by Will Davis
Al's like, We're really sorry. We just wanted to see who you were dating . . .
Higgs is like, Humph, but Fellows is like, You may as well know that Henry here is my partner.
Higgs' face lights up, but he goes to Fellows, Mike – we've only just met! in this hushed romantic voice, as if he's Scarlett O'Hara or something.
Fellows is like, Sometimes you can just tell.
He's not talking to us. At this point it seems inevitable that they're going to start snogging again, so I'm like, deadening my senses in preparation for it. But they don't. Instead Higgs pulls himself together and goes, Well, Jarold. Is this going to be a topic in our next session?
I'm like, Are you crazy? which seems to please him. That's when I realise that I'm actually kind of glad he's a fag too, though my gaydar must be pretty way off, 'cos it's like, how come I didn't guess? But it makes me feel, well, validated if you must know, not that I'm the kind of guy who has a problem with what other losers think, because I really don't. But it's nice to see that you can still pull after forty, and maybe even stand a chance of happiness (even if it doesn't last - me and Al have bets on how long it'll be). I kind of like being here, sitting in this square kitchen and sipping tea, and being all young and inexperienced next to this pair of queer old boffs.
23
On Saturday we go to take Grandma to Whitehart Homes. She's got a lot of stuff, most of which has been stored in the garage all left over from her house with Grandpa. In order to shift it all Mum borrows an extra car from her practice, which is just as well because The Nun's friend Joan (alias The Witch) is along for the ride.
I come downstairs to help with the loading of the cars even though no one's bothered to ask me. Things are worse than ever with Mum and Dad now, like they don't even want to be in the same room as me, even if that means I don't do my chores. Like, yesterday I forgot to clean the bathroom though it was my turn, and Mum didn't say anything. At first I thought it was pretty cool, but then when I went in and saw she'd done it and still hadn't said anything I felt kind of disturbed.
Anyway I go outside to where all the ferrying is and straight away run into The Witch, who sees me and makes this muttering sound and then looks right in my eyes. She's like, Hello Jarold, Teresa told me all about what happened and I just want to remind you that the door to forgiveness is always open, all in one breath like she's been storing it up to say to me.
I look between her and The Nun, all stunned. Some of the things this girl comes out with are scary beyond the deep. Even Teresa looks a bit shamed by it, and busies herself with sorting out a pile of boxes on the back seat of Mum's car.
The Witch is like, You have to try to conquer your urges, Jarold. You have to try to think of the bigger picture.
I'm like, Just do us all a favour and have a wank.
The Witch smiles all serene, like this is just what she expected me to say. Say whatever you like, she goes, We both know who's going where.
Then she turns away and involves herself in fussing over Mum who's just come out the garage carrying this coat stand, basically acting like the second daughter she never had.
The Nun passes me and I go to her, Buy your friend a dildo or something.
I'm hoping she'll take this as a major insult and flip into Regan and then Mum or Dad'll have to intervene and it'll be just like normal, but instead she gives me this withering look like I'm a total lost cause and goes back into the garage for more of Grandma's junk. I want to say something about Joan's presence to Mum and Dad - since this is supposed to be a big-deal family thing, so why does she get to come along? But of course I can't now that they've like, given up hope for me as a human being. I've been trying to bear in mind Grandma's advice about just giving it time, but it's actually getting to be kind of painful here. I mean, did you ever see that Simpsons episode where Bart accidentally shoots a bird and Marge sees him do it and seems to stop loving him 'cos she thinks it was done on purpose? Well, it's like that. It feels like nobody really cares about me any more.
Anyway, to avoid more Christian terrorism I opt for Dad's bomb with Grandma while Mum, The Nun and The Witch take hers. Dad doesn't speak to me once throughout the whole journey there, but he tries a bit of small talk with Grandma. He's really falsely cheery, and you can totally tell he finds the whole situation between Mum and her hard to deal with, like the fact that they don't get on and all that. He keeps pointing out how nice the weather's been getting, until it gets ridiculous, and finally even Grandma gets rankled by it and tells him what she's looking forward to is the peace and quiet of the countryside (like, hint hint). Dad gets the message and shuts up.
