Chris Cleave Ebook Boxed Set (42 page)

Our boy had his own room it was cracking we were proud of it. My husband built his bed in the shape of Bob the Builder’s dump truck and I sewed the curtains and we did the painting together. In the night my boy’s room smelled of boy. Boy is a good smell it is a cross between angels and tigers. My boy slept on his side sucking Mr. Rabbit’s paws. I sewed Mr. Rabbit myself he was purple with green ears. He went everywhere my boy went. Or else there was trouble. My boy was so peaceful it was lovely to watch him sleep so still with his lovely ginger hair glowing from the sunrise outside his curtains. The curtains made the light all pink. They slept very quiet in the pink light the 2 of them him and Mr. Rabbit. Sometimes my boy was so still I had to check he was breathing. I would put my face close to his face and blow a little bit on his cheek. He would snuffle
and frown and fidget for a while then go all soft and still again. I would smile and tiptoe backwards out of his room and close his door very quiet.

Mr. Rabbit survived. I still have him. His green ears are black with blood and one of his paws is missing.

Now I’ve told you where my boy came from Osama I suppose I ought to tell you a bit more about his mum before you get the idea I was some sort of saint who just sewed fluffy toys and waited up for her husband. I wish I was a saint because it was what my boy deserved but it wasn’t what he got. I wasn’t a perfect wife and mum in fact I wasn’t even an average one I was what the
Sun
would call a
DIRTY LOVE CHEAT
.

My husband and my boy never found out oh thank you god. But I can say it now they’re both dead and I don’t care who reads it. It can’t hurt them any more. I loved my boy and I loved my husband but sometimes I saw other men too. Or rather they saw me and I didn’t make much of an effort to put them off and one thing sometimes led to another. You know what men are like Osama you trained thousands of them yourself they are
RAVENOUS LOVE RATS
.

Sex is not a beautiful and perfect thing for me Osama it is a condition caused by nerves. Ever since I was a young girl I get so anxious. It only needs a little thing to get me started. Your Twin Towers attack or just 2 blokes arguing over a cab fare it’s all the same. All the violence in the world is connected it’s just like the sea. When I see a woman shouting at her kid in Asda car park I see bulldozers flattening refugee camps. I see those little African boys with scars across the tops of their skulls like headphones. I see all the lost tempers of the world I see HELL ON EARTH. It’s all the same it all makes me twitchy.

And when I get nervous about all the horrible things in the world I just need something very soft and secret and warm to make me forget it for a bit. I didn’t even know what it was till I was 14. It was one of my mum’s boyfriends who showed me but I won’t write his
name or he’ll get in trouble. I suppose he was a
SICK CHILD PREDATOR
but I still remember how lovely it felt. Afterwards he took me for a drive through town and I just smiled and looked out at all the hard faces and the homeless drifting past the car windows and they didn’t bother me for the moment. I was just smiling and thinking nothing much.

Ever since then whenever I get nervous I’ll go with anyone so long as they’re gentle. I’m not proud I know it’s not an excuse and I’ve tried so hard to change but I can’t. It’s deep under my skin like a tat they can never quite remove oh sometimes I feel so tired.

I’ll tell you about one night in particular Osama. You’ll see it isn’t true I always used to wait up for my husband. One night last spring he got called out on a job and while I was waiting up for him the telly made me very anxious. It was one of those politics talk shows and everyone was trying to talk at once. It was like they were on a sinking ship fighting over the last life jacket and I couldn’t stand it. I ran into the kitchen and started tidying to take my mind off things only the problem was it was already tidy. The trouble is when I get nervous I always tidy and I get nervous a lot and there’s only so much tidying a small flat can take. I looked around the kitchen I was hopping from foot to foot I was getting desperate. The oven was clean the chip pan was sparkling and all the tins in the cupboards were in alphabetical order with their labels facing outwards. Apple slices Baked beans Custard and so on it was a real problem it was effing perfect I didn’t know what to do with myself so I started biting my nails. I can bite till my fingers bleed when I get like that but very luckily just then I had a flash of genius I realized I never had alphabetised the freezer had I? I’m good like that Osama sometimes things just come to me. So I opened up the freezer and dumped out all the food onto the floor and put it back in its right order from top to bottom. AlphaBites Burgers Chips Drumsticks Eclairs Fish Fingers I could go on but the point is all the time I was doing this I was very happy and I never once imagined my husband cutting the wrong wire on a homemade nail bomb and being blown into chunks
about the size of your thumb. The trouble was as soon as all the packets were back in the freezer that’s exactly what I started seeing. So then I did what anyone would do in my situation Osama I went down the pub.

