direction.
‘Uh.’ He didn’t even look at me. Straightened his arm, squinted down it and took aim at the television as though it were a pheasant and the remote was his shotgun.
Lucy clapped her hands impatiently, like a teacher. ‘Say hello to Jake, Matthew.’
He honoured me with a single glance, in which he managed to convey the most sincere contempt.
‘Uh. ’Lo.’ He squeezed his trigger, and the TV sprang into life.
‘It’s like living with Neanderthal Man,’ huffed Lucy, and stood up. Giving his leg a good-natured smack with a rolled-up newspaper, she headed off to the kitchen.
I made up my mind to try and have a conversation with this creature.
After all, he was human.
‘Hey, Matt, I see there’s a photo of your mother.’
‘Yeah?’ He yawned, flicking through the channels.
‘This one, here.’
Flick, flick.
‘Looks like you.’
He didn’t bother to break eye contact with the screen. ‘ Her ? Fuck off. My arse she does. Fucking nothing like me.’
I gave up. I really didn’t need to get to know him. Perhaps he wasn’t human at all. Instead, I settled back and stared at the screen too. I’m a bit of a channel flicker myself; I can watch four at once, no problem. Used to drive Anna spare.
Suddenly, on a sports network, I spotted the Big Match. I’d completely forgotten it was on. The All Blacks were playing South Africa that very night, and the first half was almost over. Hell, how could I have forgotten the Big Match?
‘Stop there, mate,’ I said. ‘I really want to watch this.’
And he actually did. In the next hour or so we were almost companionable, in a monosyllabic kind of a way. I spent quite a lot of the time dancing around about an inch in front of the screen, screaming,‘ Go , man! Go, go! Yes!’ while Matt craned his head around me and yelled, ‘Lousy pass, you fuckin’ cretin!’ Lucy and Perry came in from time to time and watched too, and mouth-watering cooking smells floated in from the kitchen.
The Springboks played elegantly but not well enough, and they lost just in time for dinner. And it was then, as we sat around Perry’s kitchen table, that my day really got weird.
Chapter Four
By the time they came to eat, David had wordlessly confiscated the gin bottle from his father. Christopher, however, had already downed enough to blind a newt. He’d slid into the bluff, old-sea-dog phase of his descent into drunkenness. As they crossed the hall he was holding forth to Elizabeth, in clipped, military tones, about the dangers of rounding the Horn in a gale.
Leila listened to his bluster with half-hearted sympathy. Retirement had been a sort of death for Christopher. He was rusting away like a derelict ship, beached and abandoned, lying on its shattered keel and dreaming of the glory days.
David swiftly surveyed the table. ‘Corkscrew,’ he muttered, and headed off to the kitchen.
Christopher darted into the seat next to Leila’s, while Hilda sank down opposite and began to make conversation with Angus. ‘Do you have a family?’ she asked, arranging herself precisely in her chair.
Angus glanced at his wife. ‘Indeed,’ he replied. ‘I have four. A gaggle of grandkids, too, who come and destroy the rectory every school holidays.’
There was something odd about the exchange. Curious, Leila was replaying it in her mind when Christopher began to whisper, his breath hovering by the glinting hoop of her earring. She edged towards Angus’s comfortable bulk at the far end, but her father-in-law was not to be put off.
‘You know what your lovely name means, don’t you, Leila?’
Leila looked bored. ‘Yes, I do actually, Christopher. You’ve told me several times.’
‘Dark as night. Dark . . . as . . . night .’
Leila leaped to her feet and lifted the lid on the casserole. The man is obscene , she thought incredulously, as she snatched up the ladle. Getting worse, too. I bet he was a southern plantation owner in another incarnation, harassing
‘Uh.’ He didn’t even look at me. Straightened his arm, squinted down it and took aim at the television as though it were a pheasant and the remote was his shotgun.
Lucy clapped her hands impatiently, like a teacher. ‘Say hello to Jake, Matthew.’
He honoured me with a single glance, in which he managed to convey the most sincere contempt.
‘Uh. ’Lo.’ He squeezed his trigger, and the TV sprang into life.
‘It’s like living with Neanderthal Man,’ huffed Lucy, and stood up. Giving his leg a good-natured smack with a rolled-up newspaper, she headed off to the kitchen.
I made up my mind to try and have a conversation with this creature.
After all, he was human.
‘Hey, Matt, I see there’s a photo of your mother.’
‘Yeah?’ He yawned, flicking through the channels.
‘This one, here.’
Flick, flick.
‘Looks like you.’
He didn’t bother to break eye contact with the screen. ‘ Her ? Fuck off. My arse she does. Fucking nothing like me.’
I gave up. I really didn’t need to get to know him. Perhaps he wasn’t human at all. Instead, I settled back and stared at the screen too. I’m a bit of a channel flicker myself; I can watch four at once, no problem. Used to drive Anna spare.
Suddenly, on a sports network, I spotted the Big Match. I’d completely forgotten it was on. The All Blacks were playing South Africa that very night, and the first half was almost over. Hell, how could I have forgotten the Big Match?
‘Stop there, mate,’ I said. ‘I really want to watch this.’
And he actually did. In the next hour or so we were almost companionable, in a monosyllabic kind of a way. I spent quite a lot of the time dancing around about an inch in front of the screen, screaming,‘ Go , man! Go, go! Yes!’ while Matt craned his head around me and yelled, ‘Lousy pass, you fuckin’ cretin!’ Lucy and Perry came in from time to time and watched too, and mouth-watering cooking smells floated in from the kitchen.
The Springboks played elegantly but not well enough, and they lost just in time for dinner. And it was then, as we sat around Perry’s kitchen table, that my day really got weird.
Chapter Four
By the time they came to eat, David had wordlessly confiscated the gin bottle from his father. Christopher, however, had already downed enough to blind a newt. He’d slid into the bluff, old-sea-dog phase of his descent into drunkenness. As they crossed the hall he was holding forth to Elizabeth, in clipped, military tones, about the dangers of rounding the Horn in a gale.
Leila listened to his bluster with half-hearted sympathy. Retirement had been a sort of death for Christopher. He was rusting away like a derelict ship, beached and abandoned, lying on its shattered keel and dreaming of the glory days.
David swiftly surveyed the table. ‘Corkscrew,’ he muttered, and headed off to the kitchen.
Christopher darted into the seat next to Leila’s, while Hilda sank down opposite and began to make conversation with Angus. ‘Do you have a family?’ she asked, arranging herself precisely in her chair.
Angus glanced at his wife. ‘Indeed,’ he replied. ‘I have four. A gaggle of grandkids, too, who come and destroy the rectory every school holidays.’
There was something odd about the exchange. Curious, Leila was replaying it in her mind when Christopher began to whisper, his breath hovering by the glinting hoop of her earring. She edged towards Angus’s comfortable bulk at the far end, but her father-in-law was not to be put off.
‘You know what your lovely name means, don’t you, Leila?’
Leila looked bored. ‘Yes, I do actually, Christopher. You’ve told me several times.’
‘Dark as night. Dark . . . as . . . night .’
Leila leaped to her feet and lifted the lid on the casserole. The man is obscene , she thought incredulously, as she snatched up the ladle. Getting worse, too. I bet he was a southern plantation owner in another incarnation, harassing
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