Do you have a phone? the woman asked Ronny. Ronny shook his head. He turned to Jim. You should drive him to hospital. Thatd be quicker than an ambulance. His Volvos right outside.
Yes, the woman nodded. Her feet were bare and she wore a light summer dress which was wet and virtually transparent, torn in the skirt and blotched in a couple of places with what looked like mud or lichen.
Jim had no intention of driving Luke to the hospital. He had his own reasons for this which he felt no desire to discuss publicly. Instead he spoke to Ronny: No. You should drive.
I cant, Ronnys face glistened with rain. I mean I would if it was an automatic, but it isnt.
Jim turned to the woman. Could you drive?
No. I dont have a licence. I cant even drive a tractor. She glanced down at herself. Anyway, look at me, what would people think?
Does it matter?
Her eyes were round. She was incredulous. How long have you lived in this community? Of course it matters.
No. I dont have a licence. I cant even drive a tractor. She glanced down at herself. Anyway, look at me, what would people think?
Does it matter?
Her eyes were round. She was incredulous. How long have you lived in this community? Of course it matters.
Ronny spoke again, more insistently this time. You should drive him, Jim. I wouldnt even know the route.
Luke grunted from the sofa. His lips were moving. Whats he saying? Ronny squatted down next to him and grabbed hold of his wrist. After a great deal of effort Luke raised his head and managed to utter two complete words: Recoveryposition.
Ronny looked up, scowling. Recovery position?
Jim was flummoxed. I dont know any first aid. Would that involve lying him on his side or something?
He looked to Sara who shrugged helplessly. Ronny turned to Luke again. What is the recovery position, Luke?
Luke waved his hands, weakly, like he was conducting a small rodent orchestra. He clearly had no idea.
Ronny smiled, tickled by something. What we should all bear in mind, he said gently, Luke especially, is that dying is not such an extraordinary thing. In fact, he addressed himself directly to Luke, its actually very ordinary.
Luke did not react well to this information. He found his voice, somewhere way deep down inside of him, although its note was as weedy as a reed pipe. It isbad, he panted, you stupid fuck.
Turn him on his side, Jim spoke to Sara, who was beginning to look frantic, his left side, and while youre doing that well go next door and find the car keys.
Sara did just as hed asked. She was well accustomed to responding without a murmur to curt instructions. Jim walked into the rain and Ronny followed. Will you drive him after all?
Jim didnt answer. Instead he pushed Lukes prefab door open and began scouting around.
You seem very calm, Ronny said.
Jim shifted some papers and photos on Lukes table. A strange montage of pictures of a woman inserting the bulb end of a flowering hyacinth into her vagina occupied his attention for a second. They were so irrelevant, so inappropriate that he almost laughed out loud when he saw them, but instead of laughing he pushed them aside, roughly. Several fell to the floor. Ronny picked them up and inspected them.
I really hope Luke cleared the mud off the bulb end, he said, before he set about taking these.
Jim found the keys in a cup on the table. He took a deep breath. Ive got the keys, Ronny, he spoke quietly, but Id rather not drive him to the hospital.
Why not? Ronny put down the photos.
They might recognize me there.
How come?
I stole some drugs a while ago. I dont feel happy about going back.
Ronny was surprised. You stole drugs?
I needed them. I had a prescription but it was difficult to renew it. Ill be in trouble if I go back.
I dont think theyd recognize you, Ronny said quickly, not in an emergency.
They would. This is a small community, and Im hardly inconspicuous.
Ronny looked miserable. Its just that I already had to use my right arm earlier to carry Luke into the prefab and I felt strange after, kind of sick and fluttery inside. It felt all wrong.
Jim struggled to sympathize. He struggled. Just this once, Ronny. He may be dying.
Ronny gnawed at his thumbnail. But what about her? Why cant she do it?
She said she cant drive.
I dont believe her. Everyone can drive.
Jim frowned. If we end up having a huge row over it shell get suspicious.
Why should she?
Jims face was blank.
Suspicious about what? Ronny persisted.
Im asking you, Jim said, his voice so hollow and urgent it was really quite eerie, please. Please.
Ronny scowled, snatched up the keys and walked out into the rain.
Eighteen
The longer it took for Sara to arrive home, the more enraged Lily became. Where was she anyway? She hadnt told her she was going out. Eventually it grew dark. Lily was freezing. She was still undressed. The pink hand towel was cold and damp. Her legs and midriff felt all itchy and stiff. Her toe throbbed. She shifted. Her arms were indented with the pattern of the woodchip wallpaper. Her bottom was pocked with several small dustballs and hair-clusters which the Hoover hadnt quite reached, but her soft skin had reached them.
