‘Gregory Peck,’ Ray mumbled.
‘That’s the one. Yeah.’
A woman in a headscarf who had been walking her miniature collie nearby called out the dog’s name harshly and then, when he didn’t come to heel, put two fingers between her lips and whistled. And strangely enough, it was that whistle, that sound alone which made my legs shake and my eyes fill, not any of the others. That sound alone.
‘Oh shit,’ Ray said, ‘Doug’s heading back this way . I’m off.’ Ray scarpered.
Doug was strolling back in the general direction of the house. He was wiping his hands on the seat of his trousers. He seemed extremely interested in the condition of the flowering borders. At one point, I swear it, he stopped and removed a dead flower head.
Saleem turned to me. ‘Phil,’ she said, gently, ‘maybe you should find some rope and cordon the greenhouse off, make sure it’s safe before someone gets hurt over there. We’ll handle Doug. Between the two of us. Me and Nancy.’
I nodded. I turned. I went to get some rope, a canvas sack, some tape and a large, strong, natural fibred, needle-bristled brush.
It was arduous, it was risky and it took just about forever. I wondered where the hell Ra y had got to. I couldn’t imagine he was helping Nancy and Saleem with Doug at the house. And he certainly wasn’t here, helping me, clearing away the glass and mud and metal and vegetables. More than likely he was on the tennis courts, weeding.
I was almost glad to be alone. Things were moving slowly. I was moving slowly. Like something newly born, inhabiting a fresh and different body; testing out what I could and couldn’t do, establishing my limited capabilities.
Luckily the damage to the greenhouse was acute but also clearly defined. After a few hours of sweeping and chipping, of taping up sharp corners, of knocking out half-spent panes, I managed to clamber on to the tractor, clear out some of the glass, pull away the axe-head from the accelerator pedal, straighten out one of the mudguards which had bent and hit its tyre, and then switch on the ignition. Using my dodgy foot, my dodgy arm, I stuck the gears into reverse and roared on out of there.
I looked up nervously, as I reversed. I looked up at the glass ceiling and waited for a reaction, waited for it to shatter and crumble, but nothing happened. It kept its clarity.
And this was the curious part: I had so many other things on my mind - so much to keep in my head - but all the while I felt like everything was flowing. A liquid sensation. Maybe it was the blood in me, travelling through my body, blooming in my face, my cheeks, but then moving on, carrying on, flowing. And I should have been thinking and sorting and planning in my head, organizing, controlling, but in fact all I could think of were natural things. Concrete things. Physical substances. Substance. Nature. Bark, rock, soil, water.
And gradually I started thinking about water and rock. How they are the two most extreme substances, two opposite poles, and yet, and yet they can work together. They can work together and be together and live together and although they both have their own energy, their own terrible strength and power, at the same time, they do not violate each other. Because that’s how nature moves, how it works. It cooperates. And that’s how I wanted to move - no more smashing and crashing and thumping and punching, I wanted to move like the water around the rock. And that was how I had been moving, all along, if only I’d seen it.
‘Hey, Phil.’
What was I doing? I was in the greenhouse, standing amid the wreckage, and I was holding one of Doug’s giant onions and gazing at it.
‘Nice onion,’ Ray said, staring at me quizzically.
I imagined how this onion was inside. Layer upon layer of clean white flesh, containing, enveloping, pure and thorough. A circle. Each layer complete and depending. Each layer sharp and moist and spotless. It was so beautiful.
‘Maybe you should sit down for a minute?’ Ray took the onion from me and threw it into a wheelbarrow. ‘Won’t be able to eat that,’ he said, regretfully. ‘When they get too big they taste all watery. Don’t taste of anything, in fact.’
Ray led me outside. My leg and arm had both started to stiffen, and the dried blood inside my nostrils itched like crazy. I sat down for a moment on the grass verge. Ray appraised the tractor. He kicked a wheel. He cleared out some glass from under the pedals.
‘Not too bad,’ he said, cheerfully, ‘doesn’t look too bad after its big ordeal.’ He stared at me again. ‘You should go home for a while. Maybe put your feet up for a couple of hours.’
