Happy as Larry Read Online Free

sour fish and red soft-drink soup on him. Vince took a step back and caught most of the mess in his cupped hands. They frog-marched Larry to the bathroom and cleaned the vomit splash at the sink.
    â€˜I think he may be a little concussed,’ offered Vince.
    Larry’s face was pale and the lump on his forehead had the purple smoothness of a river rock.
    â€˜Nice introduction,’ Denise said. ‘Welcome to the house of Rainbow.’
    Vince gave an affable laugh.
    The moment ended as Anita Ward and two other maternal types crowded at the bathroom door. They clucked and moaned in sympathy at sight of the egg on Larry’s head.
    â€˜Do you want a lift to Casualty?’ Vince asked, his voice cello-warm amid the women’s violins.
    Denise looked at Vince and again at her son. Suddenly the bump on the head seemed serious. As she waited for Vince to bring his ancient and rust-pocked white Peugeot to the nature strip in front of the house, words like ‘brain damage’ and ‘blood clot’ and ‘haemorrhage’ fanned her mounting sense of urgency.
    Mal appeared beside her. ‘What is it? What happened?’
    Denise put on a brave face. ‘It’s nothing. Larry bumped his head.’
    â€˜Is he okay?’
    â€˜He’ll be fine,’ she bluffed, as Vince’s car bumped the gutter. ‘Vince is taking us down to the hospital. Just to be on the safe side.’
    â€˜I’ll come. I should come,’ Mal said. He opened the car door and it creaked like a haunted house.
    â€˜No. It’s fine, Mal. Larry will be fine.’
    Denise felt his hand covering her head as she ducked into the passenger’s seat with the sniffling Larry on her lap. The door groaned as he shut it. He made the shape of a phone at her through the window. She nodded.
    The waiting room at Casualty was surprisingly empty and a doctor called Denise’s name less that a minute after she’d finished filling out the form.
    â€˜I’ll wait here,’ Vince said.
    Denise had only known the man for minutes, but he had the welcome presence of shade on a hot day, and her look implored him to come.
    â€˜Of course,’ Vince said, with a smile.
    The doctor hoisted Larry onto a bench and examined him deftly.
    â€˜You were lucky, Larry,’ he eventually said. ‘Just a bump.’
    He spoke to Denise and Vince as though they had equal share in Larry’s wellbeing, and Vince listened and nodded and played the part.
    In quiet reflection that evening, both Denise and Vince – in their separate houses – admitted to themselves that they seemed to be neighbours by design rather than happy coincidence. The transition from not knowing each other to knowing seemed so smooth and effortless, as though the spinