Sweet Sorrow(104)



‘Where were you?!’ Harper stood on the doorstep with the sheepishness that comes with great success.

‘Just woke up. How did you do?’

‘Good! Really good. I mean better than I thought, because I did, you know, absolutely fuck-all work!’ Even at the moment of his triumph, Harper was determined not to admit to opening a book. ‘“B”s mostly, couple of “A”s. Enough for college.’

‘And me?’

‘You’re not going to go and see?’

‘No, you can tell me.’

He sucked air in through his teeth, a bad football result. ‘It’s not good, mate.’

I laughed. ‘I know. That’s why I’m not going.’

‘There’s two “B”s in there.’

‘Really?’

‘I think so. You did better than Lloyd!’

‘Well, that’s something.’

‘Doesn’t matter anyway, does it? In the long run.’

‘No. Exactly. Doesn’t matter.’

We’d been standing on the doorstep for too long. ‘I’d invite you in, but—’

‘No, that’s fine. We’re going to try to get served in The Angler’s if you want to …’

‘No, that’s fine.’

‘Okay.’ But he hesitated, and I sensed there was something more. ‘Your mum phoned me yesterday.’

‘She did?’

‘Yes. She told me what had happened. With the police and everything.’

‘Christ, Mum.’

‘I think she wanted me to check you were all right. So …’

‘I’m all right.’

‘Your back’s okay? The cuts and everything.’

‘It’s fine.’

‘Good. Good.’

‘You don’t need to check up on me.’

‘Okay. Good.’

But he wasn’t done yet.

‘Charlie, bit embarrassing; this whole stealing-money thing. If it does go to court, if it gets criminal – you won’t mention my name, will you? I’d rather not be involved.’

And then, and there, any hold that Harper had over me was broken and I could laugh at him too.

‘What is this bullshit, Charlie, about you dropping out?’

It was Alina this time. ‘I’m sorry, Alina, I’ve explained this once to Ivor.’

‘It’s very, very unprofessional.’

‘Well, I’m not a professional, so …’

‘Hm.’ I heard her exhale down the phone. ‘George is no good.’

‘George is great!’

‘You’re right, he’s technically a much better actor than you, but he’s no good in this role. He’s too distinctive. You, Charlie, you have a faceless, milk-and-water quality that is just perfect.’

‘Thank you, Alina.’

‘No offence, but the character needs someone neutral.’

‘Well, I’m sorry.’

‘The cast aren’t happy, Charlie.’

‘Like I said—’

‘None of us are happy. It can’t be allowed. Not when you’ve worked so hard.’ There was a crackle on the line, a secret cigarette. ‘Charlie, many of the young people I work with, they know they’re good, they’re told they’re good and they will continue to be good. Good, competent and able. Well, bravo to them but really, what’s the point in that? To be no good and then to get so much better – that’s why we do it. You are why we do it. Without you – what’s the point?’

Some time passed.

‘I’ve got to go,’ I said. ‘Alina – I’m sorry.’

I hung up the phone.

My father was awake now but still not ready to sit upright. I brought him tea and he groaned as I opened the curtains. I closed them again.

‘Why does the phone keep ringing? And who was at the door?’

‘Just friends.’

‘You’re popular.’

I laughed. ‘I am!’

Some time passed.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t get up yet.’

‘That’s all right.’

‘My head.’

‘No, you sleep.’

‘Have you been to the school?’

‘No. No point.’

He went to speak, then hesitated. ‘Worth checking though.’

‘Maybe.’

And there was more silence, time that had the quality of a missed cue. I searched for the line, and …

‘I don’t think you should drink if you’re taking anti-depressants.’

He frowned. ‘No, I know.’

‘They don’t work if you do. There’s side effects. And I worry. We all do. That’s one of the side effects, us worrying. It’s not fair.’

‘I know.’

‘What happened anyway?’

‘It … got out of hand. That’s all.’

‘Do we need to, do you want to … talk about it?’

‘No.’

‘Because I can’t be putting you in the bath again, Dad, it’s really gross.’

He smiled. ‘Well, you too. I can’t be picking you up off the street.’

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