‘Have you been back to the house yet?’
He nodded.
‘How’ s Doug?’
Ray cleared his throat. ‘Lying low.’
‘What’s he doing?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Actually . . .’ I tried to straighten my thoughts out. ‘This morning when I found the greenhouse all messed up and I got into that fight with Wu . . .’
‘Yeah.’
‘Nancy was there. She just appeared from nowhere. And it was six in the morning, a good three hours before she usually gets in for work.’
‘Probably out for a run.’ Ray said, distractedly, and then added, ‘I just weeded the tennis courts.’
My head was throbbing. Ray climbed into the tractor and started up the engine. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator a few times and then put it into gear.
‘Climb in,’ he yelled. ‘I’ll give you a lift back to the house if you like.’
‘What about this?’
I pointed towards the greenhouse. There was still plenty of work left to be done. Ray waved his giant paw at me. ‘I’ll park this thing in the barn and then head straight on back.’
I struggled up and clambered on to the passenger seat. I hoped the tractor’s vibrating wouldn’t start my nose off bleeding again. As a cautionary measure I breathed through my mouth, very gently. While I breathed, I inspected my sleeves and shirt-front which were brown and heavy with dried blood. I scratched at it softly with my thumbnail as Ray and I jerked along, between the lakes, past the museum, past the toilets, a sharp right turn and then into the barn. The fabric was scratchy and hard. Stiff and solid and starched with plasma.
I was too slow. Something was very wrong with my head. I couldn’t keep up, keep pace, keep time. I stood in the courtyard for several minutes before I’d accumulated enough energy to even consider going into the house. Instead I stood staring stupidly at the rows of privet bushes, little green sentries standing to attention, properly apportioned. Sharply ranked. I stared at them for a while. Ray had gone. Everything was quiet.
I knew there was something that I should be thinking but I couldn’t think it. What was it? Did the privet need watering? I felt the base of one of the pots. Dry, but not too bad. I thought about fetching the hose and giving them a spray. But that wasn’t it. I looked around me. There was something else. A lack. A space. Something empty. And then it struck me. Nancy. The truck. Gone. Both gone. I turned and headed into the house.
‘Saleem? Doug?’
I pushed open the kitchen door. The air smelled damp and sweet and strange. The windows were covered in condensation. On the table, laid out, stretched out, was Cog. On his
side. He didn’t look his normal self. He wasn’t allowed, generally, to sit on the table or to lie on it. I put out my hand to touch him, to nudge him.
‘Leave him!’
Saleem was behind me. Then she was next to me and then in front of me. She grabbed hold of Cog and he lay limp as lettuce in her arms. A substantial dishcloth. Boneless.
‘What’s wrong? What’s up with the cat?’
Saleem looked hot and ragged. ‘He’s dead, stupid.’ ‘Dead?’
I put out my hand to touch him. Saleem jerked him away, out of reach.
‘Don’t do that!’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s a bit bloody late to start showing him affection now, Phil. It’s not like you ever gave a toss about him when he was alive.’
This was honestly the last thing I could
have expected. The cat dead. This hadn’t been part of the picture. It didn’t connect to anything. I stared at Saleem. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He died.’
‘Just like that? He just died? He’s not especially old. Not for a cat.’
Cog seemed irresistible, all limp. I reached out my hand again, just to touch, and this seemed to enrage Saleem. She was spitting angry.
‘Phil! Just stop it! You are starting to piss me off so badly. I mean the cat’s dead and only now do you start giving a shit about it. That’s bloody typical of you. Absolutely bloody typical. And I’m under enormous pressure too. I am. I am! And no one gives a shit about me.’ Saleem threw Cog on to the table, tossed aside her stick, yanked out a chair, sat down and burst into tears.
I wished I could die. Just die. Lie down with Cog on the table and expire. Saleem’s face was wet and glossy and extremely snotty.
Eventually I said, ‘Do you want me to bury him?’
She shrugged sulkily.
