Striking a Balance

by Curtis, Norma

  Larry felt it hit his stomach like a blow. ‘She’s not lost,’ he said. He looked at the trees beyond the playground. One of them was dotted with starlings, they looked like large, dark leaves against the green. A couple and their dog walked beneath the tree and they flew up in a cloud, to land in the grass. ‘I know where to find her.’

  Bill seemed surprised to hear that. ‘Is she at work?’

  ‘She’s staying with a friend of hers, just for a short while. You can go and see her if you like, see where she’s staying. I’ll ask her, shall I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The starlings were back in the tree again. ‘How are you feeling? How’s your head?’

  ‘It’s all right, it doesn’t hurt.’

  ‘Good. Let’s get something to eat.’

  ‘Can we go to McDonalds?’

  They walked back slowly, hand in hand, and Larry thought of the man looking over the fence. He’d hated him because he didn’t want to be like him. But he was going down that path already, going of his own volition. The momentum of his argument was pushing him on.

  ‘When will you ask her?’

  ‘When we get back, I’ll ring her. I’ll ring her and see how she is.’

  He was surprised at the way he felt, just saying that. He was glad of the excuse.

  *

  Out of every permutation he had thought of and practised and enlarged upon, when he spoke to her what he actually said to her was: ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. He could hear the office hum behind her. ‘How’s Bill?’

  ‘Bill’s fine. He’s missing you.’ We both are, he thought, but left it unsaid. ‘He would like to see you. As it’s the weekend, I wondered…’

  He listened to the phone line humming and a telephone ringing in the background and his wife’s thought waves hesitate.

  ‘You don’t want me —’ she hesitated. ‘I’ll come home and see him tomorrow. Take him swimming. I’ll come as early as I can.’

  As she could? What did that mean? He wondered what might prevent her, what else she had on. ‘Bill’s here,’ he said, ‘have a word.’

  ‘Mummy,’ Bill said, sitting on the carpet to talk.

  Larry heard her speak, but couldn’t make out the words. He wanted to listen, but Bill’s hand was clutched tightly around the receiver and he was nodding. Suddenly he kissed the mouthpiece, his eyes shut. Then wordlessly, he handed the receiver to his father.

  Larry listened but got only the burr of the dialling tone. ‘You don’t want me...’ To come home? Is that what she thought?

  He replaced the handset. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said to Bill, ‘is when you’re going to see Mummy.’

  ‘I know, she told me. I’ll kiss her,’ Bill said, as though that was what he’d decided was missing, that lack of kissing had sent his mother away.

  PART NINE - And Nine’s the Devil His Ane Sel’

  46

  She picked him up and took him swimming.

  On Saturday mornings the pool was quiet.

  After they’d changed into their swimsuits, Bill and Megan left Lisa applying waterproof conditioner to her hair and walked to the pool, hand in hand.

  The pool was full of echoes and empty of people.

  Standing next to Bill on the cold, dry tiles, Megan stared at the blue, untroubled water.

  She had a thirst for it. She savoured the thought of being first in; she wanted to dive and smash the glossy surface and be swallowed by the cool, refreshing blue closing slowly over her head, deafening her with its muffled silence.

  She jumped in and held her arms out for Bill and he leapt into them with a squeal. She let him go, and they bobbed together like corks for a moment before he swam to her, flapping the water, holding his head high. His limbs were warm against hers and Megan put her arms around his small, narrow chest and lay back, smiling with the combined pleasure of water and Bill. The water sparkled so coldly it was like floating in spearmint.

  ‘This is our pool, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘It’s private.’

  Megan dived and rose slowly in a cloud of silver bubbles. She broke the surface and swept her hair from her face with the palms of both hands. ‘It’s our private pool,’ she said. ‘No one is allowed in except for us.’

  ‘And Daddy,’ Bill said.

  ‘And Daddy. Of course. ’She floated on her back. ‘Don’t you call him Larry any more?’

  ‘No. I call him Daddy now.’

  Bill paddled over close to her. He ducked and swam up, water streaming down his face. ‘Do you know where Daddy’s black Maglite is?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘I wondered, that’s all.’

