‘Why isn’t he here, then?’
‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘Know what… ?
‘I thought you knew.’
‘It seems he speaks to you more than he does me.’
‘He’s in hospital.’
‘What? What is it?’
‘They caught it early; they say he’s going to make a full recovery.’
I don’t have to ask anything else. I know. That recurring childhood nightmare come to roost. The big C. What does that say about me? I look towards the ceiling, divining nothing.
‘Where is he?’
‘Lara asked that they be left alone.’
He’s talking to Lara? This is ridiculous; an absurd farce.
‘I’m sorry that this is such a shock. I thought you knew.’
David turns to Tommy. ‘So, young man, big day coming down the tracks. What would you like to do on your birthday?’
Tommy is also looking up, searching.
‘We don’t want Mummy doing anything silly, now, do we, ruining it?’
‘David, what are you doing? What is this?’
‘I promised your father I’d keep an eye.’
Tommy’s hand reaches towards mine. I enfold it: so tiny.
‘Is he paying you?’
He ignores this. ‘Look at you both. You’ll catch your death.’
‘I doubt very much my father is aware of the perks…’
I push past him into the kitchen, Tommy’s hand still inside mine, the animals following, take the pot with the curry in it and scrape it all into the bin. I pour water for the animals, get a glass for myself and Tommy. Run the tap, fill the glass, tip it out, fill it again, sip, then tip, then fill.
‘Can’t be that hard, Sonya, pouring a glass of water.’
I turn to look at him. ‘It’s my house, I’ll pour my water whatever goddam way I like.’ There’s something about the way he’s standing, taking up so much space, being all proprietorial and invasive. I wasn’t making it up – it happened, right here, in this spot.
I say what I should’ve said then: ‘David, this is my home and I’d like you to leave.’
He fixes his jumper around his shoulders, making sure each sleeve is dangling evenly. I don’t feel the urge to laugh.
‘She doesn’t really mean that, does she, Tommy? Mummy never really knows what she means.’
He moves to pick Tommy up.
‘David, put him down.’
Tommy is all harsh angles and held breath.
‘David, I said put him down, NOW.’
‘Ok, ok, less of the dramatics, Sonya.’
He laughs, puts Tommy down, tickles him awkwardly.
Tommy wraps his arms around his sides.
‘For all your talk of boundaries, you really don’t have a clue,’ I say.
He fixes his shirt collar.
‘Are you listening to me?’
His hand moves reflexively towards a worn spot on his jumper sleeve, his thumb circling.
‘I am asking you to leave.’
He makes no move. I look at Tommy, who’s kneeling, his arms around the animals. I speak softly.
‘David…’
He leans in closer. I know exactly what needs to be said and in what tone. Slow and deliberate, clearly articulated, space between each word.
‘We – Don’t – Want – You – Here.’
He draws back as if smacked. Something in his bearing has shifted. I have done it. It’s not the first time he has heard those words and they almost crease him in two. That flash of insight, almost blinding, and I see him as a boy, wearing someone else’s clothes. We don’t want you here. I have to stop myself jumping in there to make it better.
‘Sonya.’ He moves towards me.
I turn my face away.
‘You’re confused.’
‘No confusion.’ And it’s true: there are no warring voices, no conflicting impulses. There is no denying or minimising what happened. Instinct finally on track, intact.
‘I’m going to take Tommy for his shower, and by the time we’re finished I’d like you to be gone. Leave the key on the front table.’
‘You’re making a big mistake, Sonya. I will have to notify the authorities.’
A low humming sound buzzes in the air.
In front of my eyes, a spilling shadow, a shifting of form, of substance. I blink hard.
‘Yaya?’
‘It’s ok, darling.’
‘Sonya? Are you going to have one of your fits?’ David says.
I rub my eyes, turn to look at Tommy, who sticks his thumb in his mouth.