Genius

by Clare Nonhebel

CHAPTER 76

  Keith was off school with bronchitis. The antibiotics upset his stomach, and his breathing was more laboured when he lay down, so he was sitting in his wheelchair in the dining room, within easy reach of the downstairs toilet. His mother had carried the television in there.

  'I'm only in the kitchen,’ she said, 'and I'll leave the door open, and the hatch too, so call if you want anything.’

  So he was there, within sight of the front door, when Grandad came. He saw his mother open the door and saw Grandad, without a word, step in and put his arms round her. They stayed like that for a long time. Finally, he let her go.

  'It's over,’ he said. 'They've got him.’

  'Is he in prison?’

  'In hospital. Up north somewhere, a seaside resort. I'll have to go up there.’

  'I'm coming with you.’

  'No, don't come. You have to stay here with Keith. It'sjust as well.’

  'Is he badly hurt?’

  'In intensive care.’

  'Oh God. Come in, come in properly, Dad, and tell me.’

  'I should go,’ he said, 'straight away.’

  'You can't go in this state, Dad; you're shaking like a leaf. Let me phone Frank at work. He'll drive you.’

  'No, no, I can't ask that.’

  'Of course you can, for God's sake! Look at all you've done for us, for Keith. Sit in the kitchen while I phone him.’

  'No,’ he said. 'You'll need him here with you. I've phoned for the times of the trains. There's one in an hour. You can phone me a taxi from here, if you will.’

  Grandad walked past the open door of the dining room, not seeing Keith in there. His footsteps were shuffling and his head was lowered. He seemed to have aged ten years during this last week or two.

  Keith thought his mother had forgotten him too. She returned from the phone in the hall and went straight to the kitchen, without a glance at him through the open door. She had left the serving hatch open. Keith would be able to hear every word. He felt as though he was eavesdropping and didn't know whether he should call out and remind them he was there, but that seemed an intrusion too. He pressed the remote control to turn the sound down on the television, partly to avoid disturbing them, and partly because he really wanted to hear; it might be the only way he would know. His parents were still prone to protect him from unpleasant truths.

  'What happened?’ his mother asked.

  'He attacked some young girl, in a fairground or some such place.’

  Keith could hear his mother's sharp intake of breath. 'Oh no! Is she okay?’

  'She fell from a height and injured her back but she'll be all right. She's been treated for shock.’

  'How did Dan get hurt? Did he fall as well?’

  'He was up some tower or something. A man threw a beam at him and knocked him off.’

  ‘Threw a beam?’

  'That's what they said. A circus strong man picked up a great big beam of wood and threw it. It hit him in the back of the head and knocked him to the ground unconscious. The police were called at the same time as the ambulance. It was only when he got to the hospital that they realized he was the man they'd been pursuing. They didn't know he'd gone that far north; he'd been sighted in another town and then they'd lost track of him. They reckon there are years’ worth of unsolved crimes to his name.’

  There was silence.

  Then Keith’s mother said, 'What state is he in?’

  'He hasn't regained consciousness. They're not sure whether he will. The police want to know if we want to press charges against the man who threw the beam at him.’

  'What do you think, Dad?’

  'No,’ he said. 'How can we? Defending some young girl? No.’

  'What do they want you to go up there for? To identify him?’

  'No, they've got fingerprints and enough other evidence to be sure. They know who he is. They're not asking me to go; they just came to let me know what had happened, that's all. We don't have to do anything.’

  'So you don't have to go?’

  'I have to go,’ said Grandad. 'Not for them. For myself.’

  'Why, Dad? Why put yourself through it? He might not even wake up.’

  'He might. If he heard his dad's voice.’

  'Is that what you want?’

  'I don't know,’ said Grandad.

  Keith flinched at the pain in his voice.

  'Why?’ his mother said. 'He left us a long time ago. Wouldn't it be better to leave him now, where he is? He can't come to any more harm now. Why do you have to go, all that long journey, on your own?’

  'Because,’ said Grandad harshly, 'he's my son.’

  CHAPTER 77

  Eldred never understood why his mother jeopardized her job and almost lost it, by cancelling her shifts over half-term, nor why his father took unpaid leave from work. He was all right now, he assured them. He wasn't upset any more. He even felt relieved, now he knew the truth. There was no need for all this.

  Even on the train, he was trying to persuade them that they didn't have to do this for him. Edgar and Mildred smiled and persisted. It was a treat they all needed, Edgar said, a bit of light relief.

  'Do us all good. Get your mother away from her slaving and give you a break from the studying. What better way of giving the brain a rest?’

  The weather was against them, dismal and wet. As soon as the rain stopped, it started again. The bed-and-breakfast proprietors in Garton-on-Sea expected them to be out of their room by 10 a.m. and to stay out all day from then on. The breakfasts were lukewarm, the egg yolks solid as chalk, the bacon limp. The museum was a poor refuge, even from driving rain. The cafes were crowded and the babies always screamed.

  But once a day, every day for three days, they entered a world of magic: a world of seals who balanced stacks of plates on their noses, of lions who opened and never closed their jaws around a live man's head, of clowns with mouths as red and wide as a pillarbox, who tripped each other up and coated each other with foam and threw buckets of water.

  Horses adorned like royalty danced like ballerinas, to the astonishment of the Joneses and the rest of the audience. Trapeze artists locked arms in mid-air, high above their heads and swung back and forth, performing heart-stopping feats. A strongman ('the size of our garden shed,’ whispered Edgar) lifted a whole seesaw­load of people over his shoulder and carried them round the ring.

  There were balloons and bubbles, smoke and dry ice, lights and laser beams, music and drumrolls, laughter, screaming and noise, and tumultuous applause.

  But undoubtedly the highlight of the show was Lulubelle - Lulubelle recovered from her injury, as supple and assured as ever before, twisting and leaping and turning, contorting her small lithe body into impossible shapes, balancing her whole weight on one slim hand, standing upright and leaning her head slowly backwards till she was folded in half and the dangly earrings with the bells she had rung with her toes now reached down to the backs of her knees.

  But the best part, thought Eldred, was her new trick: the lightning succession of hand-springs in decreasing circles round the ring, culminating in a leap on to a small trampoline, which projected her like a missile on to a high platform, where she stood triumphantly waving and smiling. And when she turned in the direction where Eldred sat with his parents, Mr and Mrs Edgar Jones, she looked right down at them and blew a kiss.

  It wasn't for everyone; it was just for him. Only one other member of the audience, on the very last night of the circus's stay in town, merited such favouritism and that was a pale skinny boy draped awkwardly across a wheelchair, who smiled and hooted in the wings.

  END

  For other books by the same author, see website: https://clarenonhebel.com

 
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