Page 57 of We All Live Here
“Attaboy! Your old pal here will vamoose. Just say the word.”
Afterward, Lila wonders if Gene’s generosity of spirit is entirely altruistic. Should Bill move on with another woman, he is unlikely to want his room at Lila’s in the future. But Eleanor would no doubt have labeled that as an incredibly cynical and bleak view of human nature, even for her, so Lila nods encouragement and lets that one pass too.
“By the way, honey,” says Gene, “we fixed your john.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The lavatory,” says Bill. “The green bathroom. The one that kept blocking. We had a look on the outside wall this morning and we worked out that whoever installed it hadn’t put the soil pipe leg at the right angle where it feeds into the bathroom. That was why it kept backing up.”
“It was basically horizontal,” said Gene.
“It absolutely was. So Gene and I went to the plumbing-supplies shop, got a new piece of pipe, and re-fixed it to the main pipe at a slightly altered angle. I trust you’ll find that it solves the problem. I think we did rather a good job.”
“You fixed the loo?” Lila cannot get her head around the idea of these two men at a plumbing-supplies shop together. Let alone having the practical skills to fix the problem.
“We certainly did,” says Bill. “Flushes like a dream now.”
Lila cannot speak. She looks at them, at their sweet, proud expressions,and is suddenly flooded by an unfamiliar feeling. It might be uncomplicated affection.
“Even after a big curry,” adds Gene.
“Oh,” says Lila. They stand there, all basking in the moment. And then Lila gives her head a shake. “So, hang on, that bloody plumber has been charging me three hundred quid every few weeks for what? Sticking a coat hanger down the bog? I’m going to kill him.”
Chapter Twenty
Celie
Truant never gets onto the bed—it’s one of his “things,” along with never asking for a belly rub, only taking treats from Mum and Celie, and acting like everyone who comes to the door has come to murder them in their beds. But right now he is gazing at her from her duvet and Celie could not love him more. He understands. He is literally the only person in the world who does. The moment she walked into her room and finally let out the tears that had been swelling inside her head for the entire bus journey home, he had put his nose around the door, stood on the threshold for a minute, then nimbly leaped up and settled beside her. Not actually touching, his body is curled so that he is not suggesting he is definitely there in a support role, but she knows he is. Because Truant never gets onto the bed, and Celie has never felt sadder in her life.
The party is going to be a big one. China’s parents are away, and she and Meena have sent out invites on Snapchat and she is literally the only person in year eleven who hasn’t got one. The girls who were her best friends in the whole world for the whole of school have organized a party and she isn’t invited. Even Martin O’Malley is going. Martin O’Malley and that weird girl Katya who only joined in year nine and everyone says smells of cheese. And the only reason she even knows about the party is because Martin O’Malley came up to her in the lunch queue and asked her if she was going. She had thought briefly that she might keel over from the shock—it was like being kicked in the stomach—and then she recovered and said no, maybe, not sure, she hadn’t decided yet, but she was pretty sure she has no poker face because he had a horrible look of sympathy in his eyes when he walked away.
She reaches over and strokes Truant’s soft black head. He looks a little wary, his eyes sliding toward her, but doesn’t move, and then she puts her face into the pillow beside him and cries hot, silent tears.
She is not sure when Gene appeared, but it becomes obvious when Truant sets up a long, warning growl. She lifts her head and sees him standing there, his wrinkly old fingers on the door handle, his head cocked toward her. “Hey, what’s going on,chica?”
She turns away from him. She does not want to have a Gene conversation right now. “Nothing.”
“You got a headache? I have some Advil in my—”
“No.”
A pause.
“You mad at your mom?”
“No, I am not mad at Mum.”
She turns away from him and stares at the wall, willing him to disappear. And his voice comes from behind her. “Got your period?”
She pushes herself upright. “Oh, my God, just goaway!”
He pulls a face. “Yeah, see, that’s the thing. I can’t just walk out andleave a lady crying. Doesn’t feel right.” He stands in the doorway, while she rubs furiously at her eyes, wishing he would just leave. But he takes another step toward her. Truant’s growl grows louder. “You sure you don’t have your period?”
“Please just go.”
He goes, and she breathes a shaky sigh of relief, but he is back within minutes and this time opens the door without even knocking. She is about to yell at him but he throws something toward her, which lands on the bed. Truant jumps out of his skin and disappears behind the curtains, letting out brief warning barks, interspersed with growling.
She picks it up, trying to ignore the noise. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. “What’s this?”
