"Yes, but..." He paused, clearly grappling with some new and unpleasant thoughts. "Does your mother know your father's been writing letters for you?"
"No."
"She'll go apeshit," he said in alarm. "You know bloody well she thought the whole damn mess was dead and buried twenty years ago."
I yanked a particularly large tuft out of the candlewick and poked it back again when I realized I'd made a hole. I wondered if he remembered that my parents were coming to stay with us the following day, or whether like all the other disagreeable things in his life he had pushed it out of his mind. "I wouldn't worry about it," I murmured. "She won't be angry with you ... only with me."
"What about your father?" he demanded, his voice rising in pitch. "She'll tear strips off him for going behind her back."
"There's no reason why she should ever find out."
"But she will," he said pessimistically. "She always does."
I thought of my father's advice on the lesser of two evils. If nothing else, Sam's inability to hide his feelings would start my mother on a hunt for hidden secrets. "She might be cross for a day or two," I said, "until she persuades herself it's all my fault. She's programmed never to blame men for anything. As far as she's concerned, Eve corrupted Adam"-I held Sam's gaze-"when she ought to know that Adam almost certainly took Eve without permission."
He had the grace to blush. "Is that what this is all about? Getting your own back?"
I didn't answer.
"Couldn't you have told me?"
I sighed. "Told you what? That I was pursuing something that was important to me? As I recall, the last time I used those words to you, you accused me of being a neurotic bitch and said if Annie's name was ever mentioned in your presence again, you'd divorce me."
He waved a despairing hand. "I didn't mean it."
"Yes, you did," I said flatly, "and if I'd been half as confident then as Tom and Luke are now, I'd have told you where to stuff your pathetic little divorce. I only stayed with you because I had nowhere else to go. My mother banned me from going home and none of my friends wanted a loony parked in their spare bedrooms."
"You said you wanted to stay."
"I was lying."
Sam lowered himself gingerly onto an unopened box of wine. "I thought this was all over a long time ago. I thought you'd forgotten about it."
"No."
"Jesus," he muttered, dropping his head into his hands and lapsing into a long silence. He roused himself finally. "Have you ever loved me?" he asked bitterly.
I wanted to tell him it was a childish question, that if he didn't know the answer after twenty-four years then nothing I could say would make a difference. Did he think anyone could live indefinitely with someone they didn't love? Could he? But outside on the terrace Tom's boom box roared into sudden life, causing the walls and floors of the old farmhouse to thump in sympathy, and I was spared the necessity of replying.
I went into the bathroom to change and left my rucksack on the bed for Sam to explore. It was a cowardly way to impart information but I didn't feel badly about it. As the old adage has it-you reap what you sow-and Sam's harvest was well overdue.
E-mail from Mrs. Julia Charles, formerly next-door
neighbor to the Ranelaghs at 3 Graham Road,
Richmond-now living in Toronto, Canada-dated 1999
M. R.
From: Julia Charles (juliac@cancom.com)
Sent: 11 February 1999 18:50
To: M. Ranelagh
Subject: The Slater children!
You won't believe the trouble we've had just to locate one of the Slater children! Not the one you wanted, I fear-being the youngest (Danny)-but he may be the most amenable to persuading his mother to answer your letters! I won't bore you with full details of the swings and roundabouts-suffice it to say that Jennifer's preschool chum at number 6 (Linda Barry) kept in touch with another preschool chum (Amy Trent) who was at art school with Danny and still keeps in touch with him. We really did bust a gut to find Alan but got nowhere, I'm afraid. Word has it that he married six or seven years ago and is living somewhere in Isleworth, but I don't know how accurate that is. It might be worth trying international directory inquiries to see if there's an A. Slater in that area, but it's a common name and you may come up with several.
Anyway, Danny Slater is living somewhere in Brixton (no address or phone number) and teaching graphic design at a college there. The name and address of the college is: Freetown Community Center, Brixton, London. However, the really good news is that he has an e-mail address-michelangelo@rapmail.com-and collects his messages regularly via an Internet cafe near Waterloo station. Jennifer's game to make the contact if Luke and Tom don't want to, but it would speed things up, I think, if you approach him direct. NB: Your idea to say it's an IT project using e-mail and Internet only is a good one and worked well with Linda and Amy.
So glad to hear Sam's on the mend. I know what a shock it must have been for you!
Speak soon, love Julia
Part of the e-mail correspondence between Luke
Ranelagh and Danny Slater during the first six months of 1999
DANNY SLATER
From: Luke Ranelagh (beachbum@safric.com)
Sent: 22 February 1999 15:12
To: Danny Slater
Subject: Babes in bikinis
How about these? Mine's the blond babe on the right. Word pictures of Graham Road will do if you don't have access to a scanner. I'm an ex-pat, for Christ's sake! I have an aesthetic appreciation of all things English. Cheers. Luke.
LUKE RANELAGH
From: Danny Slater (michelangelo@rapmail.com)
Sent: 20 February 1999 20:50
To: Luke Ranelagh
Subject: IT Project-Database: Graham Road
Listen, mate, anyone who wants to build a database 'round a black hole like Graham Road needs his head examining. Okay, so you're on the other side of the world and you don't know shit about the UK. It's an excuse of sorts-and I guess I can accept it on that basis-but do me a favor and send me some pictures of babes in bikinis. I'm an artist, for Christ's sake! I have an aesthetic appreciation of beautiful women. Word pictures will do if you don't have access to a scanner. The truth is I am DESPERATE to forget I ever lived in Graham f*****g Road. If you'd met my mother you'd understand! Cheers. Danny.
Extracts from an educational psychologist's report on
Alan Slater, 32 Graham Road, Richmond. Requested
by his head teacher-re: permanent exclusion from
school-dated April 1979
...Alan' shows a pattern of bullying behavior. He employs his strength to intimidate others through unprovoked violence, and uses abusive language toward children of different ethnic groups. He has a history of discipline problems and reacts aggressively toward teachers who attempt to control him-particularly the females ... His academic performance across all subjects is poor and this has resulted in feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem. He regards himself as isolated from his peer group and becomes enraged by seemingly minor slights. He feels rejected by family, peers and teachers, and seeks further rejection through disruptive behavior in order to provide himself with a reason for why no one likes him. There is evidence of violence at home. He speaks about his hatred of his father and refers to his mother as "a vicious bitch." He has a close bond with Michael Percy, a near neighbor and classmate, whom he regards as similarly disaffected...