Actually that isn’t quite true. What I did first was open up the freezer again and take out the bag of AlphaBites and open them and put all the AlphaBites into alphabetical order and put them back into the freezer and
then
I went down the pub. There was nothing else for it I just had to get out of that flat and close the door behind me.

I know they say you should never leave a child alone in the home but there you go. The people who say that I wonder what they would do if it was them left all alone and it was their husbands making a bomb safe and all their laundry was done already and all their AlphaBites were in perfect order. I think they might of popped out to the pub like I did. Just to see a few friendly faces. Just to drink a little something to take the edge off. So off I toddled down the road to the Nelson’s Head and I got a G&T and I took it to the corner table nearest the telly projector and I sat there watching Sky like you do. They were showing all the season’s greatest goals which was fine by me. I know you’d rather watch blindfolded lads having their heads hacked off with knives Osama well that’s the main difference between you and me I suppose we have different opinions about telly. If you’d ever spent an evening in front of the box with me and my husband there’d of been a lot of squabbling over the remote control. Anyway my point is I was happy minding my own and I sat there all alone good as gold and the old granddads sat at the bar talking about the footie and everyone let me be.

Now I may be weak Osama but I am not a slut. I never asked for Jasper Black to sit down at my table and interrupt me gawping at action replays. I never came on to Jasper Black he came on to me there’s a difference.

You could tell straight away Jasper Black had no business being in the East End. He was one of those types who fancied a spot of
Easy Access To The City Of London And Within A Stone’s Throw Of The Prestigious Columbia Road Flower Market. The
Sun
calls them
SNEERING TOFFS
. Usually they live about 3 years in Bethnal Green or Shoreditch then move to the suburbs to be with their own kind. I watched a documentary once about salmon swimming up rivers to spawn and that’s what they’re like those people. You turn around one day and they’ve upped sticks and gone and all you’re left with is this fading smell of Boss by Hugo Boss on your nice T-shirt and a Starbucks where the pie shop used to be.

Including him there were 3
SNEERING TOFFS
on Jasper Black’s table it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to spot them. I was looking at Sky trying not to catch their eye but I could feel them looking up from their pints and giving each other these little secret grins on account of I was a bit of local colour. Like it was okay I was wearing a Nike T-shirt and trackie bottoms but they’d of preferred it if I’d been dressed as a Pearly Queen or maybe the little match girl from
Oliver! The Musical
. If they’d been just a bit more pissed they’d probably of taken a photo of me on their mobiles for those web sites I told you about. They thought they were very clever. My whole point is they weren’t very nice and you could of blown up as many of them as you liked Osama you wouldn’t of heard any of us complaining.

Anyway Jasper Black left his table and came over to mine and it was quite a surprise. Normally I’d of told him where to shove it but I couldn’t help noticing he had nice eyes for a
SNEERING TOFF
. I mean most of them have dead eyes like they’ve been done over with electric shocks like Jack Nicholson in
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
. Or some of them have these little excited eyes like they’ve got a chinchilla up their bum like Hugh Grant in. Well. All his films. But Jasper Black wasn’t like that. He had nice eyes. He looked almost human. I looked back at the slow-motion goals on Sky. I knew it was dangerous to look at Jasper Black at least give me that much credit.

—Football fan are you? said Jasper Black.

—What do you think?

—I think you’re beautiful, said Jasper Black. So do my friends. They bet me 20 quid I couldn’t get your name. So tell me your name and I’ll split the cash with you and never bother you again.

