The Other Son (26 page)

“I doubt it,” Matt says. “But I could ask.”

At that moment, Bruno’s mobile starts to vibrate. He leans back in his chair and swipes it from the kitchen counter behind him, glances at the screen, and then slides it across the table towards Matt. “UK number,” he says. “I think it’s for you.”

Puzzled, Matt answers the phone. “Hello? Hello?” he says. Then, addressing Bruno, he adds, “Too late, I think.”

But then a voice comes from the handset. “Is anybody there?”

“Mum?” Matt says. “Is that you?”

“Is that Matthew?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, hello. This is Dot. Do you remember me?”

Matt glances across at Bruno who is watching him questioningly, his second slice of toast suspended in mid air.

“Yes, Dot,” Matt says, more for Bruno’s benefit than for Dot’s. “Of course I remember you. Mum’s friend. She’s staying with you, right?”

“Yes. I can’t talk for long,” Dot says. Her Midlands accent is even thicker than Alice’s. “She’s only nipped out for a minute. I got your number from her phone, sneaky-loyke.”

“OK...”

“I need your help, love,” Dot says. “I’m in a bit of a pickle with your mother.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I love Alice to bits, Matthew. You know that I do. But she’s been here two weeks now, and it just can’t carry on like this much longer.”

“Oh,” Matt says.

“The thing is – and I shouldn’t really tell you this, so not a word, eh? – but the thing is, I’ve got this gentleman friend. Your mother doesn’t know about that, and he doesn’t want me to tell anyone just yet. But with Alice here, I can’t even get to see him. So it’s all getting a bit sticky. Do you see what I mean, love?”

“Yes,” Matt says, struggling not to laugh. Who would have ever imagined Dot with a secret lover? “But what are you thinking? How can I help?”

“I thought you could have a word with Timothy,” Dot says. “I thought maybe you could convince him. He seems to be being ever so difficult.”

“You want him to take Mum in?”

“Yes,” Dot says. “Yes, it’s time her family took up some of the slack.”

“Tim won’t want to get involved,” Matt says. “I can almost guarantee that much.”

“But he
has
to get involved,” Dot says. “Alice needs his help.”

“I spoke to him already, Dot. He told me to... well, to bugger off, basically.”

“Oh,” Dot says. “Can you think of anyone else? Because if someone doesn’t step up to the mark soon, she’ll end up going back to that... Sorry, Matthew. I know he’s your father and everything, but...”

“Sure,” Matt says. “I understand.”

Bruno, opposite, is waving one hand around trying to get Matt’s attention. He’s mouthing something at him too. Matt waves back that he should “cut it”. He’s trying to think, and it’s hard enough without Bruno jumping around. But Bruno continues ever more frantically until finally Matt gives in. “Hold on one second, Dot. I just need to... hang on.”

“What?!”
Matt asks.

“Tell her to come here,” Bruno says. He says this as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Here?”

“Yes. Your mother. Tell her to come visit.”

“You’re crazy,” Matt replies. “And anyway, there’s no room here. We don’t even have a sofa.”

“We could call Virginie,” Bruno says. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. It’s not like she’s using her place. Your mum could feed her cats.”

Matt shakes his head sharply. “Sorry Dot,” he says, resuming the conversation. “That was just... someone distracted me.”

“Why not, though?” Dot asks. She apparently heard every word. “I can’t think of anything that would do her more good than getting away right now. Unless you don’t want to get involved either, that is.”

Tim’s words suddenly ring in Matt’s ears.
What did you ever do for them except be a worry?

“It’s not that,” he says, wondering as he says it if it’s a lie. “It’s just that... I don’t know. I’m really not sure that would work. And Mum never travels anywhere on her own.”

“She does,” Dot says. “She flew back from Spain on her own.”

“Did she?” Matt says, pulling a pained expression. “Look...”

“I’ve got to go,” Dot says. “She’s on her way up. Just have a think, all right love? I’ll... I’ll call you back.”

“So, why not?” Bruno asks, once Matt has hung up.

“Just... don’t...” Matt says, batting the question away with one hand. “You don’t know her. You don’t know my family. So just...
Please.
Let me deal with it, OK?”

