Roy just laughed. ‘Mum and Dad haven’t got anything worth swindling. You know that. And besides, don’t you believe in rehabilitation? I assume he’s paid his debt to society?’
‘Yes, but-’
‘Well, then.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Roy. I caught him red-handed.’
‘Listen, big brother. So what if he’s pocketing a bob or two here and there? He practically does all their shopping for them, house cleaning, too. Isn’t it worth it?’
‘That’s not the point. If he wants paying for what he does, that’s different.’
‘Maybe it’s just his way.’
‘It’s a funny bloody way.’
Roy shrugged and laid his arm across Banks’s shoulders. ‘Like I said, it’s not as if you’re around to do it, is it, eh? I say count your blessings and let sleeping dogs lie. Look, there’s Uncle Ken. See you later.’
Banks muttered to himself under his breath. He should have known approaching Roy was a waste of time. Anybody suspected of swindling a penny out of him and he’d probably put a contract out on them, but his own parents… On the other hand, was Roy right? Was Banks making too much out of all this? Being a party pooper? He looked at his parents. They seemed happy enough – his mother did, anyway – what right had he got to challenge that? What gave him the moral justification to come down here once in a blue moon and spoil what little good fortune they had going for them? His mother clearly adored Geoff – he could tell by the way she looked at him and talked about him – and having him around made life a hell of a lot easier for his father, too. Roy was right. Banks had been interfering too much, and it was about time he backed off and left people to get on with their lives.
‘Penny for them?’
Banks turned. It was Kay. ‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ he said. ‘Nice to see you.’
She smiled and touched his arm. ‘Nice to see you, too. I was just talking to your mother. She offered her condolences.’
She was wearing a lemon summer dress, which fell to just below her knees and she had her hair tied up and held in place with a patterned leather barrette.
‘You look wonderful,’ Banks said.
Kay blushed. ‘Thank you. How about a drink for the lady?’
‘Of course. Vodka and tonic?’
‘That’ll do nicely.’ She took hold of his arm. ‘And don’t go too far away. I don’t know anyone else here.’
‘Of course you do,’ said Banks. ‘You know my parents.’
‘I haven’t seen them for years.’
‘And my brother Roy.’
‘He was just a little kid when we were together. Around too often, if I remember correctly.’
Banks nodded. He remembered being blackmailed into giving Roy money to get lost on more than one occasion. ‘You know Geoff Salisbury,’ he said, nodding to where Geoff stood by the fireplace talking to some cousin whose name Banks couldn’t remember.
Kay gave a little shudder. ‘Yuck. I don’t know about you, but he gives me the creeps.’
They got their drinks.
‘Come on,’ Banks said to Kay. ‘Let’s get some fresh air.’
They went out to the back step. Banks could hear music next door, but only softly. The rain had stopped earlier that afternoon and it had turned into a pleasant evening. The sky was already darkening and the stars coming out. There was even a pale quarter moon low in the sky. Banks leaned against the wall. Kay stood quietly beside him.
‘Last night-’ he began.
But Kay hushed him, putting a finger to his lips. ‘No. Don’t say anything. That was marvellous. Special. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’
‘If you like,’ Banks said. He’d been thinking the same thing. What had happened had been about the past, unfinished business, passing magic. It had been time out of time. Tomorrow they would both go back to their real lives and probably never see one another again. Banks thought about how their relationship had ended all those years ago, and how he had believed he would never see her again after he went to London. This was enough. This was more than enough. It had to be.
They went back inside. The party went on, as these things do. Banks and Kay talked to Mrs Green for a while, and Banks promised not to be such a stranger. Aunt Florence regaled him with her cataracts, and Aunt Lynn went on about her gall-bladder operation. He also heard about Cousin Patrick’s prostate problems, Uncle Gerald’s haemorrhoids and Cousin Louise’s manic depression. It was enough to make him want to kill himself before he got old. Then there was Cousin Beth’s divorce, Nick and Janet’s third baby, a girl they had named Shania, Sharon’s promotion, Gail’s miscarriage and Ayesha’s boob job. All the while Kay stood politely by, asking questions and making sympathetic comments or noises. Roy continued to work the room, seemingly indefatigable.
Inevitably, Uncle Ted fell asleep. Cousin Angie had too much to drink and was sick in the kitchen sink, dislodging a nose stud in the process, which she nearly inhaled. Uncle Gerald and Uncle Frank almost came to blows. Aunt Ruth wet herself, and young, lovely, anorexic Cousin Sue, with all the self-esteem of a blade of grass, became tearful and made a pathetic attempt to seduce Banks.
All in all, it was just another typical family do.
Roy and Corinne left early. They sought out Banks and Kay to say their goodbyes, and as usual Roy invited Banks to the South Kensington house, said they really must see more of one another and that he hoped Banks could make it to the wedding next year. Banks promised he would try, gave the blushing bride-to-be a chaste kiss on her pale, cool cheek, and they were gone.
When Banks looked around, he noticed that Geoff Salisbury had left too. Only one or two relatives remained, and they were either very close or very drunk. Banks found his mother having a heart-to-heart with her sister, Flo, and said he’d see Kay home and be right back.
The street was quiet, the evening air cool. They saw only a few people as they walked the short distance to Kay’s house.
‘I’d better not come in,’ he said at the doorstep.
‘No.’
He wondered what would happen if he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Would their resolve melt? Somehow, he didn’t think it was very strong.
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘if you’re ever up Eastvale way-’
‘Of course I will.’ She gave him the sort of smile that said she never would be, then after a quick kiss on the cheek, the door opened and closed and Banks was left standing there alone.
He didn’t want to go back to the dregs of the party immediately, didn’t want to face the drunken relatives desperately sobering up for the drive home, didn’t want to face the mess of spilled drinks and food smeared on the carpets. He knew he would have to – he owed it to his parents to help clean up at least – but he could put it off for a little while longer.
The moon was higher now and Banks could see stars, planets, constellations even, beyond the amber glow of the street lights. He wandered the quiet Sunday night streets of the estate feeling oddly melancholy, past the maisonettes where he used to deliver newspapers, past the house where his old, late friend Steve Hill used to live. Steve had kept toads in a bell jar at the bottom of the garden, Banks remembered, but he was forgetful, and one summer he neglected them for so long that they shrivelled up and died. They looked like dried mushrooms. That was what happened to living things you were supposed to love and care for but neglected.
His melancholy was probably something to do with Kay, he realized, though he hadn’t really wanted to repeat last night, either. Last night had had a magic about it that any attempt at repetition would fall well short of. He remembered how their relationship had fallen apart all those years ago. His fault.
It had all started to change when Kay left school at sixteen and got a job at Lloyd’s bank in the town centre. She made new friends, had money to spare, started going for drinks with the office crowd regularly after work on a Friday. Banks was still at school, having stayed on for his A levels, and somehow a schoolboy had less appeal than these slightly older, better dressed, more sophisticated men of the world at the office. They had more money to flash around and, even more important, some of them had cars. One pillock called Nigel, with a plummy accent and a Triumph MG, particularly got up Banks’s nose. Kay insisted there was no hanky-panky going on, but Banks became tortured with jealousy, racked by imagined infidelities, and in the end Kay walked away. She couldn’t stand his constant harping on about who she was seeing and what she was doing, she said, and the way he got stroppy if she even so much as looked at another man.