Dot (22 page)

Alice had cooked an indeterminable stew and he ran upstairs to kiss Dot before eating. His daughter was lying on her back, her arms flung above her head, her head turned lazily to the side, her lips a perfect pout and her ginger hair fluffed against her pillow. She stirred when he kissed her fat cheek and for a moment he willed her to wake up so he could hold her in his arms.

‘I met a really nice woman today, on the swings on the green,’ Alice said as they started to eat. Clarice was watching TV in the sitting room and the sound of condensed voices drifted through. ‘She’s got a daughter called Mavis who’s the same age as Dot. She runs some playgroup or something at the village hall and she asked me to go.’

The gravy was pallid and weak and making Tony feel sick. ‘Are you going to?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

He felt annoyed at this. ‘I’ve been telling you to do something like that for ages.’

‘I know.’

‘It’d do you good to get out and meet a few other mothers.’

‘Yes.’ Alice was still eating; she never seemed to taste what she cooked. Tony wondered how she would appear to a group of mothers. He stabbed a piece of meat. When you got down to it, she had no real idea what life was about.

Donna from work tried to persuade him to go to a bar in town with them all, but he couldn’t see the point and got on to the bus like a good husband. The Hare and Hound twinkled welcomingly as he rounded the corner. If you were going to be the sort of man who went to the pub then it seemed crazy not to go on a Friday night. It was warm and noisy inside, busier than usual, which Tony presumed must be the new barmaid. He raised his hand in greeting to a few people and sat at what was becoming his usual stool at the bar, opening up his copy of
The Times
to see if he could finish the crossword.

‘What can I get you?’

Tony looked up and saw the new barmaid. ‘Pint of Guinness, please.’

He watched her pull it badly, the white head too big and spilling over the side. Her hand was shaking as she put it down and Simon bumped into her as he reached up for the nuts, making her trip, and the pint flowed over the bar on to Tony’s legs.

‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry,’ she said.

Tony caught her eye and saw tears sprinkled at the corners. ‘It’s fine, don’t be silly.’ He dabbed at the beer and his trousers with a bar towel. ‘I don’t think anyone else saw anyway.’

She smiled. ‘Thanks. I’ll get you another.’

The second was as bad as the first, but she didn’t spill it this time. ‘We haven’t been introduced yet,’ said Tony, holding out his hand over the bar, ‘you were pretty monopolised last night. Anyway, I’m Tony.’ Her hand was soft.

‘Silver.’

‘Silver?’

‘Yeah, I know, stupid, right?’

‘I wouldn’t say stupid, just unusual.’

‘Well, if you ever met my mother you’d understand why.’

‘You should be on stage with a name like that. What’s your surname?’

She laughed. ‘Sharpe.’

‘Christ.’ He laughed as well. ‘I can definitely see that on a poster: Silver Sharpe.’

She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘No posters for me, thanks.’

Tony watched her work her way round the bar, her nervousness evident with each customer. There was something unlikely about her which didn’t fit the way she looked, as if she was inhabiting the wrong skin or maybe just uneasy in it.

He spent the weekend at home, playing with Dot, chatting to Alice, being polite to Clarice. It was all fine unless he was on his own, when he would sometimes be overtaken by the sensation that the ground was swaying beneath him and his life was falling down a hole. He found it almost impossible to be present in anything more than body, watching himself interacting with this beautiful woman and child, marvelling over the colour of a leaf or running across the grass. This is amazing, he said to himself over and over, look at the life you have, what’s wrong with you, you stupid bastard. At night he lay awake next to Alice’s heavy breathing, staring into the blackness, trying to make out things he wasn’t even sure existed.

Tony avoided the pub on Monday and Tuesday and Alice seemed so pleased when he walked through the door on time and sober that he resolved never to go again. But then just before he left work on Wednesday he got a crying woman who railed at him because he wasn’t her daughter and Scott shouted out from the front of the room that he had the lowest bell-ringing tally and eleven people called him a cunt in the two hours before he left, which was a new record. He wasn’t going to go into the pub until he saw it – or maybe he was, maybe that’s where he’d always been heading.

