Читать книгу The Last Family in England - Matt Haig - Страница 15

powder

Hal was pouring his white powder into a glass and filling it with water. He was in his pyjamas, as he had been for the past few days.

‘Mum’s still at the hospital,’ he told Adam, without being asked.

‘Oh,’ said Adam. ‘And Lottie?’

‘Yeah, she’s back. Sarah’s mum dropped her off. She’s upstairs.’

Adam started to tell Hal about the smashed bottle, but before he had time to complete the story, Hal leant forward clutching his stomach. He then turned, and moved quickly towards the downstairs bathroom. Ill-smells lingered.

Adam went to watch TV.

I followed him and, as Kate still wasn’t back, curled up by his side on the settee.

He stroked my head as he flicked through the channels, past dogs playing the piano and cats dancing.

Hal returned from the toilet, still clutching his stomach.

‘How was it?’ Adam asked him.

‘Still the same.’

‘Oh dear.’

Charlotte was coming down the stairs. She had left her bedroom door open, to let her music filter through. Adam and Hal didn’t say anything as she entered. Charlotte seemed to have a new look.

‘All right, shitpants?’ she said to her brother.

‘Don’t talk like that,’ said Adam.

‘Why? That’s what he is, isn’t it?’

‘He’s got diarrhoea. He feels very poorly. And what has happened to your face? You look like Death.’

‘It’s make-up.’

‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ Hal said with mock-reassurance one hand still on his stomach. ‘She’s thirteen. She’s lost and confused. She needs to experiment with different identities. Last week Britney, this week Marilyn Manson. We should try and be there for –’ He clutched his stomach and made a sound to indicate he was in pain.

‘Piss off, shitpants.’ And before Adam had time to reprimand her she was already making her way back upstairs.