A Terrible Kindness(80)
‘Still away. Comes back in two days. But heartbroken, William. Heartbroken.’
He’s empty, can’t think of anything to say.
‘Just stay in touch, all right?’
‘I’ve promised.’
‘You’d better. Anyway, the reason I’m calling is to let you know I’ve just forwarded something to you in the post from your mother, and I’m not asking, I’m telling. You must open this one, William. And if you need to talk about it, I’m on the end of the line. Any time, night or day.’
His mouth has gone dry. Is she ill? He’s spent years ignoring his mother and justifying his behaviour to himself, but he’s always known at some point, he’ll have to square up to it all.
‘Suppose there’s no point me asking you what it is?’ He attempts a lightness of tone.
‘It’s her news, not mine.’
53
‘So,’ says Martin to the group, scraping his hand through his thick hair. ‘There’s a spring festival at my old college next week, which means we get another chance to hear the “Miserere”. Hands up who wants to come?’
Every hand goes up. Fifteen here tonight. Colin leans towards William smiling, and grasps his cuff to lift his hand up. William snatches it away so quickly Colin flinches.
Martin hasn’t warned him about this. He feels tricked. ‘I’m not going.’
‘Why not?’ asks Colin. Everyone’s listening. ‘It’s free.’
‘I know. I just don’t fancy it.’ William looks round and sees Jenny’s watchful gaze on him.
‘So, seventeen of us then,’ Martin says without so much as a glance his way. ‘Marvellous. And cocoa afterwards at the Copper Kettle.’
A few of them cheer.
‘Are you really not going to come?’ Martin sits with a cup of tea on the settee later that night.
William shakes his head, still embarrassed at his reaction to Colin.
Martin puts his arm across the back of the sofa and looks at William for a moment. ‘We’ve never talked about it, have we? Your “Miserere”.’
‘No,’ William says from the other end of the long settee, ‘and I’m grateful that you haven’t tried.’
Martin frowns. ‘But you loved that piece of music. Why deprive yourself because of one unfortunate incident over half your life ago?’
William stares at Martin, teeth sinking into the soft sides of his mouth.
‘The music is still the music, it’s bigger than one choirboy’s cock-up. It’s bigger and better than that’ – he takes a drink of tea – ‘and so should you be.’
‘Back off, Martin.’ William’s on his feet, a mug in his hand that needs to be flung against something. ‘You think you know everything about me, but you don’t know how it feels. That’s what I can’t cope with. How it feels!’
Martin stands too, less than a foot away from him, and gently takes the mug from his hand.
‘Well, ponder this, Mr Damaged,’ he says softly, ‘you don’t know how I felt when I kissed you. Trust me, you have no idea. Or when you let the other boys think I’d molested you. If I’d let those things be more important than the people involved, I wouldn’t have talked to you when I saw you outside college with Gloria, and I certainly wouldn’t have let you come and live with me.’
It’s true, of course. Every word Martin says is true. What if he’d chosen differently? What if all that had happened could have made him a bigger person? If each disaster had been a crossroads at which he could have taken a better path? It’s too painful to dwell on.
‘I’m not coming.’ William puts his hands in his pockets. ‘I’ve sung with you, I’ve listened to music I swore I’d never listen to again, but I’m not going back to that chapel to hear that piece of music.’
‘The men will be disappointed,’ Martin calls after him as he leaves the room.
‘I’m sure they’ll get over it,’ William calls back. ‘Goodnight.’
He gets changed, washes briefly in the bathroom, then walks over to the small mantelpiece over the blocked-up fireplace and picks up the small rectangle of thick white card with wavy gold edging.
Evelyn and Frank invite you to their wedding
All Saints’ Church, Mumbles
Saturday 4th May at 2 p.m.
And afterwards at the Langland Court Hotel.
(Apologies for short notice, we decided life’s too short to waste any chance of happiness)
At the bottom, in the familiar italic script he was so skilled at forging, she has written, Time to move on? It would mean the world to me if you came.
? ? ?
The severed arm is warm and wet in his hands.
‘Take this outside,’ Jimmy says. ‘Hold it up and ask the parents whose child it belongs to.’
‘I can’t!’ he says.
Jimmy is shoving from behind. ‘Yes, you can!’
He’s struggling to turn and run back inside. Jimmy pushes him again and he stumbles out into the crowd of mothers. They’re mauling him, trying to get the arm. His chest heaves in and out; a terrible screaming starts. Strong hands are clasped round both his arms.