JUNE

Matt raises a finger to his lips only to remember that he has no fingernails left to bite.
I need to buy some of that horrible tasting nail-polish
, he thinks, not for the first time.

The arrivals board has been showing Alice’s flight as having landed for over half an hour, but still there is no sign of her. Matt wonders if she could have changed her mind at the last minute. He wonders if that mightn’t be a good thing, after all.

He chews the skin along the side of his thumbnail instead. He chews the inside of his mouth. Yes, he’s nervous. He’s even, he admits now, a little scared. Not of Alice, but of his own inability to remain calm in her presence. She has a tendency to get on his nerves.

Their relationship has never been an easy one, but above all, it has never comprised the kind of intimacy that her coming to stay implies. But after weeks of poking and prodding, by Dot over in England, and by Bruno here in France, here she is, pushing through the turnstile, struggling with her suitcase.

She looks older than when he last saw her. That’s the first thing that Matt notices. She has aged ten years in less than three.

He raises one arm and waves, then strides across the hall to greet her. “Mum!” he says. “You made it!”

“Ah, Matthew,” Alice says, her features relaxing slightly. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here!”

“I was scared you’d change your mind,” Alice jokes.

Matt and Alice embrace awkwardly, and then Matt takes control of her crazed, veering suitcase. “Do you want a drink or the loo or anything?” he asks. “We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

“No thanks,” Alice says. “I had a horrible sandwich and a cup of tea on the plane. Seven pounds twenty, it came to. Can you imagine that? Seven pounds twenty, for a cuppa and a cheese sandwich.”

“It’s how they keep the prices of the flights so cheap, I suppose.”

“Only it wasn’t cheap,” Alice says. “It wasn’t cheap at all.”

Matt starts to walk a little faster towards the exit. Alice follows on. He leads the way out across the car park.

“Gosh, it’s hot!” Alice says, looking at the tarmac shimmering in the sunshine.

“It’s the south of France. Anyway, you love the heat,” Matt reminds her.

“What a strange little airport,” Alice replies, glancing around.

“It’s just the low cost terminal,” Matt says. “The main airport’s back that way.”

“Like I said,” Alice says, tripping along beside him. “It wasn’t low cost at all.

“You know, most of the other people on that flight had picnics with them? Which, once you know what the food is like and how much it costs, makes sense, I suppose. I just wish
I’d
known in advance. The woman beside me – she had her daughter with her, a fat little girl – she had sandwiches and drinks and chocolate bars and crisps... She just kept pulling stuff from her bag. It was like a magician’s bag, you know? Bottomless. In the end there was so much stuff on her little table that she had to use mine. It looked like – do you remember when you used to play tuck shops? – well, it looked like that.
She
was a bit overweight, too. I felt like saying, maybe you should cut out the crisps and the chocolate, love. She kept elbowing me as she ate. I almost said something. But in the end there’s just no point with people like that, is there?”

Matt weaves his way between two cars and glances sideways at Alice. He thinks,
Oh! This isn’t going to work after all.
How could I forget?
“This is it,” he says, pausing behind the C1 and fumbling in his pocket for the keys.

“
This
one?” Alice says. “My, it’s
tiny
! Is it safe?”

“It’s no smaller than your Micra. And yes, Mum, it’s safe. It had its control technique thingy – its MOT, that’s it – just two weeks ago.”

“I hope it’s got air conditioning,” Alice says as Matt opens the hatchback and a rush of superheated air hits them. “I’m melting here.”

“It hasn’t, Mum. But it’s much cooler up there. You’ll see.”

“Gosh, what a tiny boot,” Alice says as Matt heaves her case into the car. “It’s a good job I packed lightly.”

“You could have filled the entire back seat, Mum. There’s room for two more cases like this one.”

Alice has moved to the driver’s side, so Matt has to remind her that they’re in France, that the passenger’s side is on the right.

“Oh, of course it is,” Alice says. “Silly me! You’d think I’d never been abroad before.”

“I still forget sometimes, too,” Matt says. “Occasionally, I even drive off on the wrong side of the road.”

“Not today, please,” Alice says. “So is it far?”

“It’s um, just over two hours,” Matt replies once they have negotiated the ticket barrier.

