let the compliment seep in. “So possibly you have sent out signals to them that they haven’t got a hope, but that won’t stop most blokes from trying – it wouldn’t stop me from trying if I didn’t have you already – and it won’t stop them.”
“So I guess that all you’ve got to do is to trust me.”
“It is. That’s right, it’s all I have to do, and I do. Of course I do. But what you’ve got to realize is that I am so exposedwith you: I love you so much and I’m so vulnerable that you’ve got to make allowances for a little bit of occasional lunacy. Because I am lunatic about you. Fucking potty about you, and so I am deranged. I just am and that’s that. You are going to have to try to find a way to get used to it.”
You know that moment when things have been headed in either one direction or the other, either towards thermonuclear or back from the brink, and you see a turning point and realize it’s all going to be OK? That’s what it was like. As I spoke these words I could see the tension draining from Harriet’s face and almost feel the temperature dropping in the room. Her expression morphed before my eyes from one of tempestuous and righteous indignation to what I choose to believe was a wave of love. She came towards me and took my right hand in hers. “So what’s the bottom line on this musical group then?”
“What do you mean, what’s the bottom line? You’re doing it, obviously, and I had better get used to the idea.”
“No, I’m not. Not if you don’t want me to.”
And just like that, she had turned the tables on me and I was the one who was cornered. As if there was any way I could stop her now – but I had achieved most of what I wanted.
“So you’re saying that if I don’t want you to do it, you won’t do it.” I said, unable to resist the temptation.
“Yes that is what I’m saying,” she responded without hesitation. “I have to form a quartet for my course, but if you are unhappy about me hooking up with Jed and Martin, then I’lltry to find some other women and get together with them. I’m sure it will be possible.”
“OK, so I’d have to be some kind of an arse to insist on that, but thank you for offering it. I appreciate that. I really do. But no, you go ahead… and I’ll just get used to the idea of these guys drooling over you.”
“That’s right. You can think of them getting to drool over me, while you get to take me home every night and make love to me. If you can get your head around it, that should feel rather good to you.”
“I can see its merits, certainly,” I said. “On which topic…”
We made love, and for that time, she and I were alone in the world. She was me, and I was her, and I would have staked my life that we would never part.
Chapter Six
For all this time, still there was Roger. Roger Roger Roger. Still living at home with my parents, of course, but now attending full-time at an adult centre of some sort and staying home at evenings and weekends. I don’t think I ever knew exactly what he did there. All I knew was that each day Mum used to walk with him to the end of the road where a mini-bus would stop at 8.30 a.m. and pick him up. Then she would be at the same spot at 6 p.m. that evening to bring him home.
I spent that first summer vacation from Newcastle back at my parents’ house, and a few times I walked with Roger to the bus. The first time I did it, I recall that I walked down the road with Roger but that I hadn’t given much thought to what his day would be like. I remember that the van pulled alongside us at the pavement and I looked through the windows at the other passengers.
Maybe half of the fifteen or so seats in the bus were occupied. A couple of the people in them had Down syndrome – one of them was apparently about fourteen years old and the other maybe twice that age. I remember seeing the younger kid laughing and giggling with apparently untarnished delight when he saw Roger,
“So I guess that all you’ve got to do is to trust me.”
“It is. That’s right, it’s all I have to do, and I do. Of course I do. But what you’ve got to realize is that I am so exposedwith you: I love you so much and I’m so vulnerable that you’ve got to make allowances for a little bit of occasional lunacy. Because I am lunatic about you. Fucking potty about you, and so I am deranged. I just am and that’s that. You are going to have to try to find a way to get used to it.”
You know that moment when things have been headed in either one direction or the other, either towards thermonuclear or back from the brink, and you see a turning point and realize it’s all going to be OK? That’s what it was like. As I spoke these words I could see the tension draining from Harriet’s face and almost feel the temperature dropping in the room. Her expression morphed before my eyes from one of tempestuous and righteous indignation to what I choose to believe was a wave of love. She came towards me and took my right hand in hers. “So what’s the bottom line on this musical group then?”
“What do you mean, what’s the bottom line? You’re doing it, obviously, and I had better get used to the idea.”
“No, I’m not. Not if you don’t want me to.”
And just like that, she had turned the tables on me and I was the one who was cornered. As if there was any way I could stop her now – but I had achieved most of what I wanted.
“So you’re saying that if I don’t want you to do it, you won’t do it.” I said, unable to resist the temptation.
“Yes that is what I’m saying,” she responded without hesitation. “I have to form a quartet for my course, but if you are unhappy about me hooking up with Jed and Martin, then I’lltry to find some other women and get together with them. I’m sure it will be possible.”
“OK, so I’d have to be some kind of an arse to insist on that, but thank you for offering it. I appreciate that. I really do. But no, you go ahead… and I’ll just get used to the idea of these guys drooling over you.”
“That’s right. You can think of them getting to drool over me, while you get to take me home every night and make love to me. If you can get your head around it, that should feel rather good to you.”
“I can see its merits, certainly,” I said. “On which topic…”
We made love, and for that time, she and I were alone in the world. She was me, and I was her, and I would have staked my life that we would never part.
Chapter Six
For all this time, still there was Roger. Roger Roger Roger. Still living at home with my parents, of course, but now attending full-time at an adult centre of some sort and staying home at evenings and weekends. I don’t think I ever knew exactly what he did there. All I knew was that each day Mum used to walk with him to the end of the road where a mini-bus would stop at 8.30 a.m. and pick him up. Then she would be at the same spot at 6 p.m. that evening to bring him home.
I spent that first summer vacation from Newcastle back at my parents’ house, and a few times I walked with Roger to the bus. The first time I did it, I recall that I walked down the road with Roger but that I hadn’t given much thought to what his day would be like. I remember that the van pulled alongside us at the pavement and I looked through the windows at the other passengers.
Maybe half of the fifteen or so seats in the bus were occupied. A couple of the people in them had Down syndrome – one of them was apparently about fourteen years old and the other maybe twice that age. I remember seeing the younger kid laughing and giggling with apparently untarnished delight when he saw Roger,
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