Tin Man(17)

She said, Show me the card now, and he held up his birthday card, a picture of an anxious-looking egg with the words, I’m cracking up, written above it.

That’s funny, she said. What’s it say inside? and he pushed the card across the table to her.

Happy Birthday Dad from Ellis, she said. She looked across at Ellis and mouthed, Thank you.

They sang Happy Birthday to him (he joined in near the end) and he blew out the candles with his cap on. There were seven candles for a man of seventy-six. Carol didn’t explain why, it was probably all she had left in the drawer. Len cut his cake and Carol prompted him to make a wish, which he did, and Ellis thought, how is it possible I was afraid of this man?

They said little as they ate the cake, the sound of forks scraping against plates, the sound of glasses as toasts were made and beer was drunk. The room became hot and Ellis took off his sweater and Carol’s eyelashes slapped against her cheek as she stared at his plaster cast.

Ellis instinctively rubbed his arm and said, It’s just a joke, Carol. A mate wrote it for a joke. She doesn’t exist.

Oh, Ell, she said, and she really did look disappointed. I thought—

I know, he said, quietly.

I really did think there was something you were going to tell us, she said.

There is, actually.

Go on, she said.

I’ve decided to leave work. For good, I mean. When this is off.

Silence.

The sound of the bloody clock. The sound of his father taking off his cap.

Oh, here we go, thought Ellis. (Bit tight now, would have been better in brown. What were you thinking? Still got the receipt?) Just like that? said his father.

No. Not just like that. Ellis smiled. I’ve given it a lot of thought.

Who’ve you spoken to?

Bill McAuliffe. In personnel.

So it’s official?

Yes.

His father finished his beer. It was a job for life, you know, he said.

I’ll be fine, said Ellis.

What are you going to do?

The garden for the time being. One-handed of course, and he winked at Carol.

Gardening? said his father.

I find it peaceful.

His father scoffed and stared at his empty beer glass. And for money? he asked.

I still have Michael’s, said Ellis.

Now you stop that, Leonard, said Carol, breaking the silence. He said he’ll be fine and he’ll be fine. You be happy for him now and that’s an order. Put your cap back on. Be handsome again.

Ellis stood in the back garden, smoking. Lights from the Car Plant spilt across the darkening sky. He heard the back door open and close. Carol, of course. Smelt her before he could see her. He’d never asked them when the affair began but always presumed it ran along invisible tracks parallel to his parents’ marriage. Mum had the painting and he had Carol. Truce.

I’m glad you’re not going back there, she said. Some are cut out for it, others aren’t. I don’t think you ever were, not really. You’ve been there a long time, Ell.

He nodded.

Too long, I reckon. I always said, When he behaves out of the ordinary, then I can stop worrying. It’s hard being born here, breathing this air. It becomes part of you, whether you want it to or not. Those lights become dawn and dusk.

Mum used to say that.

Did she? We were friends once.

I never knew that.

In the early days, we were. But then she seemed to withdraw. Rarely went out with your dad any more. Maybe it was being a new mum. I reckon you were enough for her. Lucky Dora, we used to say.

Ellis put his arm around her shoulder.

She said, I did try and get him to change his mind about school, all them years ago.

I know you did. I was always grateful.

It was hard for us, wasn’t it? Getting to know each other?

We know each other now, said Ellis.

Yeah.

And you know you’re too good for him.

I know, said Carol, and they laughed.

Do you think he’s all right? said Ellis, looking back to the house.

Course he is. He’s just used to being a bastard. He’s one of them men who discovered later on that he’s got a heart. Makes him a better dancer.

He dances?

When we go away he does. Won’t do it round here in case anyone sees him. Says he’s got a reputation to think about. What reputation? I say. Everyone’s moved away. He’s a nice little dancer. Takes it seriously, too. I reckon he thinks he’s a little bit in the movies when he sweeps around. Are you happy, Ell?

Happy?

Christ! You say the word as if you don’t know what it means.

I’m . . . hopeful.

Hopeful’s a good word. You got a nice laugh, Ell.

Annie used to say that.

Life gets it wrong sometimes, doesn’t it?

Did you find Mum’s painting, by the way?

Oh God, course we did. We didn’t get rid of it—

– No, I’m sure you didn’t.

Let me go and ask your dad. He’s in charge of things like that.

And she turned and went back towards the light of the kitchen.

A few minutes later, the back door opened again and his father appeared. Ellis watched him stumble across the lawn towards him, and thought his father looked like a boy in his new cap and his ill-fitting jacket, and he thought he looked so unsure of himself in this modern world because he saw none of it coming, not old age nor old thinking.