Silver smiled when she saw him and he felt his shoulders loosen, felt the sickness lift from his chest and the band unwind round his head. He understood why he’d been avoiding the place. He went back on Thursday and Friday nights as well and Alice looked as if she was going to cry each time he came home late, making him hate himself. He stayed at home again over the weekend, but felt angry and restless, picking fights with Alice and failing to listen to Dot properly. On Sunday when he was pushing Dot on the swings on the green he saw Silver going into the Co-op and emerging with two filled plastic bags. He watched her walk down the road in her cheap plastic heels and imagined her in her own space, wondering what she ate, what music she listened to, what TV she watched, whom she spoke to, where she lived. He was struck by the knowledge that life is lived in so many different ways by all of us, that Silver no doubt had worlds of which he was unaware, and the thought knocked him off balance.

She wasn’t there on Monday night and Tony longed to ask Simon what had happened to her, but knew he couldn’t. He went home early and dreamt about her fucking a faceless man next to him in his bed. Alice told him he looked tired the next morning and he said he wasn’t feeling great.

He held back until Thursday evening, only to find Silver talking to some bloke he thought was called Gerry when he arrived and Tony had an insane urge to pull the man off his stool and pummel his fists into his smug face. The man’s laugh seemed to boom around the pub, his confidence rippling through the atmosphere. Simon served Tony his pint which he drank much too quickly so he ordered another. Finally Gerry got up and left and Silver saw him.

‘Hi, there,’ she said, ‘you OK?’

‘Fine.’ Tony couldn’t keep the gruffness out of his voice. It was ridiculous.

‘You don’t sound it. What’s up?’

‘Shit day. Take no notice of me.’

‘Right,’ she said, moving on down the bar, ‘I’ve had enough of those.’

Tony took his pint and went to sit in a corner. He was hungry and remembered he hadn’t eaten any lunch. The beer mixed with his gastric juices, rushing through his body. He ordered another pint from Simon, taking it back to his table without speaking to Silver, marvelling at his own stupidity but unable to stop himself. It was past ten now and he thought he’d rather sleep on the green than go home to Alice. He didn’t have anything to say to her.

Half an hour later his head was fuzzy and so he stumbled into the fresh air and sat on the bench on the green opposite the pub. He checked his watch a few times and didn’t admit to himself what he was doing. But eventually the last stragglers left and he could see Simon and Silver clearing the glasses and wiping down tables through the lighted windows. He was pleased to notice they did it almost in silence, exchanging a quick goodbye before the lights went off and Silver emerged, her coat done up to her chin and her stride purposeful. Tony stood up without knowing exactly what his plan was and followed her down the road. In the end there was very little option but to quicken his stride and come up behind her. He touched her lightly on the arm and she jumped away from him, letting out a little scream.

‘No, sorry, Silver, it’s just me, Tony.’

She peered up at him. ‘What the fuck are you doing creeping up behind me like that?’

‘Sorry.’

‘Bloody hell, don’t do that to me. You might live in a tiny little village, but where I come from you don’t want men coming up behind you in the dark.’

‘Sorry. I don’t come from here anyway. I’ve only lived here two years.’

Silver shifted her weight on to her hip. ‘Is that what you’ve stopped me to say at eleven-thirty at night?’

‘No.’ Tony looked at the sky and felt as if he was falling upwards through the stars. ‘I don’t really know why I stopped you. Truth is I can’t stop thinking about you.’

She spluttered at this. ‘Please.’

‘I know that sounds crap, but it’s true.’

Silver sighed. ‘When I was younger I used to think I was quite a good judge of character, but the last few years have shown me how far off the mark I am there and you’ve just proved it to me.’

‘What?’

‘I thought you were nice, Tony. I’ve seen you round the village with your wife and your daughter and then you come in the pub and you’re friendly without seeming like you want anything and now this.’

There was such a gap between what Tony meant and what he’d said, he pulled at his hair, not confident that he would ever get her to understand. ‘I know it looks shit. Christ, it is shit. But this isn’t me. Look, I’m not going to lie. I’ve got a great wife, but a shit marriage. And a daughter who I love more than anything else in the world. And I haven’t done anything like this before. But I can’t stop thinking about you.’

