Our Kind of Cruelty(22)

‘Oh.’ Kaitlyn tapped her finger against the glass of her screen. ‘All done. I’ve emailed them to you.’

‘Thanks.’ I went back to my desk feeling no better. I wished I hadn’t gone to see Kaitlyn; everything about her was irritating. I didn’t like the way she looked at me, as if she was peeling back my skin with her eyes.

My mobile rang and I saw Elaine’s name flashing on the screen. I had ignored so many of her calls, but this one I answered, a rush of need spreading through me at just the thought of her.

‘Mike,’ she said, sounding shocked. ‘Goodness, is that actually you?’

I laughed. ‘Sorry, I’ve been so busy since I got home. I’ve been meaning to call you.’

She snorted. ‘How are you, love?’

‘Really good.’

‘Are you settling into your new house?’

‘You must come and see it.’ But even as I said the words I cringed at the thought of her and Barry in the space and how they would never understand it.

‘Well, I’d love to. But actually I was ringing to see if you’d like to come out for lunch this Sunday?’

It felt as though I could taste her words and there was something intoxicating about them. ‘I’d love to.’

‘Oh, super. We’ve got a new boy just started with us and I’d love you to meet him.’

Sundays were a good day to fill as it was hard to watch over V at the weekend.



The journey to Aylesbury was shorter than I had anticipated, so I ended up ringing on Elaine and Barry’s doorbell at twelve o’clock. Elaine answered in her apron, the house fugged up with the smell of roast dinner behind her. Her face leapt into a smile when she saw me and she pulled me towards her, folding me back into her warm, earthy smell. Stepping into the house felt like stepping through time, as if I really could push through space and arrive somewhere different. And yet nothing was different; it was all completely the same. The same worn carpet on the stairs, the same oval table under the mirror loaded down with keys and letters, the same cracked lino on the kitchen floor, the same ancient oven which billowed smoke, the same washing line hanging across the garden, the same wooden table on which we would later eat.

Barry came in from the garden and I saw his roses resplendent behind him. ‘Mike, my boy,’ he said, advancing towards me and wrapping me in another hug. He felt fatter, I thought, although Elaine was perhaps slimmer. ‘Well, well, look at you,’ he said, standing back.

I looked down at myself and saw my polished brogues, my pressed chinos, my crisp blue shirt. It was almost embarrassing in this house. But Barry got us a beer and we sat in the garden and Elaine tried to sit with us, but kept jumping up to perform another task, making Barry roll his eyes at me. The conversation felt weary as soon as it began and there were times when I didn’t know how I was going to answer all their questions. But at the same time I didn’t want to leave; at that moment I could have sat in the garden forever.

Just as we were sitting down to lunch the front door slammed and a tall, lanky boy came into the kitchen.

‘Oh good,’ Elaine said, ‘you’re just in time.’

He came and sat at the table and I could see his chest moving and the sweat on his skin. It reminded me of all the times I had run home to eat Elaine’s food. He kept his eyes fixed on his hands in front of him.

‘Mike,’ Elaine said, ‘this is Jayden. Jayden this is Mike – you know I told you about him. Mike was with us for longer than any other child we’ve ever had.’

He nodded over towards me. ‘All right.’

I smiled back. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘A couple of months.’

Barry stood up to carve, while Elaine ladled potatoes, carrots, parsnips and Yorkshire puddings on to our plates. Sunday lunch in Elaine’s kitchen never changed, whatever the weather. I wanted to ask Jayden why he was here but knew better. I estimated him to be about thirteen or fourteen and from the hungry way he ate his food I could probably guess the answer anyway.

‘Jayden’s mad keen on football,’ Barry said, which I knew must please him as I had sat and tried to keep my eyes open on plenty of Saturday nights while Match of the Day droned away on the television.

‘D’you know the scores?’ Jayden asked, his mouth disgustingly full of food.

‘No, don’t tell me,’ Barry said, holding his hand over his ears and making Jayden laugh, and I wished suddenly I had been able to play this game with him. I knew all at once that Jayden had my room and that he would have put up his own posters and hung his clothes in the wardrobe and that it would already feel like a mini home to him. Elaine and Barry were laughing at something he’d said, which I’d missed, and the chair felt weak and insubstantial beneath me. Things did change and move on, even love.

Elaine reached over and put her hand over mine. ‘Oh, it’s so lovely to have you here, Mikey. We’ve missed you, haven’t we, Barry?’

‘We certainly have,’ Barry said. ‘While you’ve been off wheeling and dealing.’

‘Did you really live in New York?’ Jayden asked.

‘Yes.’ My throat felt strangely clogged.

‘Mega.’

‘But what else has been going on in your life?’ Elaine asked. ‘Any nice lady I should know about?’