Untouchable Things (28 page)

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Authors: Tara Guha

BOOK: Untouchable Things
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“It’s beautiful.”

There were two figures in the centre holding hands, labelled José and Carmen in calligraphic writing.

Rebecca smiled. “Just like the Royal Wedding mug my mum has.”

“Exactly.”

“Who’s Carmen then?”

José didn’t answer at first.

“And what about these two oldies here?” There were two small figures in the background looking at the young couple proudly. Surely they must be his parents.

“I’d say this is the key person.”

Seth pointed to the dark figure of a young man Rebecca hadn’t noticed peering out from a hedge. When she flicked her eyes back she saw the figure of José was looking at him. The significance began to dawn on her.

“This is a story of my life in Spain,” said José quietly.

No one spoke for a minute.

“Carmen and I were going to get married. Our parents decided when we were children.”

Charles blew out air in a low whistle. José shrugged.

“It was like that there. A small town, you did what was expected of you. She was lovely, pretty, kind, everything a boy could wish for. Except a boy like me. We dated for three years.” His voice became harsh. “I went to the local park at night.” He looked round. Rebecca dropped her eyes as she realised what he meant. “Of course I knew I had to get away. I was outed in National Service when they found me together with someone. It was hell. But at least my parents never found out.”

Anna squeezed his hand and he flashed her a fleeting smile. “Anna’s heard all this before.”

“I don’t mind hearing it again, though. It’s nice to hear you talk about your old life.”

“Nice.” He shrugged. “My mother was heartbroken when Carmen and I broke up. I’d never even touched her. All the mothers thought I was such a good boy, such a gentleman.” He laughed.

“How did she react when she found out?” The question was quite direct for Catherine.

José laughed again. “Found out? She has no idea I’m gay. It would kill her. My dad too. No, Mama phones up every Sunday to ask if I’ve found a nice girl yet. At first she insisted on a Spanish girl, then it was okay as long as she was Catholic… Now, I think she’d just be happy to hear I’d met anybody. Anybody female, I mean.” His eyes moved over Seth.

“Do you think she’s guessed?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know if she can imagine such a thing. But my brother knows. He guessed five years ago.”

“The brother who came over in June?”

“Yes, Juan. He wants me to tell Mama and Papa. But I can’t. The shame would be too much. So I avoid going home and they can’t afford to come here.”

Rebecca ran her index finger over the plate. “That’s really sad. Your hometown looks beautiful.”

“It is. These are the colours I think of when I picture it. I tried to capture the light as it strikes the stone but I haven’t really succeeded.” He looked out of the window. “Sometimes the greyness here drives me crazy.”

“I’ve got it.” Anna’s jaunty tone struck an odd note and everyone looked at her. She had two bands of smudged mascara under bloodshot eyes and was still on the vodka. A thick lycra-encased roll of flesh bulged above her pelvis. “Let’s all go to Spain. This summer. We’ll be your moral support – we’ll stay in a local guesthouse and your parents will see what great friends you have, and we’ll all wander around being inspired by the light and the colours.”

José smiled and shook his head.

“Come on, it’s a great idea. I’d love to meet your parents and I’m sure everyone would love a Spanish holiday – wouldn’t you?”

People made vague, non-committal noises. Anna sat up in her chair.

“You
know
you’ve got to do it, José. What are you – twenty-seven? Do you want twenty-seven more years of lying to them?”

“Anna…”

She brushed aside the warning noises coming from Michael and Charles. “You need to get over your fecking Catholic guilt, man. And it might not be as bad as you think. They probably won’t blow up so much if we’re all there.”

“And after that perhaps we’ll all go over to Ireland and meet your family, Anna.” Seth’s voice was quiet but clear.

Anna put a hand to her face as if she’d been slapped. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“I mean that while we’re talking about José facing his demons maybe we should consider yours too. How’s your father these days?” Seth’s face was expressionless.

José put out a hand. “It’s okay, Seth.”

“You bastard. What do you know about anything?” Anna swayed for a second and ran out of the room, cape fluttering in her wake. The bathroom door slammed. Everyone looked at Seth.

“My mistake. Talk amongst yourselves.” He left the room, closing the door carefully behind him.