Her face was set hard, even in the dark. ‘And what do you think you’ll achieve by telling me that?’

He felt desperate enough to cry. ‘I don’t know.’

She turned away. ‘Go home to your family, Tony.’

He grabbed at her arm again. ‘No, please.’ It was only a second’s glance but their eyes met and Tony saw all he needed. ‘My God,’ he said.

‘No.’

‘Silver, please.’

‘Please what? I’m not that type of woman.’

‘I know. I’m not that type of man. Just meet me for coffee or something. Away from Druith. Please, just once.’

Silver wasn’t that type of woman, in fact she wasn’t like any woman that Tony had ever met before. She was only two years older than him but she seemed to have lived fifty lives already and cynicism ran through her veins. Her father had been an alcoholic like his own and her mother had been blasé about her existence. She’d married an unsuitable man too young who’d hit her twice and after the second time she’d packed a bag and got on a train and ended up in Cardiff. But it had been scary on her own there and so she’d started looking for jobs in the country and ended up in a hotel, where she’d met Simon and agreed to come and work for him in Druith, which seemed like exactly the sort of no-place she needed.

They became lovers quickly, making love on Silver’s creaky single bed in her studio flat on the edge of Druith in which they were as desperate as each other. When he was with her, Tony felt he could touch the stars. He liked to lie on her stomach, breathing her musty odour, tasting her at the back of his throat. And she would stroke his hair and laugh at the things he said.

‘I’m going to organise a party for Dot’s second birthday,’ Alice said one Sunday as they walked along the river.

Tony kicked a stone into the water. Ironically they’d got along much better since he’d met Silver. For one thing he didn’t go to the pub much any more, but also he found it easier to be kinder. ‘Really?’

‘I’ve met so many nice women at the playgroup. And Dot seems to enjoy playing with their children. I just thought tea or something.’

‘Sounds great.’ Dot ran across the grass in front of him and Tony felt a tightness in his chest, a sudden realisation that things could not continue in this way. He wanted to watch a child he had created with Silver. He wanted to take her home to meet the parents he hadn’t spoken to in years.

Tony said all of this to Silver when he next saw her. She didn’t want to take him away from Dot, but sometimes you don’t have a choice in these matters. They agreed to leave in the weeks after Dot’s birthday. Tony would start looking for a flat in Cartertown and Silver for a job. He’d explain everything to Alice and, although it would be hard and ugly for a while, ultimately she’d meet someone much better suited to her. He imagined a time when they’d all be friends. When he’d go to pick up Dot for the weekend and have a nice chat with Alice’s new husband and they’d look back on this time and maybe not laugh, but at least think they had been brave and right.

Alice was filled up with her plans for Dot’s party for the next two weeks, so much so that she didn’t notice when Tony spent more time than usual with Silver. Even Clarice seemed to have entered into the spirit of things and one evening Tony came home to find the two women huddled over a book, discussing recipes. Maybe they weren’t mad, he found himself thinking, just different and so removed from his own experience that he found it easier to let himself think that they were unhinged.

‘D’you want me to give Dot her bath?’ he asked.

‘Oh, would you?’ said Alice, turning her smile on him, which was still capable of taking his breath away.

Tony scooped his daughter into his arms, bounding up the wooden stairs as relatives who would never belong to him watched their every move. He ran the bath higher than Alice did and filled it with bubbles, shutting the door so that the steam filled the room. Tony hung his jacket over a chair, rolled up his sleeves, took off his tie and shoes and helped his podgy daughter out of her clothes. Her arms and legs were like pillows and her skin mottled as he placed her into the bath. She splashed at the water, clutching at the bubbles which dissolved in her hands, her fiery hair sticking to her scalp as it got wetter and wetter.

Tony knelt on the floor, resting his arms on the side of the bath and staring so intently at his daughter that he stopped seeing her; he started to doubt her reality. The thought rushed through him that his actions were going to affect her, that how he managed the next few weeks, months, years would determine the person she would one day become and the responsibility seemed awesome.

‘I love you, Dot,’ he said.

She looked up and smiled. ‘I love you, Daddy.’ She reached over to him, chasing the tears he was crying down his cheeks with her fingers.