Читать книгу The Living - Anjali Joseph - Страница 20

Jason and I needed to talk about next year. I didn’t remember when we’d had a conversation that lasted longer than a few minutes and didn’t end with him walking off. I watched him eating his tea tonight, but he didn’t look at me. He knew I wanted to talk; I knew he didn’t.

He doesn’t look that much like his dad, thank God. Except his colouring. There was an age – when he was eleven, twelve – when he looked just like Pete. It was strange – the first man I’d been with appearing from time to time in my son. Pete wasn’t even a man when we started up. We were kids, but we thought we were grown up. He looked older, more like a man, around the time he left. It hurt for so long. Now I can’t believe how young we were – almost Jason’s age.

Jason’s the same build as Pete now – tall, broad in the shoulder, not like me. The same dark hair and blue eyes. But he reminds me more of Jim, Jim who isn’t there any more. I used to tell him when he looked like someone. Now I don’t bother. He doesn’t like it. He’s good at shaking things off, Jason. He doesn’t have to say anything. He just looks across, like a little bull, eyes big and direct, and gets ready to refuse.

But he did say something, just before he took his plate to the sink. Mum, some of the lads are going to Newquay in August.

Oh right? I said.

For a week or ten days. Staying in a hostel. I want to go.

Do you, I said. I find myself saying stupid things, like my mum, when I don’t want to say yes but I don’t know how not to.

Can I? For my birthday? He stopped and looked at me straight. He was properly asking.

When are they leaving?

The fifth or so.

Can’t you come back for your birthday? I was thinking of having a party. You could have your friends round.

He didn’t quite roll his eyes.

Why am I always trying to stop him, I thought.

We could have it when I get back, he said. Couple of days later.

Like the nineteenth or twentieth? All right, I said. Have you got enough money?

Yeah yeah, he said. He had his back to me. He was even washing the plate. Nearly, he said.

How much do you need?

Maybe a hundred and fifty quid.

Early birthday present, eh? I said.

He turned round and grinned at me. His grin can floor you, that boy. Thanks, Mum, he said.

I went to the bedroom and tried not to think about Jason battered out of his mind in Newquay and the stories you read in the paper. I’d make him text me every day. Because that’d help. It always went like this. I said no no no no oh okay then. I didn’t want to be that parent, the one who says no and doesn’t know what happens. Not that anyone knows.

And this wasn’t why I’d said yes, I swear, but I also thought: the house empty for ten days.