Another Life Altogether (39 page)

“Uncle Ted!” I said, beaming as I opened the door to see him standing before me, wreathed in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Hello, Jesse, love,” he said, sticking his cigarette between his lips, putting a big arm around me, and giving me a kiss on my cheek. Then he stepped back to regard me. “By heck, you’ve grown,” he said, the cigarette, propped in the corner of his mouth, jiggling about as he spoke. “What they’ve been feeding you round here, rocket fuel? That’d certainly make you shoot up, eh?” He took the cigarette from his lips and let out a deep bass laugh that shuddered through my chest and echoed down the hallway. As he laughed, I studied his face. He looked a lot older than I remembered him. He was still handsome and his blue eyes had that same mischievous glow, but his greased-back hair was graying at the temples and the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth had molded themselves more firmly into his face. He was fatter, too, so that
while his face looked older it also seemed softer and slightly puffy, as if it had been filled with air and then deflated slightly—like the shrunken surface of an old party balloon.

“What’s that?” I asked, indicating the enormous swath of flecked brown fur slung over his shoulder.

“This? Oh, just a little something I picked up for your mam’s birthday.”

“But that was months ago.” My mother’s birthday was in November. We hadn’t had much of a celebration. Though I’d made a cake and my father had bought her a bunch of flowers, my mother had refused to come downstairs. Instead, she lay under her huge mound of blankets complaining that Grandma hadn’t sent her even a birthday card and that if a mother couldn’t remember her own daughter’s birthday, then the world was in a far worse state than she’d ever imagined and it certainly wasn’t worth getting out of bed.

“I know it was months ago,” Ted huffed. “But I was in the nick then, wasn’t I? So I thought I’d get her something now. It’s a coat. It’s real fox fur, you know. Here, feel it.” He pushed one of the folds of the coat toward me.

I brushed my hand over the fur. It was extraordinarily soft. “It feels nice,” I said. But then I pulled my hand away. “Don’t they trap and kill the foxes? Isn’t it really cruel?”

The subject had come up in one of my recent English lessons, and Ms. Hastings had said that it was ridiculous that animals should suffer so that people could wear their dead skins. She’d also told us that because she was against cruelty to animals she was a vegetarian, a revelation that Tracey and the Debbies found hilarious. Later in the corridor, when they’d joked about buying Ms. Hastings a bag of rabbit food, I’d said that, really, it wasn’t all that funny and that perhaps she had a point. Accompanied by a chorus of laughter from the Debbies, Tracey had responded that perhaps they should buy me a bag of rabbit food as well.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Jesse,” Ted said. “Don’t you start. I’ve had your
bloody dad lecturing me about fox hunting and the debauched upper classes ever since he picked me up. Though what that’s got to do with fur coats I’ve no bloody idea. Anyway, where’s your mam? I can’t wait to see her face when I hand her this.”

“She’s in the kitchen, having a cup of tea with Auntie Mabel and Frank—that’s Auntie Mabel’s boyfriend.”

Ted’s face dropped. “Oh, no,” he muttered. “Not our bloody Mabel. I was hoping to avoid her for at least a few days.” He exhaled a long stream of smoke, tossed the cigarette onto the path, and marched into the house. It was wet outside, and I watched the cigarette land on the path, fizzle, and die before I turned and scrambled after him.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Evelyn …” Ted’s tuneless voiced boomed down the hallway. When he reached the kitchen, he pushed open the door and concluded, “happy birthday to you.” He pulled the fox-fur coat from his shoulder and, holding it out to my mother, made a bowing gesture and announced, “Your carriage awaits, madam.”

“Ted!” My mother leaped from her chair and rushed across the room. “Oh, Ted,” she said, taking the coat from him, holding it against her cheek and nuzzling her face into it. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Here, why don’t you put it on?” Ted took the coat from my mother and eased it over her shoulders. My mother wriggled her arms into the sleeves and did a little twirl in the middle of the kitchen.

“Makes you look like a film star, Ev,” he said.

“You think so?” my mother asked breathily as she ran her hands over the coat.

“’Course I do.”

My mother pulled a troubled frown. “Is it real?”

“Real?” Ted looked put out. “Of course it’s bloody real. One hundred percent genuine bloody fox fur.”

At this, Mabel, who’d been sitting silently at the kitchen table with Frank, laughed. “More like one hundred percent squirrel fur, I should think,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, and I suppose you’re an expert on fur coats, Mabel,” Ted said.

