This done, the man let the boy go, and his driver came back with chips—no salt, spare vinegar, malt not onion obviously—and Jacob Pritchard, king of the coast, bathed in petrol, blood and cheap French wine, got back into his car and drove away.
Four days later, a letter came from the school announcing that after due consideration the Sponsorship Committee was altering its decision, and the boy who would be Theo was very welcome to participate in its sponsored A-level scheme, and that he needed to provide ×4 pens (black), ×4 pens (blue), ×5 reams of ×250 sheets of lined white paper, ×6 large ring binders, ×3 small ring binders, ×100 paper plates and napkins and ×16 rolls of toilet paper for the sixth-form learning hub.
The day he started A levels, Dani Cumali began her student apprenticeship at Budgetfood’s local fish-processing plant, where she maintained the fish-gut nets where the flies bred in order to produce maggots for the medicinal trade.
Very good at cleaning wounds your average maggot. They only actually eat dead flesh and that’s why we value this by-product as a vital part of our environment consumer promise return strategy, bringing the company forward for the future.
Chapter 16
Time is
Theo isn’t sure he knows what time is there is blood in his clothes in his hair in his fingers sometimes he sleeps and he dreams of
macaroni cheese
Helen in the snow in the ice in the
Dani Cumali, sat by the side of the couch
“Blessed are her hands blessed is the water beneath her fingers blessed are the stones at the bottom of the lake blessed are the roots that dig blessed is the moon that shines upon the…”
The patty’s prayer, the chant of those condemned to the prison work line, vanishes into the slop slop slop of water against the side of the boat and Theo
dreams.
Today’s cards: nine of swords, five of swords, queen of cups, the Priestess, three of coins, knave of staves, the Moon (inverted), the Fool, the Hanged Man (inverted).
If only she knew the right question to ask, Neila felt sure that there would be a satisfactory answer in all of this.
The water pump at Cassiobridge Lock isn’t working, and no one mans the gate.
Theo is awake, and walks to the prow of the boat as Neila begins cranking, the cold on the metal handle of the winch tearing through the double layers of wool and cotton on her hands, biting to the bone as she hauls open the sluice. He opens his mouth as if he might offer to help, then realises this is a silly idea and simply watches, waiting as the water rises, carrying the narrowboat up to the next level of the canal.
Neila’s back curls into a circle, legs stiff castle buttresses as she heaves the gates shut behind them, ready for another passer-by. Theo watches and waits, hands buried inside his sleeves, shivering, as she comes back on board. She enters at the stern, past the engine, and he shuffles inside at the prow, closing the door behind him.
They eat lunch and it is
very nice
thank you it’s very
I don’t have much you see but it’s…
You were hurt. On the canal. There is a code on the canal you see but actually it’s my principles that’s more important to me, my sense of…
I didn’t do anything
Neila puts her spoon down in the bowl of chemical tomato soup, leans back in her folding chair, crosses her legs, says, “I read fortunes. Hands. Cards. I’ve got clients in Leighton Buzzard, and a pub in Tring has a psychic night and they said they’d have me. Nine years ago I was arrested for antisocial behaviour and criminal damage. I’d been protesting at the closing of a library. When I was a child we used to sing ‘the wheels on the bus’ in the kids’ section, but most people liked it for the DVDs. The police said we smashed a car. We had cardboard placards made from fruit-juice boxes. They gave me an indemnity of £17,000 or four years on the patty line. I paid the indemnity, and that took everything I had. Now I live on the canal. I thought it would be romantic. Sometimes it is. I spend most of my days thinking about fuel and drinking water. When I tell you to wait outside, you wait outside. Do you understand?”
Perhaps he did. He nodded, once, watching her.
“Some things are easier with two. Carrying coal, water, wood; making repairs. The toilet has a tank which we’ll need to pump out. Sometimes the pump freezes, then you have to do it by hand. The engine goes. Usually the coolant filter. Am I making myself clear here, I don’t know if I’m making myself…
Before I read fortunes, I was a hairdresser. There’s a woman in Water Eaton who swears she won’t let anyone else touch her head. She has stories. I like her stories; she was a mayoress for a time, someone once buried a cow upside down in her front garden in protest at a planning permission, I hope the cow was dead first but imagine the effort. Getting the cow, getting the truck, getting the shovel, digging—the whole laying-the-corpse and they put the grass back too those hooves sticking in the air—are we good?” He nodded, but she repeated, firmer, one hand resting on the tabletop. “Are we good?”
Licked his lips, nodded again, harder. “Yes. We’re good.”
“Good. You should finish eating and rest. When you’re feeling ready, I’ll take you through the basics of the boat.”
Chapter 17
Ring ring ring ring!
Ring ring destiny is calling!
ring ring ring ring
In Tulse Hill, lying on his belly, Theo struggles to wake, and only answered because he didn’t recognise her number.
Dani said, “Theo?”
He didn’t speak, phone frozen, breath caught, mouth closing behind it.
“Are you there? I know you can hear me. Listen. Listen. I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up and now they’re going to… I’ve fucked up.”
This wasn’t sadness or self-pity. Fact upon fact, truth that was necessary to be spoken. “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” he replied, groggy.
“They’re going to come and get me. I need you to…”
“I can’t talk to you.”
“Lucy is your daughter.”
The words settled between them.
Theo looked round his room and remembered again how small and stupid and soulless it was, wondered why he bothered folding his pants. Did that make him mad? Pants could just be shoved into the drawer, there was room after all.
“Lucy is your daughter,” repeated Dani. “She’s your daughter.”
Silence on the line.
A collision of probabilities—a coin thrown one hundred times lands on heads one hundred times, and yet that does not mean that it must land on tails. Mean, median, middle, count backwards from the date of birth and maybe, the thinnest of maybes, and then what equation do you use for this moment, how do you equate her need, her lies, the truth, how do you even begin to…