by Amy Arnold
That’s how he ends the sentence. Every time he ends it like that. He ends his sentence with since and he smooths his hair down on both sides.
‘It’s a lot for you,’ he said. ‘It’s just an idea.’
But it isn’t an idea, not just an idea, because Lynn’s got Charlie. She’ll bring her back at four, but things have changed. Things have changed since, and that’s the trick, isn’t it. Get used to it. And now Abbott says I need rest and he wants me to rest, but someone had to take Nelson out, that’s why I came.
He wants me to rest. That’s why he called Lynn. He’d seen her at the school gates and she’s always been friendly. That’s why he called her. And Charlie’s always got on well with Sophie. That’s what he said.
‘She’s nice. She’s nice, Ash.’
Lynn walked to the car. She did seem nice. Friendly, at least. Charlie was holding her right hand and Sophie was holding her left hand and she was taking them to her car.
‘I’ll drop her back around four. Four at the latest. You go on and rest.’
I followed them. She had a lot of words, but she was nice.
‘Now then, Sophie, if you get in first and mind Liam as you climb over. That’s right, it’s taken me all morning to get him off to sleep. All morning.’
It reminded me of Joan. The ease of it, I mean. I mean, the way the words slipped out one after the other. She was so used to words. She was bent over, she was doing something inside the car and the words were slipping out, one after the other.
‘That’s right, love. Well done. Just there, right, move over a tiny bit. Just a bit. Well done.’
She was bent over at the waist and words were slipping out. The top half of her was swallowed up in the cavern of the car. One of those big cars. She was bent over, and her T-shirt had ridden up. That’s the word, ridden, the way that little black dress had ridden up. I never saw Jay’s girl again. I looked, I expected her for a while, but I must have forgotten about her.
Her T-shirt had ridden up, Lynn’s, I mean, and the top half of her was swallowed up in the cavern of the car. She was moving things, making space for Charlie.
‘Now I’ll shift this stuff so Charlie’s got somewhere to sit. Have you got your booster seat, Charlie sweet?’
She leant in further. She was doing something inside the car and her T-shirt had ridden up and I could see where her jeans sat. I could see where they were sitting, on her hips, her jeans, that’s where they sat, and her T-shirt had ridden up. It wasn’t cold, she wouldn’t have been cold with her T-shirt like that, although it was overcast. Overcast, but warm enough. I’d forgotten about the sun. I was watching Lynn put the children in the car. I’d forgotten about the way it had been staring out from its sky.
She had a lot of words, Lynn, but they weren’t like Joan’s. She isn’t anything like Joan. Joan’s probably old enough to be her mum, and I’ve never seen Joan wear jeans either. Polyester trousers. That’s what Joan wears, that’s what she wore when she came with the bone. She likes them with an elastic waist. She doesn’t want anything too complicated at her age, that’s what she said. But Lynn was wearing jeans, skinny jeans. They sat on her hips and I could see her skin where her T-shirt had ridden up, and she wasn’t fat, not like Jay’s girl, and she wasn’t thin. She wasn’t thin, like me.
‘OK, OK. You can sit yourself here. That’s right. Here. In you climb. OK, OK, are we ready?’
She came out from the car and straightened up.
She said, ‘OK. Ready for the off?’
And she must have gone on talking when she got into the car, because I could see her mouth moving and I’m sure I saw Charlie and Sophie tip their heads back and laugh as she drove down our hill in her big car.
‘You go on and rest.’
That was the last thing she said to me and Abbott would like it if I rested too. That’s what he says all the time. That’s all he says. And now Nelson won’t go in.
He went in last time, but it’s been a while since. Since Charlie was throwing the ball for him and he swam. Out and back, over and over. I saw him go. I saw his tail floating just under the surface. Charlie was throwing the ball and there was nothing else for me to do but swim. I asked her if she wanted to join me. I asked her twice, because two’s the first prime.
And now he won’t go in.
‘Go in, go in. The ball. Go in.’