There’ s an empty flower bed at the back of the house. I could put him in there easily enough.’ She shrugged again. ‘Only,’ I said, nervously, i hardly think Nancy or Doug would appreciate seeing him dead. Not just at the moment. They’re both quite fond of him. So you and I could bury him and just pretend this hadn’t happened for a couple of days.’
Saleem wiped her face on the tablecloth. ‘OK, ‘ she said, eventually, ‘Go dig a hole. I’ll bring him out in five minutes’ time.’
I nodded. ‘By the way, ‘ I said, ‘where is Nancy?’
‘Dig the fucking hole, Phil.’
I went. I dug.
So it wasn’t much of a burial. I dug the hole. Not too deep because I found it hard to hold the spade and hard to balance and the soil seemed unusually hard, too. True to her word, after five minutes Saleem appeared holding Cog. Her face was dry and clear and she seemed, to all intents and purposes, perfectly cheerful again.
I stood aside. I wondered if I should say anything or whether Saleem herself wanted to say a few words.
‘Is that it?’ Saleem asked, staring at the hole. ‘Sure it’s deep enough?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Fine.’ She hopped forward, held Cog over the hole and unceremoniously dropped him in.
‘Cover him,’ she said and watched as I pushed over the soil. She sniffed her hands. ‘Christ,’ she said, ‘I reckon he’s already started stinking. My hands smell like old urine.’
I completed the job in silence. Saleem watched me. She made me feel self-conscious. To distract her I said, ‘Where’s Doug? In bed?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I just wondered where he was. I wondered how he was.’
‘He’s gone.’
I froze. ‘Gone? Where?’
‘I don’t know. He just said, “I’ve had enough. I’m going.” I asked him if he’d be back for the meeting tomorrow and he said, “Bugger the meeting.” ‘
‘Doug actually said that?’
‘Yes.
‘ ‘I can’t believe he’d say that.’
Saleem’s mouth began to tighten at its corners. ‘He said it.’
‘Did he say where he was going?’
‘Nope.’
‘D’you think he went back to Mercy’s?’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’
I walked to the barn to put the spade away. As I walked I tried to think where Doug would go. I couldn’t imagine him going anywhere. This was his place. He wouldn’t leave this place.
I decided to try and ring him at Mercy’s. I was standing in the hallway, dialing, when Saleem confronted me.
‘Who are you ringing?’
‘Mercy.’
‘What for?’
‘To see if Doug’s there.’
Saleem slammed down her hand and cut me off.
‘That’ s stupid,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to get Mercy all worked up.’
I put down the receiver. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I know he’ll be back tomorrow anyway. He wouldn’t miss the meeting. Not for anything.’
Saleem eyed me. ‘Just the same . . .’
‘What?’
‘Couldn’t do any harm for you to acquaint yourself with the details of the park business, just in case he doesn’t.’
‘He will.’
‘I’m willing to bet he might not.’
‘He will. I know how he is.’
‘Even so . . .’Saleem had a couple of folders under her arm, ‘best acquaint yourself.’
I inhaled deeply. I didn’t take the folders. I said, ‘You know full well that I can’t go to the meeting. That’s Doug’s job.’
Saleem was growing impatient. ‘What will it take,’ she asked me, ‘to make you realize that you are the only person who can go? It’s up to you. Doug isn’t coming back. I know that. OK? He isn’t coming back. It’s up to you.’
‘Then we’ll cancel the meeting.’
‘We can’t cancel it. Doug’s cancelled it twice already. All the details, correspondence, everything, are in here. In the folders. Just take them.’
I shook my head. I knew Doug. He was the backbone. An organism couldn’t function - couldn’t walk or crawl or anything - without a backbone. ‘He’s coming back,’ I said, ‘that’s all I know.’
Saleem was silent for a minute. Then she said, ‘Did you read that book like I told you to? Dr John Sledge. Did you read it?’
‘Doug’s coming back.’
Saleem pushed her face up very close to mine. ‘Phil,’ she said gently, ‘you saw what Doug did this morning. He took the fucking tractor and he drove it into the greenhouse. You saw him do that, didn’t you? With your own two eyes.’