He was smiling. I wasn’t.

—20 quid?

—Yes, he said. 20 English pounds.

—Listen carefully. I’ll say this slowly. Your friends are WANKERS.

Jasper Black didn’t even blink.

—So help me take them for the money, he said. We’ll go halves. 10 quid each. What do you say?

—I don’t need 10 quid.

Jasper Black stopped smiling.

—No, he said. Neither do I really. Well maybe I can just talk with you?

—I’m married. I’m waiting for my husband.

I picked up my G&T and I made sure he got an eyeful of my wedding band. My wedding band is not silver actually Osama it’s platinum it’s a cracker. My husband chose it himself and it cost him a month’s wages. There are some things you just can’t skimp on he always used to say. I still wear it today on a little silver chain around my neck. It’s as wide as runway number 1 at Heathrow Airport and it flashes like the sun but apparently Jasper Black couldn’t see it at all.

—Are you here all on your own? he said.

—No. Well yes I suppose I am. Like I say I’m waiting for my husband he’s a copper he’s a rock he’s never let me down we’ve been married 4 years 7 months we have a boy he is 4 years 3 months old he still sleeps with his rabbit the rabbit is called Mr. Rabbit.

—Are you okay? said Jasper Black. It’s just that you seem a little overwrought.

—Overwhat?

—Overexcited.

—Oh really what makes you say that?

—Well, said Jasper Black. I only asked you if you were here alone and now I know everything about you with the possible exception of your mother’s maiden name.

—Knowles.

—Excuse me? said Jasper Black.

—Knowles was my mother’s maiden name. In fact it always was her name she never was married to my father.

—Oh, he said.

—I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I’m never normally like this. Spilling my guts to strangers down the pub.

—Please don’t apologise. Talk if you feel like talking. Get it all off your chest. I’m a good listener.

—Are you sure? You seem very kind you have a kind face my husband is in bomb disposal.

—Whoa there, said Jasper Black. Whoa whoa whoa. Just one cotton-picking minute. I’m going to go to the bar and get us both another drink and you’re going to take a deep breath and count backwards from ten and when I get back from the bar you’re going to start at the beginning and tell me all about it.

—Okay.

—Alright, he said. What are you drinking?

—G&T please.

—G&T it is, he said.

—Last orders, said the landlord.

So Jasper Black went up to the bar and his 2
SNEERING TOFF
mates got up from their table and went in to the gents for a wee and I got up and locked them in there on account of they’d been gawping at me and Jasper Black and making blow-job faces at us ever since he sat down with me. It couldn’t of been easier. There was a padlock on the outside of the door to the gents and I just clicked it shut through the metal ring that was there and went back to my table nearest the telly projector and sat down good as gold. The landlord and the old granddads up at the bar saw the whole thing and they were all nudging each other and smiling at me which would of been nice except that
their teeth were a right state so it was a bit like a horror film actually like
Night of the Smirking Cardigan Granddads
. When Jasper Black turned back from the bar with our drinks he looked around for his mates and made a question mark face at me with his eyebrows.

—What happened to the blokes I was with? he said.

—They disappeared up their own arses. You should of seen it. It was amazing.

Jasper Black looked at me and frowned. Then he shrugged and sat down. We just drank our drinks for a little bit then. We didn’t look at each other we looked at each other’s drinks like they were effing fascinating. The way 2 people only do if they’ve known each other less than 25 minutes or more than 25 years. So I stared at Jasper Black’s lager and Jasper Black stared at my G&T and after a while this loud banging started coming from the gents now his mates had found out they’d been locked in there. It got louder and louder. You might of thought the landlord would of let them out but he didn’t because we do things a bit different in the East End. There are mysteries in this patch between Bethnal Green and Haggerston Osama that would of had your prophets scratching their heads I should think.

Jasper Black nodded his head at the door of the gents where all the banging was coming from.

—That’s them is it? he said.

—They started it.

Jasper Black frowned again and then he started laughing.

—Good girl, he said.

—Yes I am a good girl as a matter of fact so don’t think you can try anything fancy.