When we arrive Grandma acts all calm and queenly. The rest of us faff around pretending to think the massive white building she's going to be living in is really beautiful, when in fact it's gross and looks like a super-sized Barbie doll's house. We get greeted by this thin woman whose face is plastered with make-up and shown to the room, which is all the colours of a wedding cake.
We spend a lot of time assembling Grandma's stuff and then putting it in various different places all around the room while she gazes out the window at the garden outside. There's all these other old folk out there, so it looks like a bit of a convention. Then she turns round and interrupts The Witch midway through some self-righteous opinion about why the coat stand should go next to the bed, and goes, Who'd like to take a turn with me?
Mum sends us out with Grandma while she stays there with Dad to make sure the room's up to scratch, since with her everything's a potential lawsuit.
Outside Grandma looks up and down the lawn and sighs. George would have loved it here, she goes.
The Nun like, grabs Grandma in this choke-hold hug and starts cooing, Oh, you mustn't miss Grandpa, he's in heaven now and watching down over us, and so forth, while Grandma smiles in this pained way like she's being clenched by this well-meaning boa constrictor. When The Nun finally releases her she and The Witch both take an arm so Grandma's, like, literally being escorted down the garden. I kind of trail along behind like this totally unwanted mutation or something.
We keep walking for a bit, and down at the end of the garden behind the hedge there's this whole bunch of old biddies doing this routine of yoga or something in skin-tight leotards. It's quite a shocker, let me tell you. I'm like, Jesus, before I can even help myself. The Nun just rolls her eyes but The Witch finds this deeply offensive. She folds her arms and goes, Actually I think it's lovely that older generations still enjoy the benefits of exercise, really pointedly at me. Grandma gives her a look like she's just dying to say something about the benefits of sex as well, but she holds it in. Instead she suggests we wander over to the pavilion at the other end of the garden. The Nun's like, I think we should get back to help Mum and Dad, but The Witch is really into her role as Grandma's personal crutch and says she'll take her on while 'you and him' go back. Grandma looks just thrilled by this prospect, but she like, resigns herself and goes, Come along then, deary, in this ironic voice to The Witch, who leads her off like a victim of a concentration camp.
Back inside the doll's house we go down the hall to Grandma's room in silence, The Nun leading the way. We stop when we reach the door though, because from inside Mum and Dad are having this argument. It's pretty weird actually, 'cos even though you get used to hearing Mum shouting at Dad at home, she's always very careful not to lose her temper with him in public. She's going, Why can't you just support me once in a while instead of just always being so bloody quiet all the time? Why can't you make an effort to understand?
Dad's going like, I do make an effort to understand—
But as per usual Mum just shouts over the top of him so in a way it's a bit like she's having an argument with herself. She's like, No you don't! You think you do but you don't! You don't care, that's your problem! You just don't care!
And so it goes on. Mum's basically just flipping one of her apocalyptic rants and Dad's doing his usual turtle thing of just bearing it out and hoping sh
e'll stop. Then from inside the room comes the traditional sound of sobbing, which means Mum's basically winding down now. But listening to it with The Nun, everything starts to feel hopeless for some reason. I mean, it's not like Mum and Dad were ever normal or anything, but somehow hearing them fighting while being with Teresa makes it seem different. It's like, what's the point of even bothering?
Do you think Mum and Dad are going to split up? she goes in this totally neutral voice.
She's looking at me with this funny look on her face, and it's a look I've seen on Grandma quite a lot, so maybe it's hereditary. I'm like, totally weirded out, partly 'cos I'm just not used to being spoken to by The Nun in any way that sounds even vaguely civil. But mostly it's because of what she actually says. Suddenly the idea of them splitting up seems like it would be a really Bad Thing.
I'm like, Who knows?
