There’s something comforting about being trapped indoors while a storm whips around. There’s a buffer between you and the ‘real world’. But then, the real world has a way of catching up with you. Radley’s been my cabin in the woods for so long now that I’d almost forgotten that I was once another William.
I spend the day indoors, but at four I wander to the library.
I can hear the sound from inside before I push open the doors. Children are strewn everywhere; they cascade down the stairs from the rooms above. The smell from the kerosene lamps fills the air, and the AGA in the kitchen and the gas heaters warm the entire space. I turn to leave, but Colleen waves me in. Emily looks up and attempts a smile from her seat on the floor. I notice the dark circles under her eyes. Expectant faces gaze up at her as she reads from an oversized picture book.
‘And then when all the honey jars were empty, the bear jumped out of the window and ran straight into the woods.’
‘Your books are on the second shelf under the desk, William. Help yourself,’ Colleen calls out over the noise.
I find the books. As I pick them up, I see the boy from the bridge reading in one of the alcoves. I think of going to say hello, but the noise down here is too much. As I walk past the children, one of the parents grabs a child’s hand and pulls her away from me. The child looks startled. I pretend I didn’t see what happened.
I climb the stairs and settle in a wing-back chair in one of the back bedrooms. I try to read, but I keep reading the same line as my mind wanders back to the mother’s reaction. It’s human nature to judge people by the way they look, and usually I pay it no mind, but some days that stuff gets in.
Rather than follow the thought too far down the rabbit hole, I pull the notepad and pen from my coat. I don’t know how people make sense of the world without writing it out.
I find company in the flawed protagonists who live between the pages of books. They offer me something to hold on to. There’s a sliver of hope that we can leave our pasts behind and maybe even find forgiveness.
I write until the light moves to another part of the library. I’m about to follow the light when the power comes back on. A cacophony of voices and people moving fills the air. I wait until the racket subsides and slowly wander home.
I grab some more wood and stoke the fire as soon as I’m home. I hear a slight tap, and then Arlo walks in.
‘William? Oh good, you’re home. How you doing?’
‘Pretty good. Do you want a cuppa?’
‘No. I just wanted to see how you are. I saw Bernie up the street, and she said you didn’t look good.’
‘I’m fine. You know her. She’s had me dying since the day I moved in here.’
We both laugh, but I can see Arlo checking me out.
‘I’ve changed my mind about a cuppa. I’ll make it.’ He strolls into the kitchen. ‘Do you want one?’
‘Yes, a peppermint would be nice. How’s Marco?’ I ask, signalling for a change of subject.
‘Still the same. A shit. I swear he gets more like his mother every day. I should tell him, and he might stop hating her so much.’ He clatters around in the kitchen and comes back a few minutes later.
He places my tea on a small side table and drags an armchair closer to me. A frown creases his brow.
‘He’ll be alright, Arlo.’
‘Yeah, that’s what you’ve been telling me for years. But I think the fruit is spoiled.’
I smile at my friend’s use of English. He loves telling people that he took to proverbs and clichés like a duck to water.
‘He needs some of that pie that you Englishmen eat,’ Arlo says.
‘What pie?’
‘You know, the one you eat when you’ve grown too big for yourself.’
‘Oh, humble.’
‘Yeah. He needs a big slice of that.’
‘He’s still growing up.’
‘He’s thirty, William. He’s not a boy.’
‘It takes a long time to grow up, Arlo.’
Arlo sips his tea and nods his head. ‘I suppose I should be grateful. At least he’s not crashing cars and getting into fights any more.’
‘He was just mad that his mum left. People do funny things when they’re hurting.’
‘Yeah, I think he’s still making people pay for that.’
We hear a car in Arlo’s driveway. He stands up and looks out the window.
‘Talk of the devil. I’d better go see what he wants from me now.’
‘I’ve got a few jobs I need doing. Send him over here when he’s got a minute.’
‘My pleasure.’
MARCO
Dad walks through the gap in the hedge from William’s garden as I’m taking my suitcases from the car.
‘Marco. Twice in one week. I didn’t expect to see you for another year.’
‘Yeah, well. I lost my job. The boss turned out to be a dick.’
‘You have an uncanny knack for finding one of those for a boss.’
‘Funny, Dad. I thought I’d stay here until I can sort some things out.’
‘Right.’
He takes one of my suitcases from me, and I follow him inside. I’m surprised he’s not giving me more grief. I search his face to see what’s going on.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, bit worried about William.’
‘It was just a cut.’
‘Mmm. Think it’s a bit more than that. He said they’re going to run a few tests at the hospital, but he’s not saying much more. I did offer to drive him, but he said he’d catch the train. Maybe you could go over and convince him to take a ride? You could pretend you’re going back to London for the day. He’d probably go with you.’
‘He’ll be fine, Dad. It’s William. Anyway, I’m busy looking for a job.’
‘William’s not invincible, Marco. You can spend your time at the hospital checking the newspaper.’
‘You don’t get jobs through newspapers any more. They’re online.’
