Great! She laughs, clapping her hands together. He has extensive experience! Well thats wonderful, Gene! Thats just terrific!
Gene struggles to maintain his air of infinite calm.
Im not saying its all right, Sheila, he eventually murmurs, Im just
Then the dratted thing goes and breaks down on them Surprise! Surprise!
She glances up at him, almost vengefully.
They were literally two roads away when it happened. And it didnt break down, it ran out of fuel. I purposely keep the tank
Theres definitely a leak, she snaps, exasperated, Ive been complaining about it for weeks. Theres been diesel seeping out of the damn thing all over the patio
Yes. You did mention the leak, Gene concedes, nodding, but I think its probably brake fluid rather than
So the brakes are dodgy?!
She throws up her hands.
I didnt No. The brakes are fine. Theyre fine. So far as I am aware, the Hummer is in excellent, working order, which is why I made extra sure that there wasnt a sufficient amount of fuel in the tank to
Because you didnt trust him? she interrupts. You suspected he might do something like this, but you didnt feel it was appropriate to confide in me about it? Perhaps you thought I wouldnt be interested in what my fourteen-year-old son is getting up to?
She gazes over at him, wounded.
No. No. It wasnt Stan I was worried about so much as
He makes an expansive gesture with his hand, meant to signify the broader community chiefly its youthful contingent.
That bloody jeep is a magnet for trouble, she growls, un-mollified, I said that from the outset.
You did. Although on a slightly more positive note, if the tank hadnt been
Dont you dare, his wife snaps.
The point is
The point is, she rapidly supersedes him, that I warned you when Marek initially approached us with the idea that the whole thing would end in tears. Mareks schemes invariably do.
And you were right. He shrugs. I accept that. I accepted it at the time. But my hands were tied, Sheila. I just didnt really feel I could refuse him without
Heaven forbid you should upset Marek! his wife harrumphs.
He was desperate. And I knew how much it would mean to Stan
So now, in celebration of that fact, his wife interrupts, as an expression of this enormous gratitude he apparently feels, Stans taking the damn thing out on spontaneous joyrides, stoned out of his tiny, little mind!
Silence.
Well he certainly paid a price for it, Gene eventually avows, if thats any kind of comfort.
It isnt.
He was completely humiliated, Sheila.
She sits down on her stool again, pops the needle back between her lips and grimly unwinds a length of cotton.
And he did at least have the foresight the emotional maturity to ring me, immediately, once the shit started hitting the fan.
Charming turn of phrase! she commends him.
He shrugs.
So that girl I forget her name
Who?
Who?
She delivers him a sharp look.
You mean Jen?
Jen. Thats right. Jen. She said he was being sick everywhere?
She did? Gene grimaces. Well thats a slight exaggeration
She said there was vomit everywhere. It was wall-to-wall, she said.
Gene takes off his watch and his rings, and turns to place them on his bedside table. Thanks, Jen, he mouths.
Gene takes off his watch and his rings, and turns to place them on his bedside table. Thanks, Jen, he mouths.
Perhaps it wasnt just pot they smoked Sheila muses, paranoid. Are you sure they didnt ?
She removes the needle, horrified. I mean it couldve been anything! We plainly have no idea
It was definitely just pot. Gene refuses to be roused. He pulls off his jumper, then starts to unbutton his shirt. A very powerful variety, thats all. Some kind of I dont know skunk
His wife moistens the tip of the length of cotton on her tongue, and then holds it with the needle up to the light. I find it difficult to understand, she ruminates, darkly, half to herself, how a supposedly mature and responsible adult, a public figure, a sportsman of all people
Gene draws a deep, preparatory breath.
For the record, he murmurs, his voice so quiet as to be virtually inaudible, it wasnt actually Ransoms dope.
Sheila continues to try and thread the needle.
It wasnt Ransoms dope, Gene repeats, mechanically, it was Stans dope.
The fine piece of khaki-coloured cotton finally enters the tiny hole. His wife releases the thread and pulls it through.
Pardon? she says, once the thread has been carefully secured and knotted.
Gene doesnt respond. She gazes at him, blankly.
Stans dope? she eventually echoes, her voice wavering, affectingly. Gene nods.
But ?
She springs to her feet and goes over to close the bedroom door (perhaps afraid that Mallory might overhear them, and be instantly corrupted by the news). How? When? Where?
Gene bites his lip.
School? College? Basketball? Tell me!
Taizé, he eventually mutters.
What?!
She gapes at him, amazed.
Taizé, Gene repeats. He said he got it at Christian camp.
Christian camp? His wife is stunned.
