A Spot Of Bother Part 31

Jamie looked a little disappointed. "I thought I'd get a better reaction than that."

So Katie explained, about the visit home and the panic attacks and Lethal Weapon Lethal Weapon.

"Oh, I forgot," said Jamie. "He was here."

"Who?"

"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 b.u.mped into him when I arrived."

"So, what's he like?"

Jamie shrugged.

"Would you s.h.a.g him?" she asked.

Jamie raised his eyebrows and she realized that recent events were sending her a little bonkers.

"Sharing an aging bis.e.xual 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.

"G.o.d knows. Mum's over the moon. Of course. So, naturally, there's a part of me that wants to marry Ray just to p.i.s.s 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 s.h.i.+rt 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 completamente morte or something like that and Dad actually vomited into the gra.s.s, 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. or something like that and Dad actually vomited into the gra.s.s, 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 was.h.i.+ng-up bowl of soapy water sponging his father's blood from the carpet. on the stairs with a was.h.i.+ng-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 pa.s.senger 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.

And Jamie could see what Katie meant about Ray being capable. Because he pulled a tent out of the boot and told Jacob the two of them were sleeping in the garden because there was a crocodile in the house and if Jacob was really lucky he wouldn't have to go inside and wash and he could wee in the flower bed.

But it wasn't a job. You didn't marry someone because they were capable. You married someone because you were in love. And there was something uns.e.xy about being too capable. Capable was a dad thing.

Though, obviously, if Ray was their father he would have gone to the doctor. Or used the right tools and not left something semi-attached.

Jamie was still soaping the stairs when Katie materialized in front of him.

"You don't think he was going to keep it, do you?" She was waving an empty ice-cream tub.

"What's it, it, by the way?" asked Jamie. by the way?" asked Jamie.

"Left hip," said Katie, making a little scissor gesture next to the pocket of her jeans.

"How much?" asked Jamie.

"Large burger," said Katie. "Apparently. I didn't see the actual wound. Anyway...that's the bathroom done. Mum's finished the kitchen. Give me that stuff and you can go out and see how Ray and Jacob are doing."

"You'd rather clean blood out of a carpet than go and talk to your fiance."

"If you're going to be horrible you can do it yourself."

"Sorry," said Jamie. "Offer accepted."

"Besides," said Katie, "much as it pains me to say this, women are just better at cleaning."

The sky was overcast and the garden was very dark indeed. Jamie had to stand on the patio for thirty seconds before he could see anything at all.

Ray had pitched the tent as far away from Katie's family as possible. When Jamie reached it a disembodied voice said, "h.e.l.lo Jamie."

Ray was sitting with his back to the house. His head was a silhouette, his expression unreadable.

"I brought you a coffee." Jamie handed it over.

"Cheers."

Ray was sitting on a camping mat. He hotched backward, offering Jamie the other end.

Jamie sat down. The mat was slightly warm. There were little breathy snores from inside the tent.

"So, what did he do to himself?" asked Ray.

"s.h.i.+t," said Jamie. "n.o.body's told you, have they. I'm sorry."

Jamie told the story and Ray let out a long whistle. "What a nutter."

He seemed impressed and for a couple of seconds Jamie was oddly proud of his father.

They sat in silence.

It was like the teenage-party thing. Without "Hi, Ho, Silver Lining." And Jamie wasn't alone in the garden. But it was all right. Ray had been banished in some obscure way and that made him an outsider, too. Plus Jamie couldn't see him, so he didn't take up as much s.p.a.ce as usual.

Ray said, "I did a runner."

"Come again."

"Katie went out for a coffee with Graham. I followed them."

"Ooh, that's not good, is it."

"Wanted to kill him, to be honest," said Ray. "I threw this dustbin. Knew I'd blown it. So I bottled. Slept at the house of this bloke from work." He paused. "Of course, that was worse than following her to the caff."

Jamie didn't know what to say. Talking to Ray was hard enough in broad daylight. With no body language it was pretty much impossible.