‘Well, that’s even better. You’re always on your phone; you’ll get one in no time. I’ve got a huge delivery, and that film crew coming to get some things from the shop. It’ll help me out if you can take him.’
‘What time is it?’
‘I think his appointment’s at 1 p.m. He won’t mind waiting if you need to do some stuff afterwards.’
I frown at the thought of taking William to a bar, which is the only thing I’m interested in doing.
‘What if they tell him something horrible? Maybe you should come too. In case he wants to talk about it or something?’
‘You’ll be fine. It’ll be nice for him to have you there. Payback for all the times he’s been there for you.’
I grab my bags from the floor, and memories of William saving my arse flood in.
‘Yeah, yeah. I’ll do it.’ I throw my bags into my old room. The childish cowboy curtains that Dad got cheap when I was already too old for them hang limp from the windows. I put my suits in the wardrobe, but the pole is at kids’ height, and they drag on the floor. I place my dress shoes on top of the bookshelves, which are made from planks of wood and concrete blocks. Dad was so excited about his creation that most of our rooms have at least one set of them. I sink down onto my single bed, and a spring pokes through the worn mattress and jabs me in the rear.
JAMES
‘I got interviewed by that film crew today,’ Mum says as she brings a fish pie to the table. ‘I made your favourite, James.’
Tonight, the smell of it makes me nauseous, and I hide my gagging behind a napkin. I feel sick in my stomach a lot of the time. There’s a constant rumbling and churning going on inside. I take a sip of water and hope it stays down.
‘Where did you see the film crew?’ Dad asks.
‘At the butcher’s. I was getting some meat, and they were in there interviewing Earl and Rose.’
‘I would have thought they’d start further up the chain than them.’
‘They had to start somew
here. Their shop’s the first on Spring Street. I’m sure they’ll get to you soon.’
‘I should think so. Actually, I’m glad they didn’t come into the office today, because the only thing people wanted to talk about was the manse being sold and the library shutting down.’
‘It’s a big deal, Raymond,’ Mum says. ‘Loads of groups use that library.’
‘Well, they’ll just have to go somewhere else. What did the film crew ask you?’
‘How long I’d been here. What it’s like living in a small village.’
‘Did you tell them you’re married to the clerk of the parish council?’
‘No. They didn’t ask that sort of thing.’
‘You don’t need to be asked. The only way for me to get elected to the county council is for us to take every opportunity to promote what I do on the parish council.’
The air seems compressed, and it feels like the roof is pressing down on us as they’re talking. I glance up at the ceiling and then at Mum to see if she’s noticing it as well. She smiles and seems oblivious.
I force down a mouthful. One more and I’ll throw up. I put my knife and fork together. ‘I’m sorry, Mum, but I’m not really hungry.’
‘Do you want me to make you a …’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Marion. Stop mollycoddling the boy.’ Dad slaps some butter on a chunk of bread and stuffs it in his mouth. He chews it without taking his eyes off me.
‘Have you decided on a plan yet, James?’
‘I haven’t had much time to think.’
‘Mmm. Seems to me that you’ve got all the time in the world.’
Mum doesn’t look up from her plate.
‘Well, I don’t think it’s good for you to be lying around the house all day, so you can come and work at the office with me. I’ve got a few jobs on the computer that need doing. Lindy can set you up out the back.’
‘I’m not really that good on a computer.’
‘See, even that’s strange.’ He directs his words towards Mum and then turns back towards me. ‘You must be the only kid this century who doesn’t understand technology.’
‘I understand it, Dad. I’m just not into it.’
He shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to think.
‘Can we leave it for the moment, Raymond?’
‘I’m just trying to find a solution. Maybe you can ask around the village to see if there’s a part-time job until we get you into another university.’
‘I’m not sure that’s what I want to do.’
‘Oh … Well, the one thing I am sure of is that you’re not going to find the answer you’re looking for in your bedroom. You have to get out more. It might seem to you that I’m being cruel, but I think you’ll thank me for it in the end.’
EMILY
Colleen watches me as I put books into the wrong places. I have to keep saying the alphabet out loud because I can’t remember what letter comes next.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Emily. Do some dusting.’ She thrusts a cloth into my hand. ‘I don’t have time for this today. What’s going on?’
‘Nothing, I’m just tired.’
‘You look awful. Maybe you should take a few days off.’
‘No. I don’t need to.’
‘It’s not just me who thinks you look dreadful. Other people are starting to comment.’
‘People. You mean Maggie?’
‘No, not just Maggie. Lots of people.’
‘Well, you can tell “lots of people” to mind their own business.’
‘Emily, I’m concerned.’
‘I told you that I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll come right.’
‘That’s what I’ve been waiting for, but it doesn’t appear to be happening.’
I can see by the look in her eyes and the way her mouth is set that she won’t let this go.
‘You’re right. I probably need some vitamins.’ I march off before she can say anything more. I know that I’m about a millisecond away from coming undone.