He said everyone was doing it there. Gene shrugs. He said
And he smuggled it home? she interrupts. I mean he actually smuggled it home on the Eurostar?
Yup Gene nods Im afraid so.
How much?
Not much. Just one joint. He said he was saving it for a special
Good Lord!
She crosses herself, and then, Look at me! she exclaims, mortified. Im crossing myself!
The point is
I mean after everything weve taught him! After everything youve been through. And Mallory! After everything !
I know. Gene takes a couple of steps towards her. Im as shattered by this as you are. But if its any kind of compensation, I honestly think he learned a valuable lesson today, and hes not going to be rushing off to do it again any time soon.
You already said that.
She takes a couple of steps away from him. And it isnt, she adds, flatly, almost as an afterthought, it isnt okay, I mean.
Gene stares at her, morosely, and then returns to the bed. He removes his shirt. He is silently cursing Jen in his head. Sheila has sat back down and is picking up the jacket.
Why did you say she was here again? she asks (as though reading his thoughts). Im still a little confused about that part.
Your guess is as good as mine. Gene shrugs, and then, Dyou need more light?
He leans over to the lamp on his bedside table and turns it on. As the extra light fills the room, she glances over at him, irritably, then her eyes widen as they settle on a strange, blue-red bruise on his shoulder.
When she found out that Ransom had stayed here overnight
Found out? Sheila echoes, distractedly. How did she find out?
She rang me at work.
She has your mobile number?
His wife looks mildly surprised.
She got it off one of the receptionists at the Thistle.
He sits down on the bed.
I see. Sheila nods. She seems to find this answer satisfactory.
When she found out hed stayed here overnight, she demanded our home phone number.
And you gave it to her?
His wifes eyes are drawn back to the bruise again as he reaches under his pillow and withdraws a vest and some pyjama bottoms.
She caught me off guard. I was in the middle of this complicated scenario at work, collecting a little girl from her childminder as a favour to a client. It was He scowls. It was complicated, he repeats. The child had been jumping on a trampoline without any underwear, and the neighbour the childminder asked me to have a quiet word with the mother or the aunt
He glances over at his wife as he speaks. She is staring at him, almost speculatively. He struggles to decipher the exact nature of her look.
It was this ridiculously loaded situation, he continues, his confidence starting to flag slightly, a stupid situation, just really embarrassing, and then Jen happens to ring up in the middle of it all. He grimaces. I just gave her the number to get rid of her. She probably tried it a few times, got no answer, so decided to head over to the house on the off-chance
She has our address.
This is a statement, not a question, and Sheilas voice sounds disturbingly matter-of-fact.
Well she knows youre the rector of the church. Gene shrugs. It probably didnt take much native ingenuity to work it out.
Gene starts to take his trousers off.
You have a huge bruise on your back, his wife announces.
Pardon?
He peers over at her, frowning.
A huge bruise.
Do I?
Gene puts a clumsy hand to his back.
Higher. On the shoulder. Its pretty bad, actually.
Gene tries to peer over at it.
Dyou have any idea how you mightve done that?
Uh No. Gene scowls. Not really.
Sheila gently places down the jacket. She suddenly looks pale, almost ill.
I need to clear my head, she announces, standing up.
Why? Where are you going? Gene asks, confused (still feeling around, aimlessly, for the bruise).
She walks to the door, her voice so low when she finally answers him as to be rendered virtually inaudible.
To pray, she murmurs, huskily, thats all.
A flat-footed, heavily pregnant Jamaican woman (a veritable hormonal maelstrom, with slightly receding hair, a bad weave, gappy teeth and tired, bloodshot eyes) stands at Ransoms shoulder as he completes his shave in a large, beautifully appointed hotel bathroom.
Remember what Jimmie always use to say, eh, Stu?
She tenderly plucks a pale flake of dandruff from the shoulder of his dark grey bathrobe.
No response.
Ransom carefully glides the razor from his chin to his sideburn.
Jimmie always say: Good golf successful golf not about aiming for the star or settin yourself unreachable goal, it all about acceptin where you are, consolidatin what you got, then gently transitioning to the next level.
Still no response.
Baby step, eh, Stu? she persists. That all we need from you right now. That all we askin from you right now. Not huge leap or giant stride or any of that other crazy shit. Just baby step. You know?
We?
Ransom leans forward and inspects the small glass cut on his cheek in the mirror.
We? he repeats, snorting, his eyes flicking towards her. I thought I sacked all the others.
You sack me too she grimaces but I was dumb enough to stick around.
Yeah, funny, that
Ransom gently moves his nose to the left and carefully applies the blade to an especially hard-to-reach area below his right nostril.