Another World by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Group UK
Published: 2008-10-23T22:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

‘Poor little scrap,’ Nick says, bending over Jasper’s cot. ‘You have been in the wars.’ Already, beneath the superficial graze, there’s an area of darkened skin. ‘It’s going to be a nasty bruise.’

Fran comes across to look. ‘Do you think I should call the doctor?’

‘No, I don’t think so. He’s been all right since, hasn’t he?’

‘Fine. I’ll take him into the surgery tomorrow.’

They go downstairs to the kitchen, where Nick pours himself a whisky and Fran a Perrier. ‘How was shopping?’

‘Horrendous.’

‘But you got the shoes?’

‘We got the shoes. Which leaves the shirts, the trousers, the tie, the gym kit and the blazer.’

‘You know, I think he might be right about the blazer. You don’t see many kids wearing them.’

‘That’s what it says on the list.’

‘No, but you remember university, first day you buy the college scarf, second day you chuck it in the bin – might be a bit like that.’

No, Fran thinks, I don’t remember university. I don’t remember how it feels to have a waist or a decent night’s sleep or a pee without somebody yelling and banging on the door. I don’t remember life.

Then she thinks, snap out of it, you frigging miserable cow. A gin would help. Nick offers her one; she has a second Perrier with ice and lemon instead. ‘How was Geordie?’

‘Not good. In fact, I’ve said I’ll go back tonight. He’s very restless.’

‘Can’t they give him sleeping pills?’

‘They have, he won’t take them.’

Silence.

‘I know it’s a lot to ask.’

‘No, it’s not. It’s just… Miranda.’

‘I thought she might help.’

‘I can’t use her as a nanny. Anyway, she’s got her own problems.’

‘He’s not going to last more than a week.’

‘All right.’ She leans across and kisses him. ‘Ring me before you go to bed?’

Geordie’s face becomes more skull-like as night approaches. It’s just the effect of increasing tiredness – Nick knows that – but it’s difficult not to imagine that he’s witnessing flesh peeling back from bones, revealing what’s been there all along, working its way to the surface from the moment of birth. Geordie nods off, then wakes with a start, staring round him as if he doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. With darkness falling, the other world closes in.

At nine thirty, immediately after the news, he says, ‘Well, that’s it, then, I’m done in.’

Nick goes upstairs with him and sees him settled into bed. ‘There’s nowt like it,’ he says. ‘Nowt like your own bed.’ He burrows down on the left-hand side of the double bed. Even after forty-odd years he still leaves space for his wife. With part of his mind he’s convinced she’s just popped across the landing for a pee.

Geordie falls asleep immediately, and again wakes, this time with a cry of fear. Nothing, it’s nothing. The room comes back. Some old bugger’s sitting up in bed blinking at him; after a fractional hesitation he identifies his reflection in the mirror. There’s sweat in the creases of his neck. It’s always so vivid, Harry’s face clearer than his own hand in front of his eyes, and yet distorted.

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