  Lisa smiled at them and stood poised at the deep end in a fluorescent green swimsuit for a long moment, then dived sharply into the blue water. The few gentle ripples that she made lapped up against Megan and Bill. Suddenly she surfaced a few feet away from them, her hair as sleek as a seal’s.

  Wow,’ Megan said, impressed.

  Lisa put her arms out behind her to hold the bar and kicked off again, surging along underneath the surface of the water before using firm, clean strokes to take her to the deep end. The fluorescent swimsuit took on a pallor in the water. From where Megan floated, she looked like some beautiful marine species.

  ‘She’s your friend,’ Bill said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re a beautiful mummy,’ he said.

  Her sense of unworthiness brought sudden, desperate tears to her eyes at his generosity and his love. ‘And you’re the best boy anyone could have,’ she said.

  Their peace came to an end with the arrival of a group of teenagers, whose noise bounced off the water and under the vaulted roof. They jumped and dived like compact bombs, exploding into life on reaching the surface. They surrounded Bill and Megan in the shallow end. Megan watched their long pale limbs float and kick and looked at Bill, who was paddling with his hands on the outskirts of the fun.

  I want to be with Bill, she thought. The idea seemed to open her up inside.

  But I have to work.

  She swam towards her son and realised for the first time that her love for her job couldn’t begin to compare.

  Lisa swam up to them, drawing attention and a couple of comments from the boys, who she disdainfully stuck a finger up to. ‘Are you ready to get out?’ she asked Megan.

  ‘Sure.’

  She helped Bill out of the pool and she went to her locker for the Radox shower gel and the towels.

  She left one shower free between herself and Bill, and Bill stood with his hands stretched up over his head, his face lifted to the spray and his eyes closed tight.

  She squeezed the Radox onto her palm and frothed it on his head and the shower floated the suds away. He stepped out straight into the towel she was holding for him and she wrapped it round him.

  ‘Go and dry yourself while I rinse off,’ she said, and slipped out of her swimsuit. She caught Lisa’s eyes through the rushing water. It’s just like gym at school, she thought, concentrating on the Radox, and when she looked up, Lisa had gone.

  *

  ‘Meg, take a look at Bill’s leg,’ Lisa said as she towelled herself dry, naked and unself-conscious in the changing room.

  Megan was sitting on the slatted wooden bench with her cheek on Bill’s damp hair. Through the Radox she could smell the smell of him. His arm was draped around her neck and his slender limbs dangled along hers. She ran her hand over his leg and looked at the bruises on his thigh. ‘What have you been up to?’ she said with a laugh. ‘You are a sausage.’

  Lisa came and stood next to her, her arm resting across Megan’s shoulder.

  Megan felt uncomfortable at her proximity. She and Larry walked about naked — had walked — but Lisa’s predatory prowl was not an unself-conscious one at all. There was something very conscious about it.

  Bill didn’t mind. Impressed at the attention the bruises were causing, he traced his finger from one mark to the other like an abstract join-the-d
ots. He looked up suddenly, his eyes dazzling in his slightly freckled face. ‘They don’t hurt.’

  ‘Of course they don’t,’ Megan said briskly.

  She stood up and took Bill’s clothes out of the locker. ‘Step into these,’ she said, holding his pants out for him. ‘I can dress by myself, now,’ he said. ‘You have to look at the label because that’s the back.’

  Lisa laughed. She was bending over and her heavy breasts fell into the cups of her bra.

  Megan glanced at her, then back at Bill. ‘Well, I am impressed.’

  ‘But I’m not very good at buttons.’

  ‘Buttons can be a nuisance, I know.’

  ‘Daddy helps me with my shoes. I can fasten them myself.’

  ‘But not unfasten them, eh,’ Megan said, tearing open the Velcro flap. ‘You’re doing really well for someone who’s four. You’ll be ready for school before long.’

  Bill did a little jump on the spot.

  ‘Shall I help you with that button on your trousers?’

  ‘I can do this one,’ he said, his chin on his chest as he struggled with it.