They came back in fifteen minutes later, Anna sniffing and blotchy but smiling. “Sorry, everyone, too much vodka.” She went to José and gave him a hug. Jake got up.

“Let’s have a drink. I was thinking hot chocolate and marshmallows.”

The suggestion divided the room. “Think I’d rather go for a beer, old chap. We can pretend it’s ginger beer if that makes you feel better.”

“Well, for real men like yourself, Charles, I was going to lace the hot chocolate with brandy.”

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Brandy, you say? Go on, you’ve never let me down yet.”

Rebecca took the first opportunity she had to go over to Anna. “You okay, love?” She touched her arm.

“Yeah, it’s all been a bit heavy, this childhood stuff.”

“I know what you mean. Saves on the therapy bill, though.”

Anna smiled, not her usual smile. “Tell me about it. I’ve just yelled at Seth for trying to be my therapist.” There was a slight pause. “Anyway, it’s my turn for the couch now. Wish me luck.”

Anna clutched an orange Sainsbury’s carrier bag. “This is the first time I’ve ever joined in properly with the group. Now I know how nerve-wracking it is.” Her hands shook slightly as she pulled out a furry bundle and opened it out. It looked like some sort of dog costume.

“I was going to make a surprise entrance in this, but I’ve spared you.” Smiles all round. “School play, 1974. Even then I acted the bitch.” Her joke sounded rehearsed, forced. She fingered the floppy ears. “We love dressing up in our family. Me and my brothers would try to outdo each other. Pa too, sometimes. I was going to show you a load of cracking photos.” A pause and no sign of photographs. “I wanted to make you laugh.” She looked down and tugged at the costume on her knee. “My mam made this one. She died thirteen years ago. I suppose I was nearly an adult by then but – I didn’t feel like it. At the time I said I wished it had been a Dalmatian costume. I remember that. I don’t even think I said thank you.” Her voice climbed. “Now I look and I see all these tiny, perfect stitches and all the hours Mam put into it. But it’s too late to say thank you.” She started to cry, burying her face in the costume. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

José put his arms over her and rested his dark head on Anna’s shoulder. Rebecca caught Catherine’s eye and saw a film of tears that matched her own.

“I just can’t bear it that she died. I can’t bear it. We hardly noticed her and she did all these things for us and I wanted to show you how creative she was, making this costume…” It was hard to pick out the words. “I just miss her so much, I miss her and I’ll never get her back.”

There was a crescendo of sobbing that gradually started to ease. José kissed Anna’s hair and wiped his eyes. Seth sat silently watching Anna. She lifted her head and looked for him; he held out his arms then and she went to him, sobbing again. Jake left the room and came back holding a glass of amber spirit. “Fuck the hot chocolate.” Catherine frowned; for once Rebecca was with her. A glass of water would help more.

Anna gulped it down in one, gasped and giggled. “Hey, are you trying to get me pissed?”

He winked. “Not me. Though I have to admit there was a trace of vodka in the orange squash.”

“Now you tell me!” A collective relieved laugh ran round the room.

Seth patted Anna’s knee. “Well, by my calculation there’s only Charles and myself left. Unless you’ve got another surprise for us, Jake?”

“I have actually. But it will come out a bit later.”

“What, after the watershed?” Anna grinned. She seemed to be loosening up towards Jake.

“In your dreams, love.”

“Easy now, you two. Charles, shall we toss for it?
No
, Anna, don’t even think about it.”

“Just a minute.” Catherine had sat forward on her chair. “I was – well, I’d like to do something else if that’s okay.” She twisted her hands. “After seeing what other people have shared – well, I’d like to share something too.” She looked for a second at Anna, then at Seth.

“Of course.”

She walked to the piano stool and sat on the edge. “I haven’t played this for fifteen years and I’m not even sure I can remember it. It was my dad’s favourite piece. I mean, that makes him sound like he’s dead.” She swallowed. “In some ways it feels like he is. This was his favourite, before he stopped playing and everything went… bad in our house.”

