Читать книгу The Shock of the Fall - Nathan Filer, Nathan Filer - Страница 14

I think of Mum zipping closed my orange winter coat again, and pulling up the hood again so the grey fur lining clings to the sweat on my forehead and brushes at my ears. I think of it, and it is happening. Hot honey and lemon drunk down in gulps from the mug I once gave to her – no longer special – and a bitter chalky after-taste of ground-up paracetamol.

‘I’m sorry about the other day, sweetheart.’

‘Sorry for what, Mummy?’

‘For dragging you past the playground, with the other children staring.’

‘Were you punishing me?’

‘I don’t know. I might have been. I’m not sure.’

‘Do we have to do it again?’

‘I think so, yes. You have your coat on.’

‘You put it on me. You zipped it up.’

‘Did I?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then we should go.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘I know that, Matthew. But you’re unwell, and you might need antibiotics. We need to get you seen. Did I really zip your coat up?’

‘But why now? Why can’t we wait until after playtime has finished?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t worked that out yet.’

I pass her back the empty mug, World’s Greatest Mum. I think of this and I am there again. She’s opening the door, reaching out her hand. I take it, and I am there.

‘No!’

‘Matthew, don’t answer me back. We need to go. We need to get you seen.’

‘No. I want Dad.’

‘Don’t be silly, he’s at work. Now you’re letting all the cold air inside. Stop it. We need to go.’

Her grip is tight, but I’m stronger than she thinks. I pull back hard, and snag at her charm bracelet with the hook of my finger.

‘Now look what you’ve done. It’s broken.’ She bends over to pick up the fallen chain, with its tiny silver charms littering the ground. I push past her. I push her harder than I should. She loses balance, arms flapping like pigeon wings before she falls. ‘Matthew! Wait! What is it?’

In a few strides I’m through the gate, slamming it behind me. I run as fast as I can, but she’s catching up. My foot skids off the pavement, I’m startled by the urgent blast from a speeding van.

‘Baby, wait. Please.’

‘No.’

I take my chance, running across the main road, cutting between a line of cars, causing one to swerve. She’s forced to wait. I round the corner, and the next, and am at my school. ‘Is that you again, Matthew? Hey, it’s Matthew again. Look, his mum’s chasing him. His mum’s chasing him. Look! His mum’s chasing him!’

I am ahead, and she is chasing. She’s crying out for me to stop. She’s calling me her baby. She’s calling me her baby boy. I stop. Turn around. Then fall into her arms.

‘Look at them. Look at them. Get a teacher, someone. Look at them.’ I am lifted from the ground, held by her. She is kissing my forehead and telling me that it will be okay. She’s carrying me, and I can feel her heartbeat through my stupid hood.

‘I’m so sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s okay baby boy.’

‘I miss him so much, Mum.’

‘I know you do. Oh, my baby. I know you do.’ She’s carrying me, and I can feel her heartbeat through my stupid hood.