“No, but I’m an expert on you. And either there’s something wrong with that coat or there’s something very dodgy about its history. Where’d you get it from, anyway? Nicked it, did you?”

“Bloody hell, Mabel. Of course I didn’t nick it—”

“What, walk into the women’s department in Hammonds and buy it for Evelyn, then, did you?”

“Well, no … I mean, who can afford to get anything from Hammonds? Mate of mine sold it to me.”

“Oh, yeah, and this mate, where’d he get it from?”

“I don’t know—I expect he picked it up somewhere.”

“Oh,” said Mabel, making her eyes wide. “Picked it up somewhere, did he? Found it on the street, did he? Just happened upon it as he was walking along Hessle Road? ‘Oh, look,’ he says, ‘there’s a fur coat—I think I’ll take that home and sell it to my mate Ted.’” She laughed. “God, Ted, you think I was born yesterday?”

“No, Mabel,” Ted said, pausing to light a cigarette, “‘course I don’t think you were born yesterday. Let’s face it, you’re a bit too wrinkly for that.”

“Ooh, I’ll smack you, I really will,” Mabel said, shaking a fist in his direction.

“You’re only jealous.” My mother, who had been absorbed in running her hands over the coat’s smooth surface, piped up.

“What do you mean?” Mabel narrowed her eyes.

“I mean you’re jealous. If Ted turned up with a fox-fur coat for you, you wouldn’t say a word. But because he brought it for me—well, you can’t stand it, can you?”

“Rubbish,” Mabel huffed. “I’m just tired of him getting himself involved in all this malarkey. Receiving stolen property, burglary, petty theft. Christ! Surely you should know better by now.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mabel. I only brought our Ev a coat. It’s not like I showed up with the takings from the local Barclays Bank, is it?”

“Same thing, you ask me,” Mabel said. “I told Mike and Ev that I think they’re mad taking you in like this.”

“And I’m very grateful, I really am. And what better way to show my gratitude than by bringing Evelyn a nice present?”

“I’m warning you, Ted,” Mabel said, wagging a finger at him. “Evelyn and Mike have enough on their plate. And they’ve been generous enough to give you an opportunity to finally set yourself straight. You cause any trouble while you’re here and I swear, I will never, ever speak to you again.” She paused as if to let this last comment sink in. “I mean it, Ted, I really do.”

“Bloody hell, Mabel. I’ve not been here five minutes and you’re giving me a lecture.”

“And you’ve not been two days out of jail and you’re bringing home stolen property.”

“I don’t want you to go to prison again, Uncle Ted,” I said, going over to him and tugging on his arm. All this talk about Ted’s illicit activity was making me nervous. I wanted him to stay, but I also wanted him to stay out of trouble, and I certainly didn’t want his presence to jeopardize the sliver of stability we had in our home.

“Oh, don’t you worry, love,” Ted said, patting my hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hah, that’s a laugh, that is. You carry on like this,” Mabel said, gesturing toward my mother in her fox-fur coat, “and as sure as the sky is blue and the grass is green you’ll be back in the nick before Easter.”

“Sky’s gray today,” said Ted. “Matter of fact, sky’s mostly gray in England.”

“Yes, well gray, blue, or pink, you’ll not be seeing much of it if you don’t change your ways.”

“You should take the coat back, Uncle Ted,” I said. “What?” Ted looked at me incredulously.

“You should take it back. That way, you won’t get into trouble and you won’t go back to jail.” I wanted the fur coat out of the house. With
its lavish softness and rippling folds, it obviously didn’t belong here. My mother didn’t look like a film star when she wore it; she looked absurd. And, as Ms. Hastings had said, nobody needed to wear dead animals. “You should take it back, Uncle Ted,” I repeated.

My mother, pulled from the rapture of stroking her coat, snapped, “Shut up, Jesse.”

“No,” Mabel said, “Jesse’s right. He should take that coat back. And if he had any decency about him he wouldn’t have brought it here in the first place.”

“Oh, come on, now, Mabel,” Frank said, reaching out to place his hand on Mabel’s arm. Until now, he’d sat silent, watching the discussion attentively. “The lad’s only just stepped in the door. Give him a break. There’s no harm done. And Evelyn looks lovely in her new coat. Ted’s right, she does look like a film star.” At this, my mother beamed appreciatively at Frank, then turned to Mabel to give her a satisfied little nod. “Besides,” Frank continued, “you haven’t even introduced the two of us.”

