Ogg

by James Gault

  Chapter 20

  It was Sunday morning and Antonia was having a lazy lie-in. Laziness manifests itself in different ways in different people, and Antonia’s version of it meant avoiding only physical activity. So while her body rested, her mind was buzzing away at its usual speed and there was nothing she could do about it. She had a problem to solve and Ogg was still apparently in hiding so she would have to do it herself. Unfortunately, extensive mental activity does not necessarily mean effective mental activity. Her mind was going round in circles, continually asking itself what it could do to save the world, then shooting off down blind allies which led her back again and again to the same question. She realised it was totally unproductive to keep asking yourself how to save the world without finding the glimmer of the answer, and her thinking seemed to be totally out of her control. If only she could switch it off for a while and give herself a rest. She was sure something would come to her if she could just approach it with a fresh mind. She tried to think of other things, but every new thought was firmly pushed out by the same question – how can I save the world? The whole thing had taken her over.

  Then her mobile phone rang. It was Perg.

  “What are you up to today?” he asked.

  “The same as you should be, trying to save the world. Not with much success. What about you, any ideas?”

  “Ant, I’ve been thinking about it since we last met, but nothing’s coming through.”

  “I know what you mean. I’m the same.”

  “I think we need to take a break and go back to it later.”

  “I’ve tried that, but I can’t get it out of my mind, even for a minute.”

  “I wanted to ask you to come out with me today, Ant.”

  It didn’t seem a bad idea to her. She wasn’t too hopeful it would help them: she was now convinced that it would take something pretty dramatic to drive the end of the world problem out of their minds and give them a brief respite. But lying in bed with her brain whizzing round wasn’t proving any use, so why not?

  “Where are you thinking of going?” she asked.

  “I thought we could drive down to my parents for Sunday lunch.”

  Drive down to his parents for Sunday lunch! She had never met his parents. Why should she go there for lunch? What was he up to?

  “Perg, I don’t know your parents. They don’t know me. Why would I go for lunch with them?”

  “Well, they don’t actually know you, but I have mentioned you in passing when I was talking to them.”

  “You mentioned me in passing and they want me to come for Sunday lunch?”

  “Yes.” Was there a trace of guilt in the Perg voice?

  “What exactly did you tell them about me?”

  “I said we were friends.”

  “Just friends?”

  “Yes, of course! You see, I’m not good with people, Ant, and I really don’t have any other friends – just you and Ogg. So, when I told them that I had a new friend, they kind of insisted that they meet you.”

  “They don’t want to meet Ogg?”

  “I can’t tell them about Ogg. I mean, have you told your parents about him?”

  Of course she hadn’t. All the same, she had a bad feeling abut this. If she turned up at the Pratts with Perg, what exactly were they going to think? And what were her parents going to say when she told them she was going for Sunday lunch to the parents of a boy they had never met. Well, her mum had met him, but she thought he was the big brother of one of her classmates.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea, Perg!”

  “Oh, you don’t?” a disappointed voice replied.

  “The only good thing about this idea is that it’s so bad that it’s taken my mind off the end of the world for a few minutes.”

  “Well, that’s something.” The disappointed voice seemed marginally more hopeful.

  There was a silence. Perg had crossed his fingers and was wishing Antonia to say yes. Ant was wondering how she could say no without being too hurtful. She knew she should just say it straight out, ‘no way am I going to your parents’, and she hated herself for being so weak, but while she could think the words she just didn’t seem able to voice them.

  “Ant, please come. If you don’t, my Mum will be so disappointed. She can hardly believe that I’m seeing someone...”

  “You’re not seeing me. We’re friends – no, not even that – colleagues thrown together by traumatic circumstances.”

  “...and if you don’t come my Dad will be so smug. It will just confirm what he thinks of me, that I’m a total loser.”

  Perg certainly knew how to make it hard for her. How could she say ‘no’ now? She would be a monster.

  “Where exactly do your parents live?” she asked.

  “Henley-on-Thames!”

  “How are we going to get to Henley-on-Thames?”

  “I’ll pick you up in my car.”

  “You’ve got a car?”

  “Yes, I don’t use it much. My accountant said I had to buy it for the business, for tax purposes.”

