Flying Under Bridges
Page 31
‘Darling, I’m afraid Granny’s died.’ I whispered so John wouldn’t hear.
‘Really!’ His face perked up like a boy with a new bicycle.
‘Yes. You can’t have her, but I do need your help.’ Tom nodded. ‘I don’t want anyone to know yet. Now John won’t come in here but he might see her through the windows, so I want you to sit with her as if everything is perfectly normal. All right? Just sit next to her and when John looks through the window he’ll think she’s fine and you’re having a chat or whatever.’
Tom went in to be with Mother and I went upstairs to get changed. John was in the shower. He had been in the shower that day Pe Pe was here. I heard the water stop and I seemed to be unable to move. His suit was hanging on the door of the spare room. I moved towards it and put my hand out for the hanger. I was standing there with the suit in my hand when John appeared from the bathroom. He had a towel round his neck and was wearing nothing but white Y-fronts. John looked at me and I think he knew I was near the edge.
‘Look, Eve, I only want what’s best for Shirley.’
‘Why can’t you wait?’ I stammered. ‘Till she’s been to university?’
John laughed. ‘University? She’s not going to university. Eve, I thought you understood. Shirley’s marrying me. She’s going to be my wife.’
I was smiling, so I think he thought it was all fine. He came towards me and I took off. It was so childish. I thought if he didn’t have the suit then he couldn’t marry my daughter. You see, if I had been a man I would have just punched him but instead I raced down the stairs, grabbed the car keys and ran outside. I think it took John a moment to react because I actually got to the car before he made it outside. I threw the suit on the front seat and slammed on the ignition. The car was parked in the middle of the drive and I needed to turn around to get out. By now John was racing down the snowy path in his underpants. I shoved the automatic gear lever into drive and jerked forward. It was the jerk that did it. Claudette, stuffed though she was, had one last leap left in her. She flew from the back seat, plinth and all, and wedged the gearbox into reverse. I looked up and saw John right behind me in the mirror.
‘So it was all an accident? You didn’t mean to run him over? Crush him against the wall?’
‘No. I could have stopped it. I could have braked there and then but I just let the car ride back. Back and back to crucify him on my wisteria.’
‘What happened then?’
‘There was a bump, a horrible soft bump, as the bent car aerial pierced his side. John spread his arms out against the wall and the car pinned him against the wisteria. The dead twigs drooped down on his head, which fell to one side and he was dead. I looked up at the house and I could see Tom sitting in the dining-room window. He had no idea what had happened. He just saw me looking at him so he picked up Mother’s arm and made her wave.’
There is a long silence. The psychiatrist looks at me and flicks back through his notes.
‘And all this happened after you had the hysterectomy?’ he asks.
I nod. That will be it. We had come at last to a conclusion. The hysterectomy. I was hysterical. That was it. There was nothing else wrong. How stupid I am.
Love,
Eve
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