I don’t understand how it all turned so horrible. Last night I made a beautiful beef stew with dumplings and waited until he’d eaten his dinner. I served him up a huge slice of lemon meringue pie before I said anything. It took me all my courage to open my mouth and get the words out—that I wasn’t happy with the way he was treating me.
I can’t believe I was so stupid.
The look of anger that spread across his face was so quick that I didn’t have time to move. I knew I was in trouble. He leapt around the table and shoved me against the wall. He spat words at me, but I was so frightened that I couldn’t make any sense of them. I thought he was going to hit me, but instead he punched a hole in the wall beside my head. I felt the pee dribble down my leg as he released his grip. He stormed upstairs to bed, and I waited until I could hear him snore before grabbing some clothes and walking through the dark to the library.
I woke in the bedroom off the kitchen. The French doors lead out to a small potager. Since I was a child, this has always been my favourite room. It took me a few moments to remember why I was here, but then the memories came flooding back. I sat on the edge of the bed and felt like crying, but no tears came. Perhaps you run out of them. I made the bed and hid my clothes and toiletries under the stairs before Colleen arrived.
Beatrice bustles in not long after we open, and Colleen surprises me by blocking the entrance to the kitchen.
‘I think it’s time, Beatrice, that you got your coffee somewhere else.’
‘You’re being petty, Colleen. This wasn’t just my decision.’
‘Maybe not, but you were the driving force behind it. I saw that first-hand at the meeting. If the library has to move, then I see no reason for us to put up with you a minute longer.’
‘This is a public library, Colleen.’
‘Yes, it is. So if you want to borrow a book, be my guest, but if you’re wanting coffee, I suggest you go to the highway tearooms and pay like everyone else.’
‘What do you mean, if the library has to move?’ I ask.
Colleen swivels around to face me and looks uncomfortable.
‘I’ll explain later, Emily.’
‘There’s not much to explain, Colleen,’ Beatrice says through gritted teeth. She turns towards me. ‘The church needs urgent repairs, Emily, or we won’t have a church. We have to sell the manse to pay for this. The library will need to be rehoused.’
‘But … where will I go?’
WILLIAM
I heard it once, but I replay the diagnosis throughout the day. Two big growths, inoperable, but treatments may help. Having had a feeling that something was wrong doesn’t make knowing any easier. Some things are just too big to absorb at once. They have to sit somewhere until you can work out how to break them down into smaller chunks. Words that I’ve known forever have been tipped on their heads and sound different. ‘Treatments’, ‘options’, ‘most likely’.
I can feel the pressure behind my eyes. I sit down on the window seat and prop some cushions behind my back. I thought the day would come when my past would catch up with me, but I never imagined that a cluster of cells that refuse to die like they’re supposed to would steal the limelight. Take away my options.
Juno starts barking. Out the window, I see a policeman weaving his way through my garden.
I open the door before he reaches it.
‘Good afternoon,’ I call out.
He nods in my direction and walks slowly up the path and onto the porch.
‘I’m Sergeant Norris,’ he says as he steps around me and into my lounge. His head starts rotating. He reminds me of the fairground clowns, the ones who turn their heads as you try to put the ball in their mouths.
‘Can I help you with something?’
He doesn’t answer for a moment but continues to move his head. He looks at me, and I sense that he doesn’t like me.
‘I’m the new sergeant. I’ve taken over from Sergeant Goff. I’d like to take a look inside your shed.’
‘Can I ask what you’re looking for?’
‘We’re concerned that you might be operating something illegally from your shed. We’ve had quite a few reports about people coming and going from your property. I’m here to take a look around.’
‘And if I wouldn’t like to show you?’
‘I’ll look anyway.’
His smile is full of menace. I shake my head, but I know that arguing will keep him here longer. I take the key from a hook and point towards the shed. Juno growls as he walks past her. He strides off down the path like he’s on a treasure hunt. I’m not sure what he’s expecting to find. Bodies? Or parts of them?
I open the door and hold a hand out, indicating he should go in first. The smell of white sage and juniper hangs in the air. He sniffs loudly as he stoops to get inside. He looks at the books on the shelves. I see him reading the quotes that I’ve painted in gold around the walls. He sits down in one of the two armchairs that face each other and shuffles through the books on the coffee table. ‘Forest bathing. Bringing yoga to life …’ He snorts and shakes his head as he stands. He pulls a few more books from the shelves. His shoulders sag, and I sense his disappointment. I think he was hoping for a magic lever or a trapdoor.
‘So you’re selling books, are you?’
‘No.’
‘So what are these all for?’
I look at him. ‘Really. You want me to answer that?’
‘I want you to answer all my questions.’ He pulls himself up to maximum height.
‘They’re for reading.’
He pulls his lips tightly together. ‘I can take you down to the station, William.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘On the grounds that I’m a police officer.’
‘Mmm. I think you’ll need a bit more than that.’
‘On the grounds, William, that I believe you may be engaging in several criminal activities.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to name one.’
‘Child grooming. Drug manufacturing.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘You’ve been seen dropping things off around the village, and I hear that people visit you in this shed.’
The Liminal Space Page 5