“And Marseille is the
nearest
airport?”

“Yes, Mum!” Matt says, his tone of voice already starting to express irritation despite his best efforts. “This is the nearest airport.”

“I was only checking,” Alice whines. “I was only worrying that I’d made you drive out of your way.”

“I told you to fly here, Mum,” Matt reminds her. “So it’s fine.”

“What a lot of traffic,” she says, as Matt moves into the start-stop queue of cars on the slip road.

“It’s only till we get to the autoroute, Mum. After that, it’ll be fine.”

“You have to pay for those, here, don’t you?”

“The autoroutes? Yes.”

“They cost a fortune in Spain. They cost us more than the petrol.”

“Yes,” Matt says. “Well, they’re pretty expensive here, too.”

Mainly because Alice keeps asking him to slow down, it takes them three hours, not two, to get home. And by the time they reach the cabin, Matt’s nerves are already frayed.

“Really?” Alice says, as they bump up the drive. “You live
here
?”

Matt pulls up outside the front door and turns the ignition off.

Bruno quickly appears to greet them and Matt catches his eye and pulls a face before opening the car door and helping Alice out. “Home sweet home,” Matt says. “And this is Bruno. Bruno, my mother.”

Alice looks confused as she shakes Bruno’s hand. She hadn’t been expecting anyone at Matt’s house. “Bonjour Bruno,” she says, wondering if he’s a neighbour or a gardener, all the while noting how good looking he is.

“Bruno’s Canadian, Mum,” Matt tells her. “You can speak English.”

“Thank God for that,” Alice says. “I speak a few words of Spanish, but my French is non existent. I know ‘baguette’ and ‘bière’ and ‘bonjour’ and I think that’s about it. I don’t think I got past the letter B.”

“Those are very useful words,” Bruno says. “With those three you need never go hungry. Or thirsty.”

“Do you need anything from your bag, Mum?” Matt asks. “Or can we just leave it in the car?”

Alice is looking confused so Matt reminds her, “You’re in a house down the road, remember? There’s only one bedroom here. And no sofa-bed, either. I explained it to you on the phone.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Alice says. In fact she has no recollection of this conversation, but her mind has, admittedly, been rather occupied recently.

“You get to share the house with Virginie’s five cats,” Bruno says enthusiastically. “They’re awesome.”

“I’m not that keen on cats,” Alice replies in a tone that implies she’s sharing a confidence with him.

Bruno laughs. “You might have to work on that one,” he says.

Once Alice is seated at the garden table, Matt joins Bruno in the kitchen.

“This is never going to work,” Matt says distraughtly as he closes the door behind him.

Bruno, standing over the kettle, looks up. “Already?” he says.

“Yes, already. I don’t know about saving her from Dad. I’m starting to want to kill her myself.”

Bruno pulls a face.

“Joke, babe,” Matt says.

Bruno pours the water into the mugs and adds teabags. “Yeah, well don’t. Not about that. It’s not...”

“Graceful?”

“Exactly. It’s not graceful at all. How does she take her tea?”

“White,” Matt says. “No sugar.”

Bruno crosses to the refrigerator. “I should have said to get more milk,” he says. “We’re almost out.”

“I’ll steal some long-life stuff from Virginie’s place. If we get that far.”

“You need to calm down,” Bruno tells him gently. “You’re getting yourself all worked up where there’s no need.”

“No
need
?” Matt says a little too loudly. He glances guiltily at the door. “No need?” he repeats softly. “I’ve just spent three hours in the car with her. And believe me, you’ve no idea.
Ooh Matthew,
” he says in a comedy Birmingham accent,
“do slow down a bit, it’s not a racetrack.”

“You do drive fast,” Bruno says.

“Where on earth do you get your shopping? It’s so remote!”

“She has a point,” Bruno says. “Like I said, we’re almost out of milk.”

“What happens if you need a doctor?”

Bruno shrugs. “Old folks worry about stuff like that.”

Matt snorts.
“I hope there’s no more bends,”
he continues.
“This road’s making me feel quite carsick, Matthew.”

Bruno smiles tightly and shrugs.