Rebecca felt a flash of curiosity as she watched the fragile-looking figure at the piano. When she started it was strangely tentative, childlike and unpolished. She made a couple of mistakes, but Rebecca had never felt more touched by her playing. As Catherine went back to the sofa, Anna stood up to hug her, then pulled her down next to her. The unexpected was certainly happening. She saw Seth watching them, leaning back with a cigarette. Perhaps this was something to do with his experiment.

Scene 20

So Mr Gardner succeeded in bringing you all closer, would you say, Miss Laurence?

Yes, by stripping away the layers, the stuff we hide under. He did a beautiful thing. Charles told us about his sister.

His sister?

“Forgive my amateur drawing skills.” Charles put a pastel sketch on the coffee table. It showed an emaciated girl looking at her obese, distorted reflection in the mirror. The title was
Sarah x 2
.

“My sister. You’ve probably heard about her. She developed anorexia when I was twelve.” His voice sounded as though it was coming from far away. “She still struggles.”

The famous sister.

“She was in and out of hospital for years. I knew she needed to eat more but I didn’t really understand. I used to make her sandwiches when we got in from school.” He looked down at his hands, opened his palms in a gesture of helplessness. “I still do it. Try to feed her up.”

Did Mr Gardner comment at all?

Seth? I don’t really remember. I think he put a hand on his shoulder or something but I don’t think Charles wanted that. He’s a private person. It probably cost him quite a lot to tell us what he did.

“She’s lucky to have a brother like you.” Catherine echoed Rebecca’s thoughts.

“Is she? I try my best. I try to make it all better, but I can’t.” He shook his head. “She’s a perfectionist, that’s what the doctors say. Apparently it’s really common in high achievers. She was always twice as talented as me. And then this illness comes and strips it all away.” His eyes were wells of sadness.

“Is she getting professional help?”

He cleared his throat. “She’s had a fair bit. But I’d rather not talk about it because you’ll probably all meet her at some point. And she’s lovely, a bit shy at first but interesting and clever.”

“She certainly is.”

Charles jerked his head up at Seth’s words and searched his face. Then he looked back at the picture.

“Anyway, the theme – childhood cut short – seemed so appropriate to her, to our family, and it was good to get out the pastels after so many years. I’ve been an architect for so long now it feels funny to draw anything that isn’t in straight lines.”

There was gentle laughter as people realised that Charles was drawing another type of line under the conversation and wanted the attention moved away from him. Seth stood up.

“Well, I wish I could say we’ve saved the best until last but I feel so moved and humbled by what you’ve all brought tonight that I’m strangely reticent about my own contribution, which I assure you is not a familiar feeling.” He laughed dryly. “But here it is. It’s a poem but not my normal type of thing. It’s called “
Endgame”
.” He cleared his throat.

“Orphaned in the lockjaw of

Elongated evening smiles

Dreaming of a death, the boy

Is watching his mother’s slender hand

Peel away from the soap-smooth rock

Unable to scream as he

Sips bilberry juice.

No one seemed sure what to say.

“Can you read it again?” asked Anna.

“Sure. Or can you, Rebecca? I’d like to hear it read.”

“Me? Okay.” She felt his gaze as she lingered over the words, trying to make sense of them for herself and the others. She felt he was expecting something, but didn’t know what.

Anna leaned to look at the printed paper. “Is the boy you?”

Seth smiled. “Ooh, what a question. I’ll leave that up to reader interpretation. Anyway, now we’re all finished with our childhoods, shall we crack open the Glenmorangie?”

It wasn’t his smoothest segue but, barring a couple of raised eyebrows, no one challenged him.

“Hang on a minute. I have one more slice of childhood to serve you.” Jake leapt up towards the kitchen and returned bearing an enormous two-tiered cake flickering with candles, an intricately iced Magic Roundabout.

“Happy birthday, buddy.”

Seth shook his head as Jake conducted the rest of them into a raucous “Happy Birthday”. He had eight candles to blow out.

He looked at Jake. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. This was the cake that no one ever made me as a child. But seeing as it turned out to be your birthday…”

“You gave up your cake again.” Seth waggled a finger. “Well, we can’t have that. We’ll share it. Which of little Jake’s birthdays would this cake have been celebrating?”

Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Dunno really. Quite young, maybe my sixth.”

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