He won’t. His big head is on his paws and I could go in. I’ll go in. Wade out and get the ball then go on swimming right out past the rock and who would know, because it isn’t Tuesday and nobody comes here except on Tuesdays and why wouldn’t I swim right out, right now, whilst nobody knows. Why wouldn’t I stand on the rock and shout and ask who’s coming in, coming right in with Nelson and me?
Kate shook her head. She looked at the sky. The clouds were rolling across it and from where she was, from there on the bank, she would’ve seen the clouds on the water, rolling, as if the sky had somehow fallen in.
That’s how it was that day. I can still remember. Over seven hundred skies since that sky, and I still remember.
And that’s the trick, isn’t it, because you can’t keep skies from changing. You can’t keep a single one, but you can practise. You should. Papa practised losing things every time we crossed the bridge in Nott’s Wood. He’d lean over the side and spit into the beck. He’d spit into it and watch the water carry it away.
‘Practise losing small things, so you’re better at losing bigger things,’ he said.
I asked him whether it would have been a big thing to lose all his spit at once.
‘All of it. All the spit you’ve got.’
He won’t go in. His big head resting between his paws, his eyes shut.
He wouldn’t go in. He fell asleep. He was lying down with his head on his paws and he must’ve fallen asleep. I patted his nose, I stroked his fur in the wrong direction and he didn’t move, so I pulled the swift out of my pocket. I pulled it out then threw it into the lake.
I should’ve answered the phone. I hadn’t thought about time. Hadn’t thought how four o’clock would come on so quickly. I didn’t think. Didn’t answer.
‘It’s gone half past four, Ash. We’ve all been outside for forty minutes and Charlie’s a bit upset. She’s had a lovely day, they’ve had a lovely day together, but. Call me back. I’ve got the baby. I’ve got Liam.’
I heard it hit the water. I swear I heard it sink, I mean I swear I heard it falling through the water.
I’ve never heard anything sink before and sinking or not sinking’s the important part, more important than throwing and where’s the ball now, the one I threw. I threw it. I threw them. Nelson lay there with his big head between his paws and the sky rolled over the water.
Lynn said they’ve been waiting. She said they’ve all been waiting. And she’s got the baby. Liam.
I could go in. Perhaps I should go in. I could go on swimming past the rock to where the swift went in. I could dive down, go under, because I know how to breathe underwater and it can’t have gone from the bottom yet. It won’t have gone already, and if it isn’t there I could go on swimming. I’ll swim far out and keep on swimming away. Swimming a way.
She’d been trying to get hold of me. She’s got the baby and Charlie’s upset.
And it wouldn’t take long. I could wade out. I’d catch the bottom falling away. If I was lucky. I’d catch it falling away and once I got to the place where the swift went in, I could go under.
I went under. That day. That summer. I’ve been under before, more than once, and it isn’t as deep as it looks. I could swim out. I could get the swift. I could swim under and bring it back.
‘Didn’t you feel vulnerable out there in the water?’ Kate said.
She was wearing her dancing cornflower scarf.
Papa used the word vulnerable too, but it had three syllables when he said it. He only ever used it when he told me about birds, and once when he was talking about Mama, but he wasn’t talking to me.
Kate us
ed it all the time. Vul-ner-a-ble, vul-ner-a-ble. She used it the way most people use adjectives like good or nice.
‘Let people know what’s going on in that head of yours, Ash. Be vulnerable.’
But how do you do that? How do you make yourself into any adjective?
Now Charlie’s upset. Lynn said so. I didn’t think she’d cry. I waded in. I couldn’t have swum away, even if I wanted to. I waded in towards the bank. I waded as quickly as I could and when I got to the edge I knelt down and held my arms out towards her. I didn’t think she’d cry and I should get back. Yes, get going.
Lynn’s got the baby. I can see her standing on the pavement outside our house. She’s got the baby against her chest.
She’s nice. She’s nice, Ash.
She’s got the baby. Liam. Liam, lee-am, lea-am, that’s his name, and why does everything have to be like something?
