Page 40 of Maybe
“Yes, that as well.” I flashed her an exasperated scowl. “But more than that. I can tell, you know? It’s always been there. He told me that, too.”
“I hope it bloody hasn’t,” she responded sharply. “He was a child when you left, Ez. Fourteen.”
“I don’t mean like that. I mean… we click. When we started seeing each other again, I realised how much I missed him. And I assumed it was just… you know… because he’s my brother. But at the gig, seeing him on a night out, having him with me felt like I’d invited along a date or something. Even Neil bloody picked up on it, and he was as high as a giraffe’s eyebrows. But… it’s hard to explain. Except having Isaac there, next to me, staring up at me with his huge bloody doe eyes, it was like an explosion going off.”
Carly made a derisive snort.
“Don’t be like that, Carls! It’s true!” An image of Isaac’s laughing mouth as he sat opposite me in McDonald’s flashed through my head. “He… he translates my song lyrics into the story of my life like he’s fucking bilingual.” Even Carly couldn’t. “And I know it sounds corny, but he’s, like, my soulmate. When he’s around, even though his life is a fucked-up pile of shite, I feel better about myself.”
“And you want to shag his brains out. You want anexplosion.”
“That’s not the point.” God, she could irritate me. “But, seeing as you mention it, yes, I do. But not for the sake of emptying my sacs. For a long time, like for maybe the rest of my life.”
Carly sighed heavily. “I thought you hated that family? If I remember correctly,aren’t theya bunch of insufferable troglodytes, whose mere existence is an elaborate prank orchestrated by the universe to test your dwindling patience?”
Jeez, did this woman ever forget anything? “Yeah. Well, Isaac’s different. I bunched him in with everyone else for the sake of convenience. But he’s the one for me, Carly. I know it. He always has been.”
Rolling her eyes, she shook out a pair of Jonty’s school trousers. “Blimey. I never thought I’d hear you say anything like that about anyone.”
“Nor did I,” I admitted. “Not until our father died and I saw Isaac again. Loving him isn’t a choice, Carly. It’s always been there. We both have shit to navigate, and I think that, as the last ten years have probably highlighted, we might both do that better together than estranged.”
Carly nodded, making a show of turning towards the door at her rear. Her lips curved in an amused smile.
“What are you staring at?” I asked, irritated.
“Nothing.” Chuckling, she carried on ironing the trousers. “Just wondering if Isaac was standing behind me and I hadn’t heard him come in. Because that sounds like the kind of speech he needs to hear, not me.”
“Aah. Well, I’m not sure I’m his favourite person right now.” Wincing, I see-sawed my hand from side to side. “I have a feeling the brother thing might be an issue for him.”
Carly snorted again. “Surely not.”
“And he’ll also think he has to choose between me and his mother. I’m not her favourite person either.”
“Can’t imagine why. Will he?”
Good question. “No. I don’t think so. I mean, Janice is never going to be my best buddy. If it wasn’t for her relationship with my father, my mum wouldn’t have gone under a fucking bus. But we can make it work.”
“Is she still living in London?”
“Yes. She’s in the same house I grew up in, except when she’s on some fancy holiday somewhere.”
“Spending those ill-gotten millions,” Carly surmised.
“Probably, but I don’t care. Similarly, I don’t care if she takes an Arctic cruise and the boat runs aground on a very pointy iceberg. But Isaac does. She’s his mother. Even though she’s possibly not the finest of the species, he loves her and cares what she thinks. And what Ed and Saffy would think, come to that. He wants them in his life.”
“Sounds like you need to build a few bridges then, doesn’t it?” She lowered her voice, drawing out the syllables. “If you want your precious Isaac forthe rest of your life.”
I flicked her the V’s. Carly did an annoyingly good impression of me, especially when I whined. Even more annoyingly, she was always right about everything.
Some things never changed. Such as the information you could prize from a ward clerk if you sounded official enough. When I was a kid, I’d heard my mum do it a hundred times, checking the whereabouts of my father, finding out whether it was worth keeping his pork chops warm or feeding them to the neighbour’s dog. Over the phone, I introduced myself as an ENT doctor from St George’s, wanting to query a patient with Dr Fitz-Henry. A very pleasant clerk attached to the emergency department informed me Dr Fitz-Henry would finish his shift at seven, and just before then would be a good time to page him.
Thus armed, I passed an agreeable half hour, from a few minutes after 7 p.m. onwards, squatting on the steps of Isaac’s mansion flat, strumming out my new tune.
“Do you have a licence for playing that here?”
A vaguely familiar, morose chap loomed over me. I couldn't place him until I spied the plastic bag of books tucked under his arm. Isaac’s date. Gerard? No. Gerald. I felt a prick of exasperation.This guy? WithmyIsaac? Not if I had anything to do with it.
“Nope.” I stood, towering over him seeing as I was still a step higher and a lanky streak of piss. “I was just killing time waiting for you, actually.” I thrust out my hand. “Geoffrey, isn’t it?”