"Actually," said Ray, "it's not really about Graham. Graham was just a..."

"Catalyst?" said Jamie, glad of a chance to make a contribution.

"A symptom," said Ray, politely. "Katie doesn't love me. I don't think she ever has. But she's trying really hard. Because she's frightened I'm going to chuck her out of the house."

"Uh-huh," said Jamie.

"I'm not going to chuck her out of the house."

"Thank you." It sounded weird. But correcting it would have sounded weirder.

"But you don't marry someone if you don't love them, do you," said Ray.

"No," said Jamie, though people obviously did.

They sat for a while, listening to a distant train (how strange that you only ever heard them at night). It was oddly pleasant. What with Ray being a bit crestfallen. And Jamie not being able to see him. So Jamie said, "G.o.d, the famous Graham," in a sort of speaking-out-loud way as if he was talking to a friend.

He could feel Ray flinch. Even in the dark.

"You've met him," said Jamie. "You know what he's like."

"I try to keep a low profile," said Ray.

Jamie sipped his coffee. "Well, obviously he's incredibly good-looking." This was probably not the right thing to say. "But that's all he is. He's boring. And shallow. And weak. And actually not very intelligent. Except you don't really notice at first. Because he's cute, and laid-back, and confident. So you kind of a.s.sume he's got some grand plan." He glanced back toward the house and noticed a broken pane in the kitchen window which had been neatly filled with a rectangle of wood. "He works for an insurance company...It's not often that someone has a job that makes mine seem exciting."

Jamie was rather enjoying talking to Ray in the dark like this. The strangeness, the secretness. The way it made things easier to say. So much so that Jamie let his guard down and found himself having a brief but very specific s.e.xual fantasy about Ray and only realized what he was doing about three seconds in, which was like treading on a slug in the kitchen at night, because it was wrong in so many ways.

Ray said, "Your mum's not too chuffed about having me in the family, is she."

And Jamie thought, What the h.e.l.l, What the h.e.l.l, and said, "Not much. But she thought the sun shone out of Graham's a.r.s.e. So she's hardly the world's best judge of character." Was this wise? He could have done with seeing Ray's face at this point. "Of course when Graham walked out on Katie and Jacob she decided he was a servant of Satan." and said, "Not much. But she thought the sun shone out of Graham's a.r.s.e. So she's hardly the world's best judge of character." Was this wise? He could have done with seeing Ray's face at this point. "Of course when Graham walked out on Katie and Jacob she decided he was a servant of Satan."

Ray wasn't saying anything.

A light went on upstairs and his mother appeared briefly at the bedroom window and glanced down into the dark garden. She looked small and sad.

Jamie said, "You hang on in there," and realized he wanted Ray and Katie to stay together and wasn't entirely sure why. Because he needed something to go right when everything else was going wrong? Or was he starting to like the man?

"Thanks, mate," said Ray.

And Jamie paused and said, "Tony chucked me." He wasn't entirely sure why he said this either.

"And you want to get back together..."

Jamie tried to say yes but the thought of saying it made him feel slightly choked up and he didn't feel close enough to Ray for that. "Mmm-hmm."

"Your fault or his?"

Jamie decided to go for it. It was a kind of penance. Like diving into a cold pool. It would be character building. If he cried, sod it. He'd made a fool of himself enough times already this week. "I wanted to be with someone. And I wanted to stay single at the same time."

"So you can, like, s.h.a.g other blokes?"

"No, not even that." Strangely, he didn't feel like crying. Quite the opposite, in fact. Perhaps it was the darkness, but it was easier talking about this to Ray than to anyone in his own family. Katie included. "I didn't want to compromise. I didn't want to share stuff. I didn't want to have to make sacrifices. Which is stupid. I can see that now." He paused. "You love someone, you've got to let something go."

"Spot on," said Ray.

"I f.u.c.ked up," said Jamie. "And I'm not sure how to mend it."