“I’m sorry, Frank, love. You’re right.” Mabel looked at Ted and pulled a taut smile. “Ted, this is my fella, Frank. Frank, this is my brother, Ted.”

Frank rose and made his way across the kitchen. “Very nice to meet you, Ted,” he said. I stood beside Ted as Frank extended his hand.

Ted put his cigarette in his mouth and reached out. “Thanks for calling the dogs off,” he said, shaking Frank’s hand enthusiastically.

“Anytime, Ted,” Frank said, slapping him gently on the back. “But you know what women are like. They worry too much.” He smiled at Mabel and gave her a wink. Then he lowered his voice and adopted a more confidential tone. “Don’t you worry about Mabel. I’m sure you know what you’re doing. That’s a bloody nice coat. Must be worth a fortune. Expect you need some good contacts to be able to acquire quality merchandise like that.”

As Frank spoke, my father pushed his way into the kitchen. “Bloody hell, Ted,” he said breathlessly. “What the heck have you got in them cases of yours? Lead weights?”

“No, it’s just my stuff,” Ted began to explain. “I’d been storing it over at my mate’s house and—”

“Oh, Mike,” Mabel said, “don’t say he’s got you lugging his flipping luggage around for him? Ted, you lazy bugger, you should be doing that yourself. I hope you don’t think you’re going to carry on like this, do you? Because the sooner you get yourself off your lazy backside and—”

“Oh, come on, love, give the lad a break,” Frank said. “He’s only just got home. And Mike doesn’t mind carrying Ted’s luggage in, do you, Mike?”

“Well,” my father said, dropping into one of the empty chairs at the kitchen table, “to be honest, it would have been nice if—”

“Let’s face it, you’ve got to help family out when they need you,” Frank interrupted. “Family is, after all, the most important thing we’ve got. Speaking of family,” Frank said, adopting a grandiose tone, “Mabel and I have got an announcement to make, haven’t we, Mabel?”

“Yes, yes we have.” Mabel patted her hair and beamed around the kitchen.

I realized then that what Frank had told me upstairs earlier was true. He and Mabel were getting married.

“What sort of announcement?” my mother asked, her eyes moving suspiciously between Mabel and Frank.

“Well—” Frank began, puffing out his scrawny chest.

“They’re getting married,” I said flatly. I felt a moment of intense satisfaction as Frank’s chest deflated and his face rumpled in annoyance. There was something immensely pleasurable about taking the wind out of his sails like that. Still, it didn’t change the fact that I’d have to put up with his poisonous presence on a long-term basis. One thing I did know for certain, though: I would never call him “Uncle Frank.”

“Married?” my mother said, pulling her coat protectively around her. “You’re getting married?” She sounded stung.

“Yes, Evelyn, we’re getting married,” Mabel said, taking out a cigarette and searching around for her lighter.

“By heck,” Ted said, grinning broadly. “That’s a ruddy turnup for the
books. Our Mabel getting married, who’d have thought it?” He slapped Frank across the back, the impact of his hand sounding a hollow thud and making Frank stagger forward several steps across the kitchen. “Congratulations, Frank! That’s champion, that is. Just hope you don’t live to regret it.” He bellowed out a laugh.

Mabel looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“Only joking, Mabel,” Ted said, lifting his hands as if in surrender. “Really, I think it’s smashing news. About time someone had the courage to make an honest woman of you.”

“Yes, congratulations, Frank, Mabel,” my father said. “That’s terrific news, isn’t it, Evelyn?”

Everyone turned toward her, and for a long moment the room seemed airless, still and filled with expectation. I watched my mother, half hoping that she would start screaming at Frank, yell at him that she didn’t want a brother-in-law who wandered naked around her sister’s house, who brought her ridiculous gifts of sausages, who was a shameless degenerate who had divorced his wife and abandoned his children. Though it was a slim hope, maybe my mother’s dismissal of him might make Mabel see some sense. On the other hand, if my mother became as upset by Mabel’s impending marriage as she had by Grandma’s, then it could send her back to languishing in bed, or worse. Barely breathing, I waited for her reaction.

Swaddled in her massive fox-fur coat, for once my mother’s physical presence seemed to match her emotional impact on the room. “Married?” she said again.

“That’s right,” Mabel said, striking a light and putting the flame to her cigarette. She took a drag, puffed out the smoke, and looked steadily at my mother. “Married,” she said firmly.

“When?” my mother asked.