Haven't They Grown(32)

‘I don’t want to find you outside my house or in my wife’s car again, Mrs Leeson.’

‘I know you don’t, Kevin. I wouldn’t want that either, if I were you.’



I’m sitting in my room in the dark when Zannah comes in and switches on the light. ‘Are you hiding?’ she says. ‘Dad said he couldn’t find you.’

‘He didn’t look very hard, then. What time is it?’

‘Twenty past ten.’

I’m about to say ‘at night?’ but stop myself in time. The curtains are open and it’s dark outside. ‘Ben’s not still playing Fortnite, is he?’ I ask.

‘No, he’s in bed – teeth brushed, clean pyjamas, room tidied.’ She smiles proudly. ‘I am going to make such a great parent one day.’

‘Dad should have sorted Ben out,’ I say, and it feels like a monumental effort to push out each word.

‘Yeah, or you should, as you’re his mother,’ Zannah quips. ‘Dad’s snoring in front of the world’s most boring documentary. Mum, what’s going on? Dad said you’ve barely said a word since you left the Caters’ house. Are you pissed at him? Was he, like, really annoying?’

I smile. ‘Not really. He did and said what almost anyone in his situation would do and say.’

‘So you’re all good, you and him?’

‘I’m not annoyed with him, if that’s what you mean.’

‘He also said you threatened Kevin Cater.’

‘Not in so many words.’

‘But you kind of threatened him?’

‘Kind of. Non-specifically. I just let him know that I think he and his wife are creepy liars.’

‘Mum, you should be careful. At this rate Ben’s going to have to get some of his baddest roadman mates to back you on ends.’

‘Back me on what?’

‘Ugh, you’re so old. Never mind. But that’s why you shouldn’t go round starting trouble.’

‘Because I’m too old? I’m really not that old, Zannah.’

She flops down on the bed next to where I’m sitting. ‘So what happened then?’

‘Didn’t Dad tell you?’

‘He said the kids living in that house aren’t Thomas and Emily Braid, and don’t look anything like how Thomas and Emily used to look when they were little.’

‘We were shown a photo of two young children who looked nothing like Thomas and Emily Braid. That’s true.’

‘So … how come you’re not saying, “I made a mistake, it’s all over”?’

‘Because the more I’m told and the more I see, the more certain I am that I didn’t make a mistake.’

‘Fair enough,’ she says easily.

‘Have you been revising?’

She snorts. ‘No.’

‘Zan—’

‘Tell me about the Greek changing room.’

‘What?’

‘Your Lewis Braid story about the two-thousand-pound changing room in Corfu.’

‘If I tell you, will you start revising?’

‘Definitely. Immediately afterwards. All night long.’ She grins. ‘Please?’

‘It’s nothing important or particularly interesting. Just something funny that happened when Dad and I went on holiday with Lewis and Flora to Corfu before you were born. We’d booked an apartment on a beach – literally on the sand, a few metres from the sea, beautiful sandy beach … Anyway, one day we went off in search of a restaurant serving better food than what was available nearby. Flora and Dad and I were all fine with the usual tzatziki and olives and stuff, but Lewis was appalled, pretty much from day one, by the quality of the meat at the two tavernas on the beach. He called it “grey flesh cubes on sticks”.’

‘Sticks?’

‘Kebab sticks. Anyway, he made a fuss – and when Lewis kicked off, it was impossible to ignore – so we went off looking for somewhere better and we found this hotel. It wasn’t exactly posh – really good hotels are in short supply on Greek islands – but it was certainly a step up from where we were staying, and the closest to posh that we were likely to find, and we had a lovely lunch there with meat that Lewis thought was good, but he still wasn’t happy. He was always such a perfectionist. Like, nothing could be wrong. Nothing unsatisfactory could be allowed to stand.’

‘He sounds like a twat.’ Zannah yawns.

‘You know what? I think he is, and was, but I somehow didn’t fully realise it. I was young and easily impressed and he was so entertaining, and confident. We all just kind of assumed he was brilliant because he acted as if that was beyond doubt. Anyway … the hotel’s restaurant opened out onto a swimming-pool terrace. Stunning pool: huge, with absolutely no one in it or sitting around it. Apart from us, there were only two other people eating in the restaurant. We got the impression that the hotel was pretty much empty, and by the time we were ready to pay the bill and leave, Lewis was obsessed – completely obsessed, as much as he had been before about finding decent meat – with that swimming pool.’

‘Why? Shit!’ Zannah presses all of her fingers against her forehead, then spreads them out. ‘I’m trying not to frown, so that I don’t get too wrinkly when I’m older. Anti-ageing moisturiser can only do so much. I’ve got to train myself to be surprised without scrunching up my face. Why did Lewis suddenly get obsessed with a swimming pool?’