News Where You Are

40

Henry had him in the corner again. ‘ “Points make prizes!” ’

Frank shook his head.

‘ “Cheap as chips!” ’

‘What? Henry! No, that’s not me.’

Henry shrugged with indifference before the finger shot up again. ‘ “Play the game or take the train!” ’

‘Is that a catchphrase?’

‘Oh yes. Oh yes, quite definitely. Somebody said it. Was it you?’

‘No, it wasn’t me.’

‘Ooh I know I’ve seen you on something. I’m wracking my brains. Wracking them. Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrracking them.’

Henry was getting so much pleasure in repeating the word that Frank thought he might make a getaway, but Henry focused on him again. ‘Oh, all right, then! Give me a clue. Come on. Just what is it you say?’

‘Hmm. I sometimes say, “Good night.” Or maybe, “Have a good night.” Or other times, “Take care.” ’

Henry stared at Frank, the humour draining from his face. ‘ “Good night”?’

‘Yes.’ Frank shrugged. ‘I don’t really have a catchphrase.’

Henry’s eyes searched Frank’s face as if seeing him for the first time. ‘Well, what’s the bloody use of you?’ he said in disgust as he walked back to his armchair in the window.

Frank considered the question and really couldn’t think of a satisfactory answer.

He left the residents’ lounge and walked in the direction of his mother’s room. As he passed the dining room, he saw Irene drinking a cup of tea. She smiled and waved when she saw him.

‘Hello, Frank, visiting your mother, are you?’

‘Yes, well, partly. I haven’t actually made it to her room yet. I got trapped in the residents’ lounge by Henry.’

Irene looked blank. ‘I don’t think I’ve met a Henry. Is he a fan of yours?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Oh, I see.’

Frank hesitated. He knew he should let it go, but found himself reaching into his pocket for the photo.

‘Actually, I wanted to see you too. There’s something I should have asked you last time, but I just didn’t think. Can I show you something?’

He waited while some complicated business with glasses was completed. Irene eventually found the right combination and, wearing one pair whilst holding the other a few inches from the photo, she peered at the image.

‘My God, look at Phil — he’s just a boy. He wasn’t much older than that when we met. Look at that smile! That was the first thing I noticed about him. When Phil smiled at you, everything was all right. That’s how he got away with murder.’ Her smile faded. ‘Photos are cruel things. It’s terrible to see what’s happened to us. I can’t look at mine any more. They’re too sad.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Frank. ‘What about the other boy? Do you recognize him?’

Irene angled the glasses again and extended her neck backwards as if avoiding an unpleasant smell. ‘Oh … it’s Mikey, isn’t it?’

Frank nodded. ‘Michael Church.’

‘That’s right, we always called him Mikey. I’ve often wondered what happened to him. I asked Phil about him a few times but they’d lost contact.’

‘Do you remember much about him?’

‘A fair bit. He was Phil’s oldest friend. They were friends from when they were lads. Well, you can see that from the photo. He was best man at our wedding. I think it was a bit of an ordeal for him, having to make a speech. He was a shy lad.’

‘Did you see him much?’

‘A fair bit in the early years. He’d often come round to call for Phil. They’d go for a drink or a game of cards. They did their National Service together and I wasn’t really interested in listening to their stories. Phil was always going on about Mikey being a good shot — what is it? A marksman? I don’t know — but apparently Mikey was really something with a gun and Phil thought that was marvellous. Poor Mikey always looked embarrassed when he’d start going on about it.’ She looked at the photo again. ‘Is he still alive?’

Frank shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. He was found dead recently. I heard about it and half remembered meeting him one time with Phil. I thought I’d see if I could trace any family. He died alone.’

‘Oh, poor Mikey. He was a lovely boy.’ She stopped for a moment to think. ‘I know his mother lived up near town, but she’d be long gone by now, of course. He didn’t have any brothers or sisters. I think Phil and he were like brothers when they were young.’ She put the photo down and looked towards the window.

‘I liked Mikey. He was nothing like Phil. He was a quiet lad, a bit of a dreamer. Married his childhood sweetheart. He’d stand by quietly while Phil rattled off his usual nonsense. I don’t know how they ever drifted apart, really — I mean Phil thought the world of him. But then Phil could be careless; he moved around and he didn’t make the effort to keep in touch and I could imagine Mikey as the type who wouldn’t want to bother Phil when he got more famous.’ She paused. ‘Phil was all chat and smiles, but there wasn’t much else underneath — I found that out for myself. This lad was quiet, but I think underneath he had something Phil never had.’

‘What was that?’

‘I don’t know. There was just something there, some substance. He seemed solid somehow.’

Irene looked up at the ceiling, trying to think. ‘There were far worse men to be married to than Phil, I know that, and I know he was your friend, but he was a weak man and he knew it, as he was drawn to people who weren’t. I think that’s what he saw in me, some strength he didn’t have, and I think it’s what he saw in Mikey. He never told me much about their past, but he did say that Mikey was bullied at school because his dad had been German — he’d done a runner years before, but of course everyone knew. Phil said Mikey would get a beating from the other lads most days, but he’d always fight back. I asked Phil what he used to do while his mate was getting beaten and to give him his due he was at least honest: he said he used to hide. I suppose it’s to his credit that he was the only one who was friendly with Mikey. He said he’d try and make Mikey laugh on the way home. He’d pretend to be a commentator and give his analysis of the fight, or he’d do impressions of the bullies and Mikey would laugh. Phil said he loved the sound of Mikey laughing. I suppose that was what Mikey admired about Phil, his gift of the gab, his ability to make him laugh, his charm. Everyone admired that about Phil and it made him think that that was all you needed in life, a nice surface.’ She peered at Frank through her glasses. ‘You’re not like that, are you?’

Frank smiled and shook his head. ‘I don’t think too much of my surface. I wouldn’t wear jumpers like this if I did.’

Irene laughed. ‘It does look like it’s seen better days — just like me.’ She looked again at the photo and her face changed. ‘Poor Phil. He was nice enough in his own way, but I’m glad I found a real person to marry in the end.’