A Spot Of Bother

34

Katie was going to have to apologize on Monday.

She was standing in the middle of Toddler One with Jacob swinging on her scarf while Ellen tried to tell her about World Awareness Day the following week. But there was so much Ray-related crap in Katie’s head that she wasn’t taking anything in. And the picture that kept coming to mind was one from that zombie film, Ellen’s head being hacked off with a plank and the blood squirting out of her severed neck.

When they got onto the bus she tried to put Ray out of her head by asking Jacob what he’d been doing at nursery. But he was too tired to talk. He stuck a thumb into his mouth and slid a hand inside her jacket to massage the fleecy lining.

The bus driver was trying to break some kind of land speed record. It was raining and she could smell the sweat of the woman sitting to her right.

She wanted to break something. Or hurt someone.

She put her arm round Jacob and tried to absorb some of his calm.

Jesus, she could have taken Graham to the nearest hotel and shagged the living daylights out of him, for all the shit she was getting.

The bus stopped. Violently.

They got off. As they did so Katie told the bus driver he was a nob-head. Unfortunately Jacob was picking up an interesting piece of mud at the time so Katie tripped over him, which diminished the effect somewhat.

When they opened the front door Ray was already there. She could tell. The hall lights were off but there was something sullen and crackly in the air, like going into a cave and knowing the ogre was round the corner chewing on a shinbone.

They went into the kitchen. Ray was sitting at the table.

Jacob said, “We went on the bus. Mummy said a rude word. To the driver.”

Ray didn’t reply.

She bent down and spoke to Jacob. “You go upstairs and play for a bit, OK? Ray and I need to talk.”

“I want to play down here.”

“You can come down and play in a little while,” said Katie. “Why don’t you get your Playmobil truck out, eh?” She needed him to be helpful in the next five seconds or a gasket was going to pop.

“Don’t want to,” said Jacob. “It’s boring.”

“I’m serious. You go upstairs now. I’ll be up soon. Here, let me take your coat off.”

“Want my coat on. Want a monster drink.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jacob,” yelled Katie. “Get upstairs. Now.”

For a moment she thought Ray was going to do his famous manly diplomatic routine and persuade Jacob to go quietly upstairs by using mind power and she was going to go apoplectic at the sheer bloody hypocrisy of it all. But Jacob just stamped his feet and said, “I hate you,” and huffed off with the hood of his coat still up, like a very angry gnome.

She turned to Ray, “We were having a cup of coffee together. He’s the father of my child. I wanted a chat. And if you think I’m going to marry anyone who treats me the way you treated me today then you’ve got another think coming.”

Ray stared at her without saying a word. Then he stood up, walked sullenly into the hallway, picked up his jacket and slammed the front door behind him.

Jesus.

She went into the kitchen, gripped the edge of the sink and hung on to it very tightly for about five minutes so she didn’t scare Jacob by screaming or smashing something.

She took a swig of milk from the fridge and walked upstairs. Jacob was sitting on the side of his bed, still in his coat, hood up, looking tense, the way he did after parental arguments, waiting for that taxi to the orphanage.

She sat on the bed and pulled him onto her lap. “I’m sorry I got angry.” She felt him soften as his little arms reached around her. “You get angry sometimes, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, “I get angry with you.”

“But I still love you.”

“I love you, too, Mummy.”

They held each other for a few seconds.

“Where did Daddy Ray go?” asked Jacob.

“He went out. He doesn’t like arguments very much.”

“I don’t like arguments.”

“I know,” said Katie.

She slid the hood from his head, brushed a few flakes of cradle cap from his hair, then kissed him.

“I love you, little squirrel. I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.”

He squiddled free. “I want to play with my truck.”