dead giveaway.
“Bet you’d be all right with Matt jumping on you—”
My face was burning hot. Maybe he’d blame it on the stuffy hospital room. “Have you ever seen Misery ? Because I’m quite happy to stage a re-enactment of a certain scene—”
“Timothy!” Mum’s voice snapped in my ear. “Would you please try and remember your brother is very seriously injured? We’re all extremely worried about his operation.”
“Er, sorry.” I felt about five years old. “Um, is it really that big a deal?” I asked Jay.
“Nah. They’re just going to put a sort of framework in. They said it’ll feel a lot better when they’ve done it, and I’ll be able to walk on it sooner.”
“ If he doesn’t catch MRSA and lose it altogether,” snapped Mum. “Really, the standards of hygiene of some of these young girls—”
“Mum, I really don’t think talking about that kind of thing is going to help Jay feel better.”
Mum just glared at me.
“God, you two are as bad as each other!” Jay leaned forward, apparently for the express purpose of being able to collapse dramatically back onto his pillows. “You wear me out, you do. Stop worrying .”
I wasn’t sure who was more offended by the comparison—me or Mum.
“Anyway,” Jay went on into the stunned silence, “is Matt okay? In himself, I mean. He seemed a bit low last time I saw him, and then there’s the black eye and all.”
“Oh, that’s nearly disappeared now,” I said warmly, glad of the change of subject. “And I don’t know what you mean about him seeming low—he’s always really cheerful when I see him.”
“Yeah? That’s a relief. I’d been starting to wonder…so, no more accidents, then?”
“Well, no more visible bruising, if that’s what you mean. What did you mean, you were starting to wonder about Matt?”
“What? Nah, it’s nothing.” He laughed. “Got too much time to think here, that’s my trouble.”
I nodded solemnly. “You’ve never really been cut out for that, have you? Thinking, I mean.”
Jay threw a pillow at me. It was heading right for my nose, but I blocked instinctively, a perfect age-uke that sent it veering wildly off course—straight into Mum’s carefully arranged hairdo. Jay cracked up. “Oh, nice shot, Tim! Well done, my son!” Dad and I burst out laughing, and Mum tutted, looking daggers at me as she smoothed down her hair. Although I swear the pillow had just bounced off the lacquer, not shifting a hair out of place.
I wondered why I’d ever moved all the way up to London. It was so bloody good to be with my family again.
By the time I got home, the funny smell in the house had matured into a foul stench that threatened to sear my eyebrows off. A quick search revealed a festering puddle of mostly dried-in cat sick behind the sofa and prompted an even quicker search for a bucket and a gallon of disinfectant. At least the mystery of Wolverine’s earlier bad breath was now solved. I’d been planning to get a takeaway, but strangely my appetite seemed to have disappeared. I opened every downstairs window to try to clear the lingering reek and had a couple of slices of toast instead. Then I checked my phone, where I found seven messages from Kate, all saying “Call me!” with increasing degrees of urgency.
I rang her up at once, thoroughly alarmed. Was she ill? Had the house burned down? Had Alex revealed himself as a secret someone-else’s-wife-beater and all-round bastard? “Kate, what is it?” I asked as soon as she picked up.
“Tim? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been leaving messages at the house, at your mum’s—”
“I’m at Jay’s,” I said, frowning. “So what’s the problem?”
“Oh,” she said, sounding a bit deflated. “How is he?”
“Well, you know—well as can be expected.” I was still confused.
“Why? What’s happened?” The worried tone was back, and I realised in a flash she didn’t know about the accident—after all, why
“Bet you’d be all right with Matt jumping on you—”
My face was burning hot. Maybe he’d blame it on the stuffy hospital room. “Have you ever seen Misery ? Because I’m quite happy to stage a re-enactment of a certain scene—”
“Timothy!” Mum’s voice snapped in my ear. “Would you please try and remember your brother is very seriously injured? We’re all extremely worried about his operation.”
“Er, sorry.” I felt about five years old. “Um, is it really that big a deal?” I asked Jay.
“Nah. They’re just going to put a sort of framework in. They said it’ll feel a lot better when they’ve done it, and I’ll be able to walk on it sooner.”
“ If he doesn’t catch MRSA and lose it altogether,” snapped Mum. “Really, the standards of hygiene of some of these young girls—”
“Mum, I really don’t think talking about that kind of thing is going to help Jay feel better.”
Mum just glared at me.
“God, you two are as bad as each other!” Jay leaned forward, apparently for the express purpose of being able to collapse dramatically back onto his pillows. “You wear me out, you do. Stop worrying .”
I wasn’t sure who was more offended by the comparison—me or Mum.
“Anyway,” Jay went on into the stunned silence, “is Matt okay? In himself, I mean. He seemed a bit low last time I saw him, and then there’s the black eye and all.”
“Oh, that’s nearly disappeared now,” I said warmly, glad of the change of subject. “And I don’t know what you mean about him seeming low—he’s always really cheerful when I see him.”
“Yeah? That’s a relief. I’d been starting to wonder…so, no more accidents, then?”
“Well, no more visible bruising, if that’s what you mean. What did you mean, you were starting to wonder about Matt?”
“What? Nah, it’s nothing.” He laughed. “Got too much time to think here, that’s my trouble.”
I nodded solemnly. “You’ve never really been cut out for that, have you? Thinking, I mean.”
Jay threw a pillow at me. It was heading right for my nose, but I blocked instinctively, a perfect age-uke that sent it veering wildly off course—straight into Mum’s carefully arranged hairdo. Jay cracked up. “Oh, nice shot, Tim! Well done, my son!” Dad and I burst out laughing, and Mum tutted, looking daggers at me as she smoothed down her hair. Although I swear the pillow had just bounced off the lacquer, not shifting a hair out of place.
I wondered why I’d ever moved all the way up to London. It was so bloody good to be with my family again.
By the time I got home, the funny smell in the house had matured into a foul stench that threatened to sear my eyebrows off. A quick search revealed a festering puddle of mostly dried-in cat sick behind the sofa and prompted an even quicker search for a bucket and a gallon of disinfectant. At least the mystery of Wolverine’s earlier bad breath was now solved. I’d been planning to get a takeaway, but strangely my appetite seemed to have disappeared. I opened every downstairs window to try to clear the lingering reek and had a couple of slices of toast instead. Then I checked my phone, where I found seven messages from Kate, all saying “Call me!” with increasing degrees of urgency.
I rang her up at once, thoroughly alarmed. Was she ill? Had the house burned down? Had Alex revealed himself as a secret someone-else’s-wife-beater and all-round bastard? “Kate, what is it?” I asked as soon as she picked up.
“Tim? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been leaving messages at the house, at your mum’s—”
“I’m at Jay’s,” I said, frowning. “So what’s the problem?”
“Oh,” she said, sounding a bit deflated. “How is he?”
“Well, you know—well as can be expected.” I was still confused.
“Why? What’s happened?” The worried tone was back, and I realised in a flash she didn’t know about the accident—after all, why
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