“Oh, and best of all,” Matt says, waving one finger at him, “
Who on earth would choose to live out here?
I mean, can you believe that? I’m in the process of driving her to our house, and she asks who the hell would want to live here?”

“Maybe she’s nervous,” Bruno says, generously. “People can be difficult when they’re nervous.”

“Maybe she’s a
nightmare,”
Matt says, comically wiggling his fingers either side of his face, monster-style.

Bruno laughs, then sighs deeply and returns his attention to the drinks.

“Yep,” Matt says. “I know. Not graceful.”

Alice fidgets in her plastic garden chair and looks around at the garden. Up the hill, to the right, is the beginning of a dense pine forest. In front of her, a large sweep of scrubby lawn leads to five fruit trees, she’s not sure which kind. And to the left, a series of terraced levels lead down to the distant main road. Most of these have been cultivated as vegetable plots, it would appear, though Alice can’t imagine by whom. Certainly Matt never showed the slightest interest in gardening.

She turns her head and glances back at the cabin, but the door is shut, the shutters still closed. There’s nothing to be seen.

She’s having trouble feeling present right now – she’s struggling to convince herself that this is reality rather than a dream or the edgy lead-in to a nightmare, the phase when everything feels wrong, just before the spooks appear. Though her surroundings are what people traditionally describe as “beautiful”, she has never been a great one for isolation, remote locations have always made her feel edgy. And beyond this, something really does feel wrong. In fact everything feels wrong. The feeling is hard to put words to, but none of this looks like a logical version of reality to her.

She’s been feeling peculiar for weeks, has been floating around in an almost dreamlike state ever since she walked out of number twenty-three. Because how, her brain keeps asking, can she really be doing what she’s doing? And she finds herself unable to reply.

Every morning she has opened her eyes and had to blink twice before accepting the reality of Dot’s luminous lounge, of her suitcase in the corner, of Dot, herself, bustling around behind her brewing coffee. But this, being here, today, is even stranger.

Firstly, of course, she’s in France. Everything
is
foreign.
Everything
is
strange.

And she’s staying with Matt! She can’t remember having had a proper conversation with Matt since he was about ten. Should she feel guilty about that? Probably. Then again, so, perhaps, should he.

Add, then, to the fact that she’s staying with Matt in France, the fact that Matt is living, of all places, in a remote wooden cabin in the Alps for God’s sake, and you have all the ingredients of a dream sequence. It feels a little like one of the strange scenes from that
Twin Peaks
TV series Matt and Tim were so addicted to.

She scans the edges of the garden, but instead of one armed men, or midgets in red suits, she sees Bruno walking towards her with a puppy on a lead. “So, Alice,” Bruno says. “It’s time for you to meet Jarvis.”

“Oh, hello!” Alice says, leaning down to caress the excitable puppy. “My, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?”

“He’s ten weeks old,” Bruno says. “He was Matt’s birthday gift.”

“Oh that was nice of him,” Alice says.

“Oh no,” Bruno explains. “
We
got the dog for
Matt
.”

A dog! Alice’s mind is suddenly swamped with memories – terrible memories. She pales. “And his birthday,” she says. “I forgot it!”

“I guess you had a lot on,” Bruno says. “Don’t worry. Matt’s OK with that.”

“But all the same.”

“You’re here now. That’s the main thing.”

Alice looks up at Bruno and he smiles at her and she feels a little better. She manages to push the ghosts from her mind. She notes again how tall he is, how attractive. With his dark brown eyes and his neatly trimmed beard, his long upper body and his muscular arms, and that constant friendly smile above all, he really is quite extraordinary. But who is he? That’s what Alice can’t work out

“So, how do you know Matt?” she asks.

“We met travelling,” Bruno says. “In a backpackers’ in Thailand. It was horrific really. Matt and I fought the roaches together. The roaches won.”

Alice nods and frowns. Because though this reply answers everything, it also explains nothing. An idea is forming on the edges of her consciousness, like a child jumping up and down trying to be noticed in the crowd. But Alice rejects it out of hand. Yes, Matt has always been a little “other” to her. And yes, he has always been intensely private, secretive, even. But surely he wouldn’t invite her out here without telling her
that
would he?

“Do you live nearby?” Alice asks, smiling neutrally to disguise her confusion.