I’ll walk up to her. I’ll have to walk up. Say sorry. Say, sorry I’m late, I haven’t got a nice watch. Sorry I’m late. I’ll have to walk up and say something, because there she is with the baby, and Charlie’s upset. That’s what she said. I’ll have to say something.
Say something, Ash. Have you got anything to say?
There’s Lynn with the baby. There’s Charlie. She doesn’t look upset. Lynn said she was upset, but she doesn’t look upset. She isn’t crying. She looks as though she’s having a nice time and if I had a nice watch I’d know how late I am and I’m sorry I’m late. That’s what I’ll say. I’m sorry.
I walked up to her. Nelson and I walked up to her. She was standing in the street holding Liam against her chest. She was nice. She looked nice. Her hair was piled up on top of her head. I walked up to her. I walked right up with Nelson by my side.
‘Could we please come in?’ she said.
She was holding the baby against her chest. He was crying. Liam was crying. I didn’t think he’d be crying, but he was crying and Lynn was saying please.
I let them in.
‘You two run on upstairs,’ said Lynn.
‘Charlie,’ I said.
She ran on upstairs. They thundered up the stairs. Eight legs thundering, that’s what I was thinking. Charlie, Sophie, Nelson, eight legs. Eight legs, four arms, but it wasn’t the arms doing the thundering. That’s what I was thinking.
The baby was crying. He was still crying.
‘Liam, lee-am, lea-am.’
She had him on her chest. She was rocking from one foot to the other.
‘Liam, lee-am, lea-am.’
She asked where the kitchen was. I wanted to say come through. That’s what Joan said when she invited me inside. She said come through and I walked through all her things, so many things, but there isn’t anything to come through in our house. There isn’t anything apart from the photograph of Abbott when he was the ping-pong king.
She came through. She sat on the kitchen stool. I almost said no, but before I could she said, ‘I think everyone needs a drink.’
She had Liam against her shoulder. He was crying.
She kept saying Liam, Lee-am, Lea-am.
When Charlie was small I used to say Charlie, but it wasn’t like that. Charlie, Char-lea, Char-lee. I didn’t say that.
Charlie didn’t cry that much. I can’t remember her crying at all.
‘Could I have some water, please?’ Lynn said.
She was sitting on my stool. She was nice. She had her hair piled on top of her head. It wobbled a bit when she moved, but it didn’t look like it would fall.
‘They had a lovely day, the girls,’ she said. ‘They just got on with it. I hardly had to do a thing, they just got on with it, you know. All I had to do was feed and water them. It’s lovely to watch them at this age, isn’t it. All their little games.’
She was unbuttoning her top.
‘I gave up on nursing tops with Sophie,’ she said.
‘Didn’t see the point in having to buy more clothes after going through all those maternity outfits. But I tell you, it’s one thing breastfeeding a girl. A little man is something else.’
He found her then. I watched his baby-bird gape coming for her, then the sound of suckling.
I got some water. She asked for water so I went to the tap and turned it on. Liam was sucking at her breast. I could hear the milk going down. I could hear it sinking. I let the water run, I let it run cold then filled a glass up.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I have to drink so much now I’m feeding him. It was awful when it was hot. I was drinking all the time.’
I opened the window. I could hear the sucking, the milk, I could hear it going down. I opened the window, but I couldn’t get the pins through the holes on the stay. I was rattling it, trying to get them in. I had to rattle it. The baby was suckling.
‘He likes his milk,’ she said.
It’s possessive.
I’ve heard Abbott say he likes his beer before. And whatever Abbott says about words, and whether or not they can drive you mad, people know what they’re doing with them. She meant his milk. That’s what she said. Possession means something, whatever Abbott says about words.
Papa said possession’s an illusion.
‘Even my black hair was only on loan,’ he said.
He ruffled his hair with his big hand, the way my mama might have done. He didn’t get to keep her either.
I got the pins through the holes on the stay. I had to rattle the window to do it. I could hear baby Liam.
‘No wonder he’s hungry,’ she said. ‘His feed’s an hour overdue. I wanted to feed him earlier, but it was a bit, you know.’