The Nun's like, Yes, who knows?
Which is a big deal 'cos it's like she's agreeing with me on something, which is something she never does even if it means going back on her religion. And what's really scary and totally unnatural in every possible way is that I actually feel this like, iota of affection for her, and I kind of remember that actually she is my younger sister. I kind of want to tell her it'll be OK or something. I rack my brains for something to say, but in the end all I can think of is what I did to her stupid tree.
So I'm like, Listen, about your tree - if you want I'll help you plant a new one. We can dig up all the old roots and stuff and put it in the exact same place . . .
I trail off, partly because I've just realised how incredibly lame I sound, but also because The Nun's smiling at me. It's the kind of smile you don't very often see on someone like her. A sort of smart smile, like actually she knows what's what.
She's like, It's OK. Mum and Dad are getting me a horse.
She tells me that basically they're pouring all this money into co-sponsoring a pony at this local stable with her and a friend at school. I'm like, total state of suspended disbelief. I kind of want to get angry about it, but I hold it in. It just goes to show though what kind of a world it is, because you'd think that a tree like Rabbity's should be pretty irreplaceable. But in this life everything's got a value, and that's one thing The Nun's clued up on. I guess it's good for her.
She's like, I'm glad you came back, you know.
I'm like, Gee.
At this point The Witch comes clumping down the corridor towards us with her head held all high so her upper chin looks like this mountain ridge next to the rest of her face. She comes to a halt beside The Nun and goes, I've left your grandma talking to another pensioner. They seem to be getting on really well! as though Grandma is a codename for this rare sociological experiment she's really proud to be taking part in. Then she glances at me and goes to her, Have you managed to talk any sense into him? like I'm not there or something.
I'm like, Fuck off.
The Witch is like, to me, I thought that was your speciality, and then she goes to The Nun, Is he planning on running away again? all smug.
She takes The Nun's arm and sighs like it's always them who have to pick up the pieces after the world's been blown to smithereens. Let's just hope if he does this time he has the sense to stay away, she goes like Superbitch.
The Nun looks at me and then at The Witch, all fastened to her arm like some exotic species of sucker fish. Then she's like, Joan this is a family matter so do you think you could mind your own business please?
The Witch's face like, melts. She looks like one of those aliens who's secret vulnerability has just been exposed, like a fatal allergy to the truth or something. She gapes at The Nun for a second and then goes, I'm going to wait in the car! She turns on her heel and clomps off. I'm kind of impressed but I don't say anything, and at this point Mum and Dad come out of the room wanting to know what we've done with Grandma.
Once we've located her we return her to the room and leave her sat by the window, in this new armchair that has all these buttons you can press to like, make it vibrate and massage you and stuff (I've a go and it's totally like being molested). We all line up to kiss her on the cheek and it's totally weird to think she's not gonna be living with us at home any more. Like, I can even take my old room back if I want it.
Just a minute, Lois, goes Grandma as we're leaving.
Mum hesitates and then waits so we all go out to the cars, which are parked right outside Grandma's window. The Witch is sitting inside Mum's company car with her eyes closed, probably praying or something. We've got a pretty clear view of Grandma saying something to Mum, and then we watch Mum nod her head really slowly. She takes Grandma's hand and holds it for a minute, and it's like they're actually bonding or something. Then Mum disappears and a second later she comes out. She's totally messy-looking, and I wait for Dad to say something nice to her. But he doesn't say anything, he just gets in his car and looks at me as if to say, Are you coming? so I climb in too, and off we go.
24
Okay, so this scene now is like, Full On. It's the next therapy session, and it's like, stellar weird. Mum and Dad are hardly even talking to each other, and now that Higgs is like, dating my teacher it's kind of like Fellows is somehow there in the room with us too. By the way, it's all complete schlock coming up - stop reading if you've got like, taste or anything. Either that or at least prepare your bucket.
