was going to ask if he could come and live with me, and when he asked instead if I could take
Molly for a while I was so relieved that I immediately said yes.
Carl asked me if I was a dog person or a cat person. Neither, I replied, which are you? Both, he said. And then he told me about Scooby, the dog he and his brother had when
they were growing up. They loved him dearly from when he was a tiny puppy, but Scooby was a greedy dog and used to eat scraps of food he found on his walks. One day, Scooby found some chicken on
the pavement and wolfed it down before Carl could stop him. A bone got stuck in Scooby’s throat and he started choking. A small crowd gathered and people were telling Carl what to do, and
Carl, who was only twelve and couldn’t reach the bone, started getting upset. A man stepped forward, burly, lifted Scooby up and with both arms around his chest, and Scooby’s little
legs sticking straight out in front like table legs, this man performed the Heimlich manoeuvre and the chicken bone flew out of Scooby’s mouth in an arc of spittle. The crowd cheered as the
bone hit the pavement and Carl thanked the man and carried his confused dog home. Unfortunately it turned out the man had broken two of Scooby’s ribs, and although the vet said the ribs would
mend, the dog went into a decline and died.
On the last morning at Carl’s mother’s house, I was so ready to leave. I packed up my things, which didn’t take long, went outside and smoked what I
hoped would be the last of the cheap cigarettes. I went back inside the house to extract Carl. Our Kid was in his pyjamas, which made me want to get out of there even faster. Just before we left, I
went to the bathroom and when I came out, Carl took his wallet out of his back pocket, took out several banknotes, folded them and passed them to Our Kid, who thanked him shyly.
I couldn’t help thinking that Our Kid’s shyness was partly due to me witnessing this transaction, and I wished that Carl had given Our Kid the money while I was in the bathroom. I
felt sure that alongside Carl’s real interest in Our Kid was his awareness of himself being interested in his brother; that alongside his real concern there was awareness of himself being
generous, and that he also had a desire that he perhaps wasn’t so aware of, which was to demonstrate this generosity in front of other people, in this case, me.
Our director called us both into his office and asked whether we were having an affair. He said it straight, like this: Are you two having an affair? I felt myself turn red in
the face. Carl looked straight back at the director, held his gaze, and said, Nope. Now there was a stand-off between the two men: the director knew very well there was something going on between
us and Carl knew that he was answering the question correctly because the affair was over by then. We were, I said, but it’s finished. It felt awkward saying this to the director in front of
Carl because although the affair was over, Carl had been coming to my house at night, knocking on my front door, shouting through the letterbox, leaving messages on my answerphone, and
making a horrible atmosphere at work. As I said the word ‘finished’, Carl pulled himself up taller, as if meeting a challenge. It’s none of your fucking business anyway, said
Carl, under his breath.
Excuse me? said the director, but he’d heard.
I said it’s not really any of your business, is it? What we do in our own time?
Correct. But it is my business what you do in work time. The director went on to give examples of misconduct which were so mild compared to some of the things we’d done on company time,
with company money, in company cars, that I suddenly felt more relieved than embarrassed. We had got away with it, or at least I had.
The reason Carl didn’t ask if he could live with me was because he had already asked me for keys to my flat and I had ignored the request. I had been in the office
Molly for a while I was so relieved that I immediately said yes.
Carl asked me if I was a dog person or a cat person. Neither, I replied, which are you? Both, he said. And then he told me about Scooby, the dog he and his brother had when
they were growing up. They loved him dearly from when he was a tiny puppy, but Scooby was a greedy dog and used to eat scraps of food he found on his walks. One day, Scooby found some chicken on
the pavement and wolfed it down before Carl could stop him. A bone got stuck in Scooby’s throat and he started choking. A small crowd gathered and people were telling Carl what to do, and
Carl, who was only twelve and couldn’t reach the bone, started getting upset. A man stepped forward, burly, lifted Scooby up and with both arms around his chest, and Scooby’s little
legs sticking straight out in front like table legs, this man performed the Heimlich manoeuvre and the chicken bone flew out of Scooby’s mouth in an arc of spittle. The crowd cheered as the
bone hit the pavement and Carl thanked the man and carried his confused dog home. Unfortunately it turned out the man had broken two of Scooby’s ribs, and although the vet said the ribs would
mend, the dog went into a decline and died.
On the last morning at Carl’s mother’s house, I was so ready to leave. I packed up my things, which didn’t take long, went outside and smoked what I
hoped would be the last of the cheap cigarettes. I went back inside the house to extract Carl. Our Kid was in his pyjamas, which made me want to get out of there even faster. Just before we left, I
went to the bathroom and when I came out, Carl took his wallet out of his back pocket, took out several banknotes, folded them and passed them to Our Kid, who thanked him shyly.
I couldn’t help thinking that Our Kid’s shyness was partly due to me witnessing this transaction, and I wished that Carl had given Our Kid the money while I was in the bathroom. I
felt sure that alongside Carl’s real interest in Our Kid was his awareness of himself being interested in his brother; that alongside his real concern there was awareness of himself being
generous, and that he also had a desire that he perhaps wasn’t so aware of, which was to demonstrate this generosity in front of other people, in this case, me.
Our director called us both into his office and asked whether we were having an affair. He said it straight, like this: Are you two having an affair? I felt myself turn red in
the face. Carl looked straight back at the director, held his gaze, and said, Nope. Now there was a stand-off between the two men: the director knew very well there was something going on between
us and Carl knew that he was answering the question correctly because the affair was over by then. We were, I said, but it’s finished. It felt awkward saying this to the director in front of
Carl because although the affair was over, Carl had been coming to my house at night, knocking on my front door, shouting through the letterbox, leaving messages on my answerphone, and
making a horrible atmosphere at work. As I said the word ‘finished’, Carl pulled himself up taller, as if meeting a challenge. It’s none of your fucking business anyway, said
Carl, under his breath.
Excuse me? said the director, but he’d heard.
I said it’s not really any of your business, is it? What we do in our own time?
Correct. But it is my business what you do in work time. The director went on to give examples of misconduct which were so mild compared to some of the things we’d done on company time,
with company money, in company cars, that I suddenly felt more relieved than embarrassed. We had got away with it, or at least I had.
The reason Carl didn’t ask if he could live with me was because he had already asked me for keys to my flat and I had ignored the request. I had been in the office
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