Close to Where the Heart Gives Out by Malcolm Alexander

Author:Malcolm Alexander [Alexander, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Michael O'Mara
Published: 2019-06-12T23:00:00+00:00

11

Things Unsaid

There were only 125 patients on the practice list and probably a similar number of mice when we first arrived in our new home. Mealtimes are silent now, though, no longer accompanied by the staccato rhythm of mousetraps going off, much to the disappointment of the boys, who were enjoying the chorus of the mousetrap song – ‘That’s another one gone, Nana, only twenty more to go!’ In the few weeks Maggie has been away I’ve been busy around the house trying to improve it for her return. The holes in the skirtings are full of wire wool and Polyfilla so we haven’t seen many mice for a while. New white Artex covers the cracks and crumbles in the walls and Peedie-boot-friendly brown carpet tiles have been laid in the kitchen area. The house is slowly turning around; settling to its new finishes, preparing for a new arrival.

In late May the evening light is strong now, hardly fading until eleven o’clock. The extra light is energizing, mood-lifting, giving the island a whole new life, summer life. There’s nearly perpetual daylight, the island resting in the ‘simmer dim’ only briefly from midnight to two in the morning. I love this light, it gives me energy, reducing my need for sleep. So here I am, twenty feet in the air, holding a five-inch wall brush in one hand, a plastic bucket of whitewash in the other hand, ready to sort out this grey building while listening to a reading of Janet and John Went to the Park rising up from the bottom of the ladder.

Matthew is sitting on the grass, wearing his favourite Lenny the Lion jumper, working his way through his page of reading homework. He is word-perfect, thank goodness, and really quite fast tonight. Is he too fast? The tiny inflections in his voice, the lack of hesitation, the steady rhythm, confident in his words, knowing that they’re true. Something doesn’t feel right. In medicine there’s a lot of talk about intuition. It doesn’t exist. Details exists, tiny insignificant fleeting details; like Sherlock Holmes, you have to see, hear, feel all the small things. The finger tightenings, eyelid flickerings, word choosing, rhythms of speech. These things point to the anxieties, tensions, sad half-truths that block diagnosis and mask the deeper stories. Is there something not right? Maybe it’s this light making me excited, fanciful, over-imaginative.

Below me in the garden, with all the homework finished now, the boys are running around screaming. The little ones are not quite big enough for a proper game of football, so Martin is being ‘big brother’ and letting them have shots at him in goal. A snow-white Peedie head chasing a much larger ginger Mikey head, while a tousled fair-headed Matthew waits on a shot at goal. They’re doing okay without their mum. They’re really a good little team, looking out for each other. I’m proud of them.

Quick strokes with the paintbrush on the rough wall are accompanied by a song in my head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.