  Damn you, Larry, she thought, any excuse to be in contact with Bill and you make him self-sufficient.

  *

  They went for lunch and Bill could see as soon as they went inside that the restaurant was one you had to BEHAVE in.

  It wasn’t like Burger King where you could join two straws together, or blow the wrapper of the straw straight off it to try and hit someone you knew. In that sort of place you could eat with your fingers — you had to, because there were no knives and forks. But places like this were different. The best thing about them (the only thing, he thought) was that some-times you got a small umbrella in your drink.

  The waiters were very nice to Lisa and his mummy and were making them laugh. He liked the sound of his mother laughing but he wasn’t sure he wanted her to be so happy. She might, he thought, never want to come home. They didn’t laugh so much at home any more.

  ‘They think you’re the nanny,’ Lisa said, and she was smiling.

  His mother smiled back. ‘I wish,’ she said. But she didn’t say what she had wished for; if you told, it didn’t come true. Bill knew that now.

  Lisa was looking at her carefully. ‘Do you?’

  His mother was staring at her plate. She looked very sad, as though she’d seen a mark on it like his father left on plates. His father had given him a breakfast bowl one morning with yesterday’s cornflakes stuck like glue to the edge and pretended they’d only just gone like that.

  But he knew better.

  ‘What will you have to drink, Meg?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘A Coke.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Bill said.

  ‘Two Cokes and a kir.’

  Another waiter came and asked what he wanted to eat and he said, ‘Duck.’

  Megan and Lisa laughed again, and they ordered duck, too. Then Megan said she was going to the cloakroom and did he want to come?

  He shook his head.

  ‘So,’ Lisa said when his mother had gone, ‘tell me all about the bruises on your leg.’

  It wasn’t often a grown-up asked him things like that. He rubbed his eye and tried to remember. ‘Daddy did them,’ he said. He tried to remember. It wasn’t always easy and he could only remember bits. ‘I was naughty and we left the playgroup...’ he looked at her warily, but she didn’t seem to be cross. She nodded. ‘And Daddy pushed me too hard and grabbed my legs and I hit my head on the floor.’

  Lisa folded her arms and leaned nearer to him and repeated exactly what he’d said, all except the naughty bit. He was glad about that.

  ‘Your daddy pushed you hard and grabbed your legs and hit your head on the floor,’ she said.

  Bill, if he tried hard, could still see the swing leaping about as it had when his father had picked him up. ‘And Daddy said he was sorry lots of times.’

  ‘Did he? He will be,’ Lisa said, looking pleased, and Bill was glad he’d said that, about how sorry his father was.

  He could see his mother coming back, looking happy. Lisa was looking happy, too. ‘Oh, yes, he will be,’ she said.

  47

  Roles were reversing themselves everywhere, it seemed to Larry.

  Having set up a date between his wife and his son, he rang James, to ask how he was, he told himself as he dialled, not to tell him anything about the rift with Megan. But it came stammering out and he felt ashamed. ‘Shouldn’t be burdening you with this,’ he said, digging his bare toes into the carpet. ‘I rang up to see how you were.’ A lie. ‘You’ve got your own problems.’

  He heard James give a sudden, hollow laugh. ‘Your trouble is, you’ve lost your identity, mate. Trick cyclist at the hospital told me that,’ he said. ‘When Lydia went, I didn’t know who I was. “Be what you are, mate,” he said, “it’s your only chance of survival.” I’m a lonely philandering boy, Larry. Who are you?’

  Larry wondered. There had been a time when he’d known perfectly who he was, and he wished it was still that way. ‘Who are you, Larry?’

  James’s lonely voice along the telephone lines made him want to thump someone. I DON’T KNOW! he shouted inside his head, and saw the irony of wanting to be a -hero again; yes, like the day of the march, being a hero, heading a thin, unhappy line of lonely fathers while at the same time making himself into one, and shit, he thought, where was the heroism in that?

  ‘Want a bit of fun, try and find out? Guys’ day out. It’ll while away a few hours for you until Bill comes back. Bet he’s having fun with Megan. All fussed over again.’

