Minnie was standing outside her front door, with her big cardigan wrapped round her. Blitz ran up to Daniel when he got out of the car. Minnie reached out to him but he twisted away from her and walked into the house. The dog followed him. Daniel sat at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them to come in, playing with the dog’s ears, which were like squares of velvet. Blitz lay on his back so that Daniel could scratch his stomach and even though he was tired he got down on his knees to do it. The white hair on the dog’s stomach was dirty from the yard.
He could hear Minnie and Tricia outside the door. They were whispering. School. Mother. Police. Fire. Decision. Although he was straining, these words were the only ones he could hear clearly. He had asked the police and his social worker about his mother. The police didn’t bother to try to find out, but Tricia told him in the car that she would look into what had happened to her and would tell Minnie if she heard anything.
‘Why are you going to tell Minnie, why won’t you just tell me?’ Daniel had shouted at her.
‘If you don’t behave yourself, you’re going to be in a Youth Custody Centre next year and that’ll be you until you’re eighteen.’
Minnie closed the door and stood looking at him with her hands on her hips.
‘What?’
‘You look like you’ve had a hard day. Let me run you a bath.’
He thought she was going to say something else. He had prepared himself for harsh words. He went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat as she agitated bubbles in the bath. The mirror steamed up and the air smelled clean.
She took a face cloth and soaked it in the hot bathwater.
‘Your nose is looking pretty nasty. Let me wash away some of that blood before you get in. Bit late, but we’ll put some ice on it. We don’t want you to have a squashed boxer’s nose, do we? Not a good-lookin’ lad like you; wouldn’t be right.’
He let her tend to his nose. She was gentle and the cloth was warm. She rubbed away the dried blood and then washed around his nose.
‘Does it hurt, love?’
‘Not really.’
‘You’re a brave soul.’
He could smell the gin on her breath when she leaned close to him.
When she was finished, she ran her hand through his hair and rested her palm on his cheek.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He shrugged.
‘You went to find your mother?’
‘She wasn’t there.’ His voice thickened.
She pulled him into her gently, and he felt the rough wool of her cardigan against his cheek. He started to cry again, but he didn’t know why.
‘There,’ she said, rubbing his back. ‘Better out than in. Tricia’ll let me know what they find out about your mum. You’re going to be all right. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I could tell from the first minute I met you that you’re a very special boy. You’re strong and you’re bright. You’ll not be little for ever. Whatever anyone else tells you, being grown-up’s a lot better. You get to make your own decisions and live where you like and with who you want and you’ll be grand.’
The bathroom was wet with steam. Daniel felt so tired. He laid his head against her stomach and cried. He put his hands round her hips. His hands couldn’t meet in the middle, but it felt good resting on her stomach and feeling the rise and fall as she breathed.
He sat up and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
‘Come on. Get in there, and get warmed up while I make you some supper. Just leave those dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll bring your pyjamas down.’
When she left, he undressed and stepped into the bath. It was too hot and he took some time lowering himself into it. The bubbles whispered at him. His arms were a right mess: grazed from the stairs and bruised from the kicking. He had bruises on his side and his ribs too. It felt better once he was in the bath. He lay right back and let his head slip under the water, wondering if this was what it felt like to be dead: warmth and silence and the lap of water. He felt the pressure in his lungs and sat up. He was wiping the bubbles off his face when Minnie came in again.
She put his pyjamas on the toilet seat for him and then placed a towel on top. There was a stool by the side of the bath and she leaned on the sink and lowered herself down on to it.
‘How’s your bath? Are you feeling any better?’
He nodded.
‘You look better, I have to say. What a fright you gave me with all that blood. What happened to you? Look at your arms. You’re covered in bruises.’
‘Got in a fight at school.’
‘Who was it? I know them all in Brampton. They buy my eggs. I can talk to their mothers.’
He inhaled. He was about to tell her that he got a kicking because of her, but he decided against it. He was too tired to fight with her and he liked her, just a little bit – just right then, for fixing his nose and running him the bath.
‘You’ll be hungry.’
He nodded.
‘I had stew for dinner. I still have yours in the fridge. If you want I’ll heat it up for you.’
He nodded again, touching his nose to check if it was bleeding again.
‘Or do you just want cheese on toast since it’s so late? Cup of cocoa.’
‘Cheese on toast.’
‘Right you are then. I’ll get it started. You should get out soon. Stay in too long, you’ll get a chill.’
‘Minnie?’ He put one hand on the edge of the bath as she passed. ‘You know the butterfly – why do you like it so much? Is it worth a lot of money?’
She pulled her cardigan around her. He wasn’t being cheeky. He wanted to know yet he could sense her withdrawal.
‘It’s worth a lot to me,’ she said. She started to leave, but then she turned at the door. ‘My daughter gave it to me.’
Daniel leaned on the side of the bath so that he could see her face. She looked sad for a moment but then she was gone and he heard her sighing as she made her way down the stairs.
Later, in his bedroom, listening to the creaks as the house fell asleep, he checked that his mam’s necklace was still there and his knife was still under his pillow.
7
Daniel pushed his shoulder blades back into the driver’s seat as he drove up the M6. He drove with the window down and his elbow out. The noise of the wind almost drowned out the radio, but he needed the air. Driving north, he felt an almost magnetic pull. He had not planned to go up for the funeral but had spent a restless weekend, his mind tormented alternately by thoughts of Sebastian and Minnie. He had woken up with a headache at six o’clock in the morning, showered, dressed and got straight into the car. He had been on the road for nearly four hours, driving in a mindless way, looking forward and remembering, letting his foot fall heavy on the accelerator.
He imagined arriving in Brampton and being slowed by the unrepentant green, the smell of manure threading the air. He imagined pulling up at her house and listening to the barks of her latest pound-dog. It would come running towards him: a boxer, or a mongrel, or a collie. Whatever trauma the dog had experienced, it would still stop in its tracks and heed her when she called for it to stop barking. She would tell the dog that Daniel was family and there was no need for the racket.