She was right in my face, I side-stepped. She side-stepped. I backed my way into the kitchen. Something was boiling. The air was full of steam. Smelled sweet and ugly.
Saleem followed me into the kitchen. She dumped the folders down on to the table and she went to open a window. I watched her. I took a slow step over towards the door.
‘Stay where you are.’ She turned, i have something to tell you. Something important.’ We had the whole table between us.
She sighed. ‘OK, so I’d hoped to keep it from you so that you wouldn’t get all worked up about it and spoil our chances at the meeting tomorrow . . .’ I opened my mouth to speak, but she said, ‘Don’t say it, Phil. Doug won’t be back for the meeting tomorrow. He won’t be, and I’ll tell you why. ‘
It was still too wet and too warm. I put my hands out and rested them on the back of a chair. I leaned on the chair. On the sideboard were a bundle of papers. On the top of these, a newspaper. It was the previous day’s Guardian.
‘Remember this?’ Saleem showed me the Guardian. I frowned back at her. ‘You know when you came in, before, and I was kind of overwrought?’
I nodded. I think I did.
‘Well to be honest with you, I don’t give a shit about that fucking cat, and I’m sure you’re aware of that fact.’
I nodded again. She pulled out a chair and sat down. She said, ‘I’ll give it to you straight, Phil.’
The chair was creaking under my weight. I was sweating. Or was I covered in condensation? A pan on the oven was boiling. Water and steam and water and steam.
‘Right,’ Saleem said, ‘now just listen. Nancy was really angry with Doug for sacking her yesterday. I tried to convince her last night that you and Ray would make sure she’d be all right. I told her you’d stand up for her against Doug. Well, unfortunately, she wasn’t convinced. She was angry with Doug. She went and destroyed his greenhouse this morning. I suppose she just didn’t have any faith in the two of you. And she loves this place as much as we do. You might not believe it, Phil but she does. Anyway , after Doug smashed up the tractor and everything she realized how stupid she’d been. Petty and everything. What a big mistake she’d made. So when Doug got back here she told him what she’d done and she told him she’d done it. I guess her timing wasn’t up to much, well, she’s already prove
d that quite conclusively, if her driving is anything to go by.
‘Anyhow , Doug literally went wild. He felt terribly betrayed. He was yelling and throwing his fists about and he said he’d destroy the whole damn park. I mean he was just crazy. Even I was scared. Nancy was scared too. She ran to the truck, got out her gun - actually it’s more like a starting pistol, I think she uses it when she goes motorcross racing or something - and Doug stopped dead in his tracks, but not for long. After a second Doug lunged at her. Nancy’s tough, though. She stepped back, tried to get away, but found herself up flat against the back of her truck. She couldn’t step back any further. And Doug was getting closer. And then . . . and then . . .’
Saleem’s eyes were as large and round as two plates spinning on the end of two sticks. ‘And then she just, kind of, shot him. In the foot. I think it was his foot because he staggered and jumped around on one leg for a while.
‘Nancy yanked down the tail of her truck and pushed him inside. I mean it took literally five seconds. Doug was still distracted and slightly off balance. Then she closed the back gate. Doug was locked in there. I tried to ask her what she thought she was doing but it all happened so quickly. She just said, “He won’t do this to us. He’s not going to bully us any more. I’m taking him away. I’m going to keep him locked in there until he sees sense. As long as it takes.” Then she jumped into her cab, started up the engine and drove off. And that was that.’
I stared at the window, the point just behind Saleem’s right shoulder. Drips of condensation were making patterns on its surface. I wondered what the patterns meant.
‘Say something.’
I shook my head. My wet head. I couldn’t believe Nancy would behave so stupidly. I closed my eyes. I opened my eyes. The drips on the window spelled the word muddy. I blinked. It was gone. I said, ‘Nancy wouldn’t do something as stupid as that.’
‘But you would say that, wouldn’t you?’
‘What?’
Saleem’s lips were thin and white. ‘Yeah. You know what I mean.’
She had lost me, finally.
‘Saleem, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
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