She was sitting, knees up, huddled, in a corner of the landing. After the incidentThe Incident. After The Incident shed cowered there, more for effect than for anything. What was the point, after all, in making a scene if there was no one present to witness it? She hadnt minded the initial twenty minutes. It had all been quite exciting. But shed been waiting for almost two hours now, and she was bored and furious. In fact shed almost forgotten why it was that she had snuck down there in the first place.
The only thing that kept her crouched and resentfully timorous in her corner, was the galling apprehension that if she moved all her suffering would be for nothing. And Sara had to be punished. For not being there. For not understanding her secrets. For being old and clumsy and separate. Yes.
Finally she heard a key in the lock. Voices. She listened, holding her breath. Two voices, one of them male. She jumped up and ran to her bedroom a startled hare threw on a precautionary dressing-gown, then came on out boxing. They were in the hallway.
Ive been going out of my mind! she expostulated, making a grand entrance at the top of the stairs, limping extraordinarily. And something terrible bit my toe. Where were you?
She stopped in her tracks. On the first stair, close to the wall, lay a sharp blade with blood at its tip. She bent down, grabbed it, and held it behind her back. At the foot of the stairs stood Sara and Ronny. Sara looked washed out. She was torn and wrecked. Look, she said hoarsely, ignoring Lilys protestations, this is Ronny. He needs to get back to one of the prefabs on the beach. Will you take him? I know its dark but you could push your bike there and then ride it back again.
This was all utterly unforeseen. Lily was thrown off-kilter. You mean right now?
Yes. He doesnt know the way.
She was disgruntled. And she was about to complain, to heehaw, to dig in her hooves like a mule, when she noticed that her mother was holding something. What is that? she asked nervously. Sara looked down. A towel. It was in the driveway. It mustve blown off the line.
Oh.
Lily stared at the brown towel.
So will you take him?
But Lily wasnt listening. She was staring at the wall and at the banisters.
Whats wrong? Saras eyes followed the route Lilys had just taken. She stepped forward, squinting. What is that? Whats been happening here?
Lily recoiled. I dont know.
Sara climbed a couple of the stairs. My God, she stepped back again, thats revolting.
The wall was smeared with blood. A thick blood. Liverish. It was a reddish brown colour and almost dry. The banisters were spotted with it, the skirting boards. It was everywhere.
What is this? What have you done?
Me? Lily was aggrieved and righteous. I havent done anything.
But Sara was distracted, suddenly. She was looking down at her own two hands which were red, and the front of her dress, also red. She dropped the towel. I thought it was wet from a puddle, not she mumbled, stunned.
Ronny remained stock still at the foot of the stairs. He had said nothing, hitherto, but he was rubbing his stomach. He looked queasy.
Oh Christ! Lily yelled, seeing his expression, her girlish dignity suddenly in tatters. All this mess! Its so embarrassing. Why the hell did you have to bring him here?
Uh Ronny interjected, I felt sick anyway. It has nothing at all to do with your wallpaper.
Sara gingerly lifted the bloody towel by its corners. She held it up. Several downy feathers adhered to its sticky, damp fabric. Lily took a cautious step backwards.
Its absolutely soaking, Sara said softly, heavy Do you have any idea how this could have happened?
Lily scowled. No.
Youve not been bleeding or anything?
No!
Lilys eyes were stony with mortification.
Not evenyou know?
Oh, my God, I hate you! Lily yelled, sprinting off towards the sanctuary of her bedroom. You just want everyone to think Im some kind of crazy witch or a pervert or a stupid weirdo!
The door slammed. Ronny sat down on the bottom stair. Sara pushed past him. Id better wash my hands and put this in to soak.
Lily tossed the knife into a drawer and then listened, furtively. Their voices were muffled but audible. And while she listened she pressed her hands to her cheeks to feel how hot they were and then tried to cool them first with her fists, then with the back of a plastic hairbrush, and finally with the cool innards of her A Level Business Studies text book. She was a skinny statuette. She was Tome-Head.
Im really sorry about this, Sara said, its just so strange. If you wait in the sitting room until Lilys calmed down, Ill quickly try and clear up the worst of it.
Im fine here, Ronny said, watching her disappear into the kitchen, remaining seated, picking off a couple of feathers from his cardigans sleeve and then raising his voice over the sound of water running. It smells kind of like iron, dont you think? The blood? Like metal.
Yes. Saras voice was distant and then close again. Id hate you to think we made a habit of doing this kind of thing.