We're all sitting in our usual places - me on the armchair, Dad and Mum on the couch and Higgs on the chair in front of his desk. It's actually kind of funny, 'cos the space between Mum and Dad on that sofa has grown and grown over our sessions, and now it looks properly stupid, like there's enough room for a trapdoor there.
Higgs is in flawless computer mode, which is probably pretty understandable. I mean, we've crossed a boundary outside of the therapy, and it's a pretty personal one at that. I didn't tell Mum and Dad about it of course, but I'm kind of terrified that he's going to. But he doesn't, thankfully. He just throws himself into his role and smiles this totally airbrushed smile and goes, So who'd like to begin? in this firm but very disinterested sort of way, just like a compassionate robot would sound. You can't help but wonder what it's like with him - you know (though it's a major freak-out to even consider it).
Anyway, there's this pause and I'm tempted to say something for once, since I kind of feel like this is my only chance to somehow make Mum and Dad actually listen to me. I've noticed that how it works is that Higgs usually lets me just sit here while he asks them the questions, and I've kind of realised that these sessions are actually totally about them and not about me at all. Me being here is just Higgs showing them that I'm a normal human being whereas they're the ones who are completely fucked. But the only thing I can think of to say is that I'm sorry, for like, the zillionth time, and I'm totally through saying sorry, since it's not like it changes anything. So in the end I decide not to say something, just to wait.
Soon enough Mum draws this deep breath which is usually the signal that she's going to launch into one of her major rants. I swear I catch this little jerking movement from Higgs, like he has this automatic urge to dive for cover under his chair or something. But then Mum suddenly stops short. Her face kind of sets in this blank, hopeless expression, like she's thinking, What's the point? She sighs and doesn't say anything. It's like, total Manic-depressivesville.
So we all sit there for like, a whole five minutes, just not speaking, and it's like an explosion of awkwardness. Then Mum looks at Dad and suddenly her face changes. She goes What's that? and then reaches into one of Dad's pockets and pulls out this packet of Marlboro Reds.
Dad tries to do one of those Oh-how-on-earth-did-that-get-there? reactions, managing to be as convincing as it's just about possible not to be. Mum turns the packet over in her hands like it's this omen or something.
She's like, You're smoking again?
Dad's like, Yeah, since the whole innocence thing blatantly isn't going to wash.
Mum's like, But . . . For how long?
> And there's this sound of silence like you'd get in a graveyard, where it seems to roar or something, and she looks at Higgs like she's expecting him to do something. He doesn't of course, he just watches them, and then Dad suddenly blurts out, Lois - I just don't feel like I know who you are any more!
Higgs leans forward. This is Big. Dad always just sits there like a frightened child while Mum goes on and on about some stupid issue - like me. She can even go on an on about just how awful she felt when she forgot to pay a bill or something, which is like, who even gives a shit?
So with Dad actually like, stating an opinion all on his own about something, we're obviously covering ground here. But Higgs still doesn't say anything. He lets Mum react, which is a pretty clever thing to do. She looks at Dad and opens her mouth in this big O, but for once nothing comes out and so it just hangs there, like she's waiting for a dentist or something. After a minute it gets embarrassing and I'm like, this is too much, I shouldn't be exposed to this, but then Dad goes, I'm sorry.
Mum's like, How long have you felt this way?
Dads like, For years.
She's like, But why didn't you say something?
He's like, Because I couldn't! It's impossible to talk to you.
Mum's like, the definition of shock. She goes totally white and her eyes go all big and scary. She looks like the Bride of Frankenstein.
Higgs is like, Would you like a glass of water?
Mum ignores him and like, chokes a bit before going to Dad, Are you trying to tell me that you don't love me any more? Is that what you're saying?
Dad thinks about this. When you ask someone something like that and they think about it, it's never good. Mum's in total spaz mode, and I actually feel kind of sorry for her. I think about what Grandma told me about how she was when she was my age, and I kind of think that maybe you can still see like, a shred of that person now. And if Dad says No it's like, probably going to destroy her.
