp
and
useless
Walkman
in the
en
suite.
I
got
myself
ready
in
record
time
and
dived under
the
crumpled
duvet
.