tedious. What did he want to do that for?
‘Mum and Dad came round the other day,’ Peter carried on. ‘We talked. They… seemed to think I need to get out more.’
Ah well, that explained it. She wondered what that old cow had said to Peter. Having that dry old witch for a mother-in-law was going to be one of the few downsides to being married to Peter. Of course, Peter always thought the best of his mum. It was probably a mother-son thing. She thought, fleetingly, about her own waste-of-space mother. Mothers and daughters saw each other more clearly.
‘Sally,’ said Peter suddenly. ‘Do you think I’m selfish?’
What? Where the buggering hell had that come from? His mother, probably. That woman knew no shame. The fact that Sally couldn’t actually communicate with Peter wasn’t good enough for her. Noooo. She had to make him feel bad about coming to visit too. Bitch.
Sally wanted to say ‘No! I don’t think you’re selfish. I think you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met. You come here every day. You talk to me, not even knowing if I can hear you.’ She wanted to hold his hand, feel his skin against her palms and look into his face and say ‘I think you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met’, or some other platitude to make him feel better. But of course, she couldn’t. She had no hands to hold him with. No eyes to see him with. No voice to tell him. For the first time since waking up in the tranquillity, she was annoyed. She hadn’t wanted out before. Now she did. And it made her angry.
‘Val had a baby six months ago. I meant to go and see her, I honestly did. But stuff got in the way and I kept putting it off.’ Peter sounded miserable now. ‘Then I forgot. Now the baby is six months old and Val thinks I don’t care. Worse still, Alex and little Terry think I don’t care. That makes me the worst uncle ever.’
Wait, Val had another baby? Sally thought back to her wedding. There had been no bump on Val. Sally had only met Val a couple of times, but she was sure that Val was the sort of odious yummy mummy that would tell everyone about how wonderfully fertile she was. Definitely. She hadn’t mentioned anything at the wedding, so maybe she was still only in the early stages then … and the baby was six months old. So … the wedding had been at least ten months ago, if not longer. Bloody hell. How long had she been in this place for then?
Chapter Five
Peter almost chickened out before he entered the third floor common room. The furniture had been removed, leaving an enormous space. There were people everywhere, sanding skirting boards and painting walls. That jovial man that seemed to bounce around everywhere putting up posters spotted him hovering by the door and bounced up to him.
‘Hello, I’m Harry,’ he said, offering Peter a chubby hand to shake. ‘Are you coming to join us?’
‘I am.’ There, he was committed now. ‘I’m Peter Wesley. Someone said you needed volunteers …’
‘Brilliant. Come on in and we’ll find you something to do.’ Harry led him to the other side of the room. A few people looked up from their work to smile or nod at him. Mostly the conversations didn’t cease. There was a smattering of laughter from a group who were busy stripping wallpaper from the far wall.
Grace waved to him from across the room. She was wearing a paint spattered shirt meant for someone much wider than her and a pair of worn jeans. Her hair was pulled back and the plait tucked into the back of her shirt so that it didn’t get paint on it. The plait pulled the collar of her shirt askew slightly, revealing a glimpse of collarbone. It was the most unflirtatious outfit Peter had ever seen. Yet, the oversized shirt only served to highlight how slim she was underneath it. He tried to imagine Sally wearing anything so unaffected. No, he decided. Sally would never be seen so plain and unadorned. In the few months that he’d lived with her, he hadn’t seen her without
‘Mum and Dad came round the other day,’ Peter carried on. ‘We talked. They… seemed to think I need to get out more.’
Ah well, that explained it. She wondered what that old cow had said to Peter. Having that dry old witch for a mother-in-law was going to be one of the few downsides to being married to Peter. Of course, Peter always thought the best of his mum. It was probably a mother-son thing. She thought, fleetingly, about her own waste-of-space mother. Mothers and daughters saw each other more clearly.
‘Sally,’ said Peter suddenly. ‘Do you think I’m selfish?’
What? Where the buggering hell had that come from? His mother, probably. That woman knew no shame. The fact that Sally couldn’t actually communicate with Peter wasn’t good enough for her. Noooo. She had to make him feel bad about coming to visit too. Bitch.
Sally wanted to say ‘No! I don’t think you’re selfish. I think you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met. You come here every day. You talk to me, not even knowing if I can hear you.’ She wanted to hold his hand, feel his skin against her palms and look into his face and say ‘I think you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met’, or some other platitude to make him feel better. But of course, she couldn’t. She had no hands to hold him with. No eyes to see him with. No voice to tell him. For the first time since waking up in the tranquillity, she was annoyed. She hadn’t wanted out before. Now she did. And it made her angry.
‘Val had a baby six months ago. I meant to go and see her, I honestly did. But stuff got in the way and I kept putting it off.’ Peter sounded miserable now. ‘Then I forgot. Now the baby is six months old and Val thinks I don’t care. Worse still, Alex and little Terry think I don’t care. That makes me the worst uncle ever.’
Wait, Val had another baby? Sally thought back to her wedding. There had been no bump on Val. Sally had only met Val a couple of times, but she was sure that Val was the sort of odious yummy mummy that would tell everyone about how wonderfully fertile she was. Definitely. She hadn’t mentioned anything at the wedding, so maybe she was still only in the early stages then … and the baby was six months old. So … the wedding had been at least ten months ago, if not longer. Bloody hell. How long had she been in this place for then?
Chapter Five
Peter almost chickened out before he entered the third floor common room. The furniture had been removed, leaving an enormous space. There were people everywhere, sanding skirting boards and painting walls. That jovial man that seemed to bounce around everywhere putting up posters spotted him hovering by the door and bounced up to him.
‘Hello, I’m Harry,’ he said, offering Peter a chubby hand to shake. ‘Are you coming to join us?’
‘I am.’ There, he was committed now. ‘I’m Peter Wesley. Someone said you needed volunteers …’
‘Brilliant. Come on in and we’ll find you something to do.’ Harry led him to the other side of the room. A few people looked up from their work to smile or nod at him. Mostly the conversations didn’t cease. There was a smattering of laughter from a group who were busy stripping wallpaper from the far wall.
Grace waved to him from across the room. She was wearing a paint spattered shirt meant for someone much wider than her and a pair of worn jeans. Her hair was pulled back and the plait tucked into the back of her shirt so that it didn’t get paint on it. The plait pulled the collar of her shirt askew slightly, revealing a glimpse of collarbone. It was the most unflirtatious outfit Peter had ever seen. Yet, the oversized shirt only served to highlight how slim she was underneath it. He tried to imagine Sally wearing anything so unaffected. No, he decided. Sally would never be seen so plain and unadorned. In the few months that he’d lived with her, he hadn’t seen her without
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