occurred to Helen to check whether Jez’s stuff was still up in the spare room. She gestured across the sitting room to Barney, who was slumped in front of the TV, to go and
check.
‘What?’ he said, barely taking his eyes off the film he was watching. Helen put her hand over the mouthpiece.
‘Is Jez’s stuff upstairs? Go and see!’ she hissed.
‘Should I get on a train now and come over?’ Maria’s voice had risen to an hysterical pitch.
‘Of course you shouldn’t,’ said Helen. ‘What if he turns up there in the morning? Which he will, I’m sure.’
‘I can’t believe you didn’t realize he was leaving today? Didn’t you help him pack his stuff?’
‘Maria. Jez is nearly sixteen. He doesn’t want his aunt fussing over him the whole time. I asked him to say which train he was getting, but I let him sort himself out.’
There was a long silence.
‘What?’ Helen said. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking that I wish I’d never let him stay with you. Our whole approach to parenting is different. Yours borders on neglect—’
‘Maria! Let’s please remain civil if—’
‘OK. I shouldn’t have said that. I think the current term is benign neglect. But Jez is not used to it. He doesn’t have all that freedom over here. He’s used to a
strict timetable, to being driven around. He doesn’t know how to use the Metro! So the tube will be a labyrinth to him. Oh my God, what’s happened to him, Helen?’
‘There’ll be a simple explanation. What you need right now is a stiff drink and bed.’
‘A stiff drink is your answer to everything.’
There was a charged pause as Helen fought not to take the bait.
Maria continued, ‘I’m phoning Nadim. I’ve no choice. He needs to know his son’s disappeared!’
Helen felt herself prickle with indignation.
‘Jez has been gone one night. That does not mean he’s disappeared. And we are doing all we can over here to find him.’ She hung up and turned to the others. Tears had sprung to
her eyes, fury at the guilt and inadequacy her sister made her feel, mixed with growing anxiety that Jez might actually have come to some harm.
‘She’s always been overprotective with Jez. It’s probably why this ghastly scenario has happened in the first place,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ said Theo. ‘He’ll be OK. He’s not stupid.’
Barney came back into the room and sat down in front of the TV again.
‘Well?’ Helen asked.
‘What?’
‘Jez’s stuff. Is it there?’
‘Oh right, yes. Still there. He hasn’t packed. Clothes all over the floor.’
Helen closed her eyes. Sat down. Put her head in her hands.
‘When does one call the police in cases like this?’ she asked through her fingers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sunday
Sonia
Seb’s mouth organ is in a shoebox of special things I keep in the spare room. I feel nervous as I turn the big glass door handle, it’s so long since I’ve been
in here. We don’t often entertain overnight guests, for one reason or another. It smells musty, of dust and old paper. The grey light comes in through a small window on one side of the house
which is overshadowed by the roofs of the almshouses and the tall dark chimneys of the power station beyond. Much of the furniture has remained under dust sheets since we moved back. There seemed
little point in uncovering the mahogany chest of drawers that we never use, or the ottoman under the window.
The shoebox is on a shelf in the wardrobe. I bring it out with care, lift Seb’s Palestinian scarf, uncover things I haven’t looked at in years.
I’ve come for the mouth organ to soothe Jez. He was agitated and a little befuddled by the after-effects of my mother’s drugs when I went to him this morning, and I needed to calm
him. He thought he had drunk too much again and felt ashamed. He’s far too well brought up to imagine his aunt’s friend might have added anything special to his tea, and this makes me
feel all the more
check.
‘What?’ he said, barely taking his eyes off the film he was watching. Helen put her hand over the mouthpiece.
‘Is Jez’s stuff upstairs? Go and see!’ she hissed.
‘Should I get on a train now and come over?’ Maria’s voice had risen to an hysterical pitch.
‘Of course you shouldn’t,’ said Helen. ‘What if he turns up there in the morning? Which he will, I’m sure.’
‘I can’t believe you didn’t realize he was leaving today? Didn’t you help him pack his stuff?’
‘Maria. Jez is nearly sixteen. He doesn’t want his aunt fussing over him the whole time. I asked him to say which train he was getting, but I let him sort himself out.’
There was a long silence.
‘What?’ Helen said. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking that I wish I’d never let him stay with you. Our whole approach to parenting is different. Yours borders on neglect—’
‘Maria! Let’s please remain civil if—’
‘OK. I shouldn’t have said that. I think the current term is benign neglect. But Jez is not used to it. He doesn’t have all that freedom over here. He’s used to a
strict timetable, to being driven around. He doesn’t know how to use the Metro! So the tube will be a labyrinth to him. Oh my God, what’s happened to him, Helen?’
‘There’ll be a simple explanation. What you need right now is a stiff drink and bed.’
‘A stiff drink is your answer to everything.’
There was a charged pause as Helen fought not to take the bait.
Maria continued, ‘I’m phoning Nadim. I’ve no choice. He needs to know his son’s disappeared!’
Helen felt herself prickle with indignation.
‘Jez has been gone one night. That does not mean he’s disappeared. And we are doing all we can over here to find him.’ She hung up and turned to the others. Tears had sprung to
her eyes, fury at the guilt and inadequacy her sister made her feel, mixed with growing anxiety that Jez might actually have come to some harm.
‘She’s always been overprotective with Jez. It’s probably why this ghastly scenario has happened in the first place,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ said Theo. ‘He’ll be OK. He’s not stupid.’
Barney came back into the room and sat down in front of the TV again.
‘Well?’ Helen asked.
‘What?’
‘Jez’s stuff. Is it there?’
‘Oh right, yes. Still there. He hasn’t packed. Clothes all over the floor.’
Helen closed her eyes. Sat down. Put her head in her hands.
‘When does one call the police in cases like this?’ she asked through her fingers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sunday
Sonia
Seb’s mouth organ is in a shoebox of special things I keep in the spare room. I feel nervous as I turn the big glass door handle, it’s so long since I’ve been
in here. We don’t often entertain overnight guests, for one reason or another. It smells musty, of dust and old paper. The grey light comes in through a small window on one side of the house
which is overshadowed by the roofs of the almshouses and the tall dark chimneys of the power station beyond. Much of the furniture has remained under dust sheets since we moved back. There seemed
little point in uncovering the mahogany chest of drawers that we never use, or the ottoman under the window.
The shoebox is on a shelf in the wardrobe. I bring it out with care, lift Seb’s Palestinian scarf, uncover things I haven’t looked at in years.
I’ve come for the mouth organ to soothe Jez. He was agitated and a little befuddled by the after-effects of my mother’s drugs when I went to him this morning, and I needed to calm
him. He thought he had drunk too much again and felt ashamed. He’s far too well brought up to imagine his aunt’s friend might have added anything special to his tea, and this makes me
feel all the more
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