  “OK, I’ll come. But we’re not seeing each other, right?”

  “No, of course not. OK. Pick you up in an hour.”

  She heard him hang up quickly, as if he was afraid she would change her mind. Now she had the problem of telling her parents. Should she lie or just tell them the truth? What is truth anyway? That was one useful practical thing Ogg had helped her with. She didn’t have to lie. Just present the facts: how her Mum and Dad interpreted them was their problem. She got up and called downstairs.

  “Mum, don’t make any lunch for me. I’m going out with a friend and we’ll have something to eat.”

  “OK, dear! Another of your school projects, I suppose,” her mother’s voice wafted up the stairs.

  Antonia thought for a moment about whether she had a moral obligation to answer that, then decided she didn’t.

  An hour later she was ready, sitting in the family living room, waiting. Her mother was sewing. Her father was reading the Sunday paper, but it somehow didn’t seem to have his whole attention. She noticed him peeping over it from time, looking at her. He didn’t say anything, but it was making her feel a bit guilty. She had the distinct feeling that he had the look of someone who knew. She hadn’t been dishonest with them, what she had said was perfectly true. No reason for her to feel guilty. And there was her Dad again, peering over the top of his paper, with that look. Still, he wouldn’t say anything. She knew her Dad, a man of an assiduous non-confrontational nature. He would keep mum with Mum, anything for a quiet life. Safe!

  She nearly fell off her seat when he spoke.

  “Oh, that’s strange,” he said, “someone’s just drawn up outside our house in a big red Ferarri.”

  ‘It can’t be him’, she thought, and looked out of the window. It was him!

  “Whoops, got to go, I’m late already,” she gulped, and fled out the front door. Without stopping or looking around, she strode past Perg in his Ferarri and walked up the street until she was certain that she was well out of the line of sight of her front window. From this safe position she gestured to Perg that he should bring the car up to meet her, which he did.

  She got in, saying “Don’t think hiring a fancy car like this for the day impresses me, Perg! An old grey Ford would have been more appropriate. I really don’t want the whole world looking at me!”

  “I’m sorry, but it really is my own car. I don’t really understand why, but my accountant says it was the most tax advantageous choice’

  “What are you, a millionaire?”

  “I get quite a lot of money in royalties for my work.”

  The end of the world problem was certainly getting pushed to the back of Antonia’s mind. They were going to have to drive right along the high street. In a car which was very red, very open and, above
all, noticeable. She knew what would be said if any of her classmates saw her, and, even worse, she knew what would be thought. ‘Gold digger’. Girls are so bitchy, especially when they’re a bit jealous of you always being first in the class. She could tell herself she didn’t care what they thought, but she knew she couldn’t really make herself believe it. Ogg might be able to help her think correctly, but what help was he with her emotional weaknesses? Why hadn’t she just said no to Perg that morning? And why was she letting her stomach turn at the thought of a few stupid teenage girls whispering behind her back? And the unavoidable end result of all this turmoil was that she was going to be extremely short with Perg, who really didn’t deserve it. ‘Still’, she thought, looking at Perg and thinking of her Dad, ‘that’s what men are for, aren’t they?’

  “Let’s just get out of here quickly before anyone sees us,” she told him.

  She thought they had got away with it. A lot of heads had turned as they passed, but, as far as she could tell, no-one she knew had been in the street when they drove through it. She should have made him put up the hood, just to be sure, but she could do that on the way back. Anyway they were now on the motorway, and Ant was pleased to note that, even if it was a Ferrari, Perg seemed perfectly contented to drive it as if it were a Ford. She was in a comfortable car being driven at a comfortable speed. She tried to relax. She was a bit nervous about meeting Perg’s parents, but she supposed they would be a bit like him. And he was entirely manageable.

  They drove straight through Henley-on-Thames and into the countryside. Perg turned off the road, in front of some iron gates. He reached into his glove compartment, extricated a little black thingy and pointed it over the windscreen, opening the gates. She couldn’t see a house, just a drive winding through an orchard and turning left behind the trees. Who were these people? Did they have servants? Why did they live in a setting for an Agatha Christie murder misery? Were her t-shirt and jeans the right things to wear? Why had she come?