♦
Daisy, please. Angela reached out to grab her sleeve. Not now. But Dominic was standing in the way and she couldn’t reach.
What were you going to say? asked Richard.
Grace, replied Daisy. I was going to say grace.
The room snapped into focus, wine bottles green as boiled sweets, galleons on the table mats. Melissa let her mouth hang open comically.
Fire away, said Richard, who was accustomed to situations where other people felt uncomfortable.
Oh Lord…People drifted through life with their eyes closed. You had to wake them up. We thank You for this food, we thank You for this family and we ask You to provide for those who have no food, and to watch over those who have no family.
Amen and a-women, said Benjy.
Excellent. Richard rubbed his hands together, Melissa said, Fucking Nora, under her breath and the scrape of chairs on the flagstones was like a brace of firecrackers. Louisa lifted the red enamelled lid of the big pot and steam spilt upwards.
Alex looked over at Daisy and gave her a thumbs-up. Nice one, sister.
Dominic poured two centimetres of wine into Benjy’s wine glass.
Is this place not wonderful? asked Richard, widening his arms to indicate the house, the valley, the countryside, perhaps life itself.
Louisa was frightened of talking to Daisy. She didn’t know any proper Christians, but Daisy said, I love that sweater, and suddenly it wasn’t so bad after all.
Richard raised his glass. To us, and everyone raised their glasses. To us. Benjy drank his wine in one gulp.
Melissa saw Daisy and Mum laughing together. She wanted to force them apart, but there was something steely about the girl. She wouldn’t back down easily, would she?
Alex couldn’t stop looking at Melissa. That terrible yearning in his stomach. He was imagining her in the shower, foam in her pubes.
Angela looked at Richard and thought, We have nothing in common, nothing, but Richard eased back into his chair. You remember that dead squirrel we found on the roundabout in the park? He swung the wine around his glass like a man in a bad advert for wine. We thought it was a miracle.
How do you remember this stuff? But why had she forgotten? That was the real question.
He closed his eyes as if running a slideshow in his mind’s eye. The tapestry cushion covers. God Almighty. Cats, roses, angels…
She felt obscurely violated. This was her past too, but he had stolen it and made it his own.
Fuck. Melissa leapt to her feet, tomato sauce all over her trousers. You little shit.
Hey, hey, hey. Louisa raised her hands but Melissa swept out.
I’m sorry, said Benjy. I’m really really sorry. He was crying.
Come here, little man. Dominic hugged him. You didn’t mean to do it.
But Alex felt a weight lift. No more sexual interference messing with his head.
Teenage girls, said Richard to the table in general, his tone neutral, as if he were opening the subject up for discussion.
Yes, she remembered now. The dead squirrel. So perfect, the tiny claws, as if it had simply lain down to sleep.
Can I have some more wine? asked Benjy.
This tastes good.
Morrisons in Ross-on-Wye, amazingly.
Nine weeks we had the builders in.
He went to Eton.
Ouch.
There’s plasters in my toilet bag.
Twenty stone at least.
You got blood in the Parmesan.
She had a fractured skull.
Fifty press-ups.
Apple crumble.
A quarter of a million people.
Brandy? Cigars?
Dizzee with a double E…
And then the Hoover blew up. Literally blew up.
Sit down. I’ll do the washing-up.
I’m stuffed.
Bedtime, young man.
Up in them thar hills.
Goodnight, Benjy.
Daisy, will you read to him?
Teeth. Remember what the lady said.
Night, Benjy.
Night-night.
♦
She sat on the floor between the bedside table and the wall. Laughter downstairs. She pushed the point of the scalpel into the palm of her hand but she couldn’t puncture the skin. She was a coward. She would never amount to anything. That fuckwit little boy. She should walk off into the night and get hypothermia and end up in hospital. That would teach them a lesson. God. Friday night. Megan and Cally would be tanking up on vodka and Red Bull before hitting the ice rink. The dizzy spin of the room and Lady Gaga on repeat, Henry and his mates having races and getting chucked out, pineapple fritters at the Chinky afterwards. Christ, she was hungry.
♦
Paolo’s father died and he went back to Italy. Dominic handed Louisa a wet plate. And I discovered that I wasn’t very good at selling myself. He tipped the dirty water out of the bowl and refilled it from the hot tap. I was in a band at college. I thought I’d be famous. Sounds ridiculous now. We were into Pink Floyd. Everyone else was listening to The Clash.
I was listening to Michael Jackson. She held up her hands, begging forgiveness.
Eventually you realise you’re ordinary.
Melissa appeared at the door and Louisa pressed the start button on the microwave. Dominic saw that there was a bowl of apple crumble already in there, waiting. While it turned and hummed in the little window Louisa laid her hand on Melissa’s forearm for three or four seconds as if performing some kind of low-grade spiritual healing. She took a pot of yoghurt from the fridge, a spoon from the drawer and laid them neatly beside one another on the worktop. Thanks, said Melissa quietly and for a fraction of a second Dominic saw the little girl under the veneer.
♦
The trees were thinning up ahead and Joseph could see gashes of sunlight between the trunks. He picked up speed and ten seconds later he stumbled out from between the pines into a space so big and bright that he stood on the little beach, stunned, trying to taking it in (Daisy shifted position to make her back more comfortable). They were looking at a lake, rippled and silver under the grey sky. They had been living underground for so long it felt like the ocean. Mellor opened the map. ‘We’ve arrived,’ he said.