time,’ she laughs, echoing Niall’s words to me when we met in the gym. She pulls a sour smile. ‘I didn’t have to follow you, Niall. Claudia uses this place all the time. She saw you two lovebirds come in and she phoned me. Why? Is it a problem? Goodness, you haven’t been avoiding me, have you? By any chance?’
Niall looks at me with a pain-stricken face. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this. I hope this confrontation hasn’t elevated your pain levels.’
Lorraine demands his attention. ‘Never mind about her pain levels, worry about your own.’
‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Well I’ve got a lot to say to you.’
Niall and Lorraine are edging slowly away from me, towards the back of the hotel, so they can swear at each other without upsetting their son. Lorraine flings herself on a couch near the restaurant, and Niall paces angrily in front of her, back and forth. I can guess their conversation is about money or, specifically, maintenance, but in case there’s any doubt, Lorraine leans forward, puts her hand up to Niall’s face and rubs her thumb and first finger together.
I suddenly realise I’m left alone with Peter. I sit down, not too close, but not too near. You hear stories of adults being accused of all sorts of things. But Peter has no such reservations. He trots over to me. ‘Do you like tigers?’ he says.
‘Oh I love —’
‘Rarr!’ he says abruptly, before I have a chance to finish, curling his tiny hands into talons. He finds this very funny. He tells me it’s a joke he’s learned from Kevin in playschool.
‘They can kill you.’
‘Oh, certainly.’
‘I think tigers are awesome. Kevin likes them too.’
He advances on me, holding a big squishy book with a tiger on it. ‘Here you go.’ He puts the book on my lap, then clambers up to join it.
Oh Christ fuck fuck fuck fuck
. My body screams.
I can’t take this. I can’t take this. This is too much for me.
But I don’t put Peter on the floor. I can no more put the child down than I can wish away my pain. I read him the story about the tiger, twice, while the pain paces around my hips in a wide circle and snarls to the world. I look nervously across to the receptionist, but she just smiles back at us. Obviously she saw Niall with me, Peter with his mummy, Niall with Peter, and she’s assumed I’m some friend of the family or a child-minding aunt.
I can hear the conversation between Niall and Lorraine, even though it is being exchanged in snarled whispers. It’s the drugs. I just can’t help it.
Niall’s been a naughty boy about child support, says Lorraine. Niall counters by saying he knows damn well she’s seeing someone, so why can’t he dip into his pocket? Why can’t he make an honest woman out of her, and pay for Peter’s clothes and shoes? She says it’s none of his damn business, and Niall should man up, take responsibility for his child, and stop whining.
After ten minutes, Lorraine notices Peter is on my lap, and her face contorts into maternal outrage. She struggles to her feet and totters towards me as fast as her Manolo Blahniks will allow.
‘I have to go,’ I say to Peter.
‘OK,’ says Peter, not that bothered.
‘See you.’ I smile, and I pat Peter on the head. ‘Thanks for sharing your book, Peter.’
‘It’s not my book,’ he says pityingly. ‘I found it on the table. They have it for the babies to read.’
‘Well, thank you for sharing the hotel’s book,’ I say. ‘It’s just a big shame that you don’t like tigers.’
‘But I do like —’
‘Rarr!’ I say, curling my fingers into talons before he finishes. And he giggles hysterically. He is still giggling when his mother gets to him, and I’m on the other side of the hotel’s revolving door.
Monica
I’m sitting back, keeping my breathing steady, mustering up the strength to drive home.
Thank God for automatic cars.
I’m thinking about little Peter; about his tiny
Niall looks at me with a pain-stricken face. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this. I hope this confrontation hasn’t elevated your pain levels.’
Lorraine demands his attention. ‘Never mind about her pain levels, worry about your own.’
‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Well I’ve got a lot to say to you.’
Niall and Lorraine are edging slowly away from me, towards the back of the hotel, so they can swear at each other without upsetting their son. Lorraine flings herself on a couch near the restaurant, and Niall paces angrily in front of her, back and forth. I can guess their conversation is about money or, specifically, maintenance, but in case there’s any doubt, Lorraine leans forward, puts her hand up to Niall’s face and rubs her thumb and first finger together.
I suddenly realise I’m left alone with Peter. I sit down, not too close, but not too near. You hear stories of adults being accused of all sorts of things. But Peter has no such reservations. He trots over to me. ‘Do you like tigers?’ he says.
‘Oh I love —’
‘Rarr!’ he says abruptly, before I have a chance to finish, curling his tiny hands into talons. He finds this very funny. He tells me it’s a joke he’s learned from Kevin in playschool.
‘They can kill you.’
‘Oh, certainly.’
‘I think tigers are awesome. Kevin likes them too.’
He advances on me, holding a big squishy book with a tiger on it. ‘Here you go.’ He puts the book on my lap, then clambers up to join it.
Oh Christ fuck fuck fuck fuck
. My body screams.
I can’t take this. I can’t take this. This is too much for me.
But I don’t put Peter on the floor. I can no more put the child down than I can wish away my pain. I read him the story about the tiger, twice, while the pain paces around my hips in a wide circle and snarls to the world. I look nervously across to the receptionist, but she just smiles back at us. Obviously she saw Niall with me, Peter with his mummy, Niall with Peter, and she’s assumed I’m some friend of the family or a child-minding aunt.
I can hear the conversation between Niall and Lorraine, even though it is being exchanged in snarled whispers. It’s the drugs. I just can’t help it.
Niall’s been a naughty boy about child support, says Lorraine. Niall counters by saying he knows damn well she’s seeing someone, so why can’t he dip into his pocket? Why can’t he make an honest woman out of her, and pay for Peter’s clothes and shoes? She says it’s none of his damn business, and Niall should man up, take responsibility for his child, and stop whining.
After ten minutes, Lorraine notices Peter is on my lap, and her face contorts into maternal outrage. She struggles to her feet and totters towards me as fast as her Manolo Blahniks will allow.
‘I have to go,’ I say to Peter.
‘OK,’ says Peter, not that bothered.
‘See you.’ I smile, and I pat Peter on the head. ‘Thanks for sharing your book, Peter.’
‘It’s not my book,’ he says pityingly. ‘I found it on the table. They have it for the babies to read.’
‘Well, thank you for sharing the hotel’s book,’ I say. ‘It’s just a big shame that you don’t like tigers.’
‘But I do like —’
‘Rarr!’ I say, curling my fingers into talons before he finishes. And he giggles hysterically. He is still giggling when his mother gets to him, and I’m on the other side of the hotel’s revolving door.
Monica
I’m sitting back, keeping my breathing steady, mustering up the strength to drive home.
Thank God for automatic cars.
I’m thinking about little Peter; about his tiny
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