She’s nice, I thought. Her hair too. It’s nice, the way she’s put it up on her head like that. Kate never did her hair like that. She never put it up on her head.
She was nice, Lynn. She didn’t say a thing about me being late, about not having a nice watch, and I could see she had one herself. It wasn’t a Second Core, but it was a nice watch. I was thinking about her watch. I was thinking about whether I should ask Abbott to get me one after all. Perhaps it’ll cheer him up, I thought. He’d like that. He’d like to ask Google about nice watches for women. For his wife. That’s what he might put into Google. He knows how to optimise his searches, that’s what he says and I was thinking about watches. I was thinking how children don’t really wear watches, even if they can tell the time. I mean, you can only trick yourself that time goes round, in twelves, when you’re older, because it’s only when you’re older that you need to trick yourself.
‘Isn’t it?’ she said.
Liam had stopped his suckling. He was lying in the crook of her arm, sleeping.
‘Isn’t it, Ash?’ she said.
I’d been thinking about time. About asking Abbott to get me a nice watch after all and I hadn’t been listening. Normally I listen. Abbott calls me a listener. He used to call me his listener. He meant his listener. That’s what he said.
‘Strange. Isn’t it strange? Imagining things like that,’ Lynn said.
And I was wondering why it would be strange imagining things about time, and I was looking at Liam, lying in the crook of her arm. I was looking at the milk between his lips. Still between his lips.
‘It’s strange, the things they imagine at that age,’ she said. ‘I was just this minute saying that Charlie was worried you’d flown away. You know, when we were waiting for you just now.’
I’d managed to get the pins through the holes on the stay. I’d had to rattle it but I’d managed to get them through.
‘Charlie,’ Lynn said. ‘Charlie said something about you being a bird, now, which bird was it? Anyway, she showed us them, up on your hill. She said her mum might fly away and she looked a bit upset. I thought she was having fun with us at first but she looked a bit, you know, upset.’
Lynn said I shouldn’t worry. She said I shouldn’t worry because little ones like to imagine things. She said she usually puts, no, she usually pops a few drops of lavender milk in Sophie’s bath to help her sleep. She said there are us
ually no more flights of fancy after that.
She’s nice. She seemed nice when she said that.
And now it’s Grace’s mum who’s taking Charlie away.
‘She’ll ring you. She’s nice,’ Abbott said. ‘You’ll be able to get a bit more rest.’
I answered the phone when it rang. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. She said her name was Sashya, with a y.
‘Sash-y-a,’ I said. Sash-y-a.
Maybe she thought I was writing it down. Maybe I should’ve written it down. I’ve seen Abbott write things down when he’s on the phone.
And now Sashya’s here.
She’s standing at our door with a bucket and spade. She’s got a red bucket and red spade and she’s holding them up, right up and she’s swinging them.
‘Sash-y-a,’ she says.
She holds her hand out towards me.
‘We spoke on the phone. Sash-y-a.’
The red bucket and spade are swinging. She looks at Charlie.
‘Grace is waiting in the car, my lovely. But first, guess where we’re going?’
She swings her hips. She swings the bucket and the spade and her hips and she’s waiting for an answer but Charlie doesn’t know where they’re going and maybe Sashya wants one of us to say the beach, but there isn’t a beach. There isn’t a beach near Tilstoke.
‘Guess, Charlie,’ she says.
She swings the bucket and spade. She swings her hips and perhaps Charlie will say something. Something to stop the bucket and spade from swinging. Perhaps Charlie will say something. She knows she has to say the beach, even though she knows they’re not going there. That’s what she has to say if she wants the swinging to stop.
‘The beach?’ Charlie says. ‘The beach?’
‘The sandpit park,’ says Sashya.
She lets the bucket and spade down by her side.
‘Hurry up, hurry up. Grace is in the car, go on and join her.’
The next day it’s Lynn again.
‘Only me,’ she says.
She pushes the front door open.
‘I’ll bring her back at three. I’ll have the baby, so.’