  Larry smiled. ‘Yeah, I bet he’s having fun.’ He hoped Bill was having fun; he really hoped he was having fun, that was the truth, but not too much fun. He could imagine what it was like to be all wrapped up in Meg’s soft arms and forget; forget everything, especially him, Larry, and the — how did James put it? the man’s stuff. Because he and Bill kissed goodnight, but apart from that there wasn’t any softness any more. Meg had taken the softness out of the house with her — she was the softness, that was the truth. Without her they couldn’t hug the same. They wrestled instead. He could imagine Bill relaxing into her soft arms and never wanting to leave them.

  ‘And you?’ James asked, slapping his face with aftershave. ‘Who’s fussing over you? Which of those itsy-bitsy ladies is looking after you now?’

  Larry rubbed his cheek and paraded them slowly through his head. Emma, adjusting her Alice band; Jean, finding tomato-pip skin-cancers on her arm; Helen, writing the letters, fitting in. Itsy-bitsy ladies. Equals and opposites. He’d come full circle again.

  ‘That silence sounds like a big fat no one.’ James’s voice was raised in his enthusiasm. ‘Got something planned to cheer you up, Larry boy. You’ll have to give me an hour or so to fix it up.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Somewhere you’re going to love, Larry my boy; somewhere you’re going to love.’

  *

  James came round in a cab, which waited for Larry and went, Larry found, along Great Portland Street. He stared at the large, reflective windows in the street. He could see the pale blob of his face staring back at him and tried to identify himself, but the truth was, it could have been anybody.

  James was silent next to him; silent, but vibrating with expectation. Hyper.

  Larry didn’t even try to wonder what was in store for him. The sad truth was, he didn’t care. He wanted to be with Bill again. Bill’s temporary absence had left holes in his life, holes that he kept falling into unawares. ‘Look, fire engine,’ he said as they came out into Langham Place.

  ‘Thank you for sharing that with me, Larry,’ James said, laughing.

  But Larry couldn’t laugh back. What if Megan didn’t bring Bill home? What if Bill didn’t want to come?

  The cab stopped in Brewer Street, outside a window with Live Girls neoned on it. James paid the cab and turned to Larry, who was still staring at the sign.

  Not for necrophiliacs,’ he
said, in a bleak attempt at sexual humour.

  James jerked his head impatiently. ‘Come on.’

  What Larry wanted to say was, where? There? He wondered suspiciously if James was calling his bluff. It’s daytime, he thought, looking round. He saw James disappear down the steps below.

  A bored blonde in a tight pink dress was waiting at the bottom. Her hair was as short as Megan’s. She gave two tickets to James and he walked through heavy red velvet curtains into a bar. A topless bar, Larry could see as his eyes got accustomed to the dark.

  ‘Have a beer,’ James said, ‘everything else is through the roof.’

  ‘Sure, a beer.’

  ‘Two beers, please.’

  The girl who served them was friendly and normal. What had he expected? She was so ordinary that she seemed to be unaware that she was topless. ‘Two beers, ho-kay,’she said, ducked under the counter and reappeared with two bottles, which she opened in front of them.

  Larry felt uneasy but there was always the possibility that this was as bad as it got. He expected James to chat the girl up, but James seemed unaware that she was topless, too.

  It was so gloomy, he thought, and so seductive with its red velvet curtains and dim light. It was like night-time. They drank the beers from the bottles and Larry looked around at the other men in the dim shadows. Here and there a red tip of a cigarette momentarily glowed more brightly. The room seemed charged and it occurred to Larry that they were waiting for something. ‘Now what?’ he asked James.

  James looked at him and put his bottle on the bar. ‘We wait for the show to start,’ he said.

  ‘Two more beers, please,’ Larry said to the topless girl. She ducked under the bar, came up again and took the caps off. ‘Ho-kay,’she said, pushing them towards him.

  Well a show wasn’t too bad. He could deal with a show. He could enjoy it, even. He didn’t know what he was finding so difficult. The only problem he could come up with was that he didn’t really want to be here, not with James, not at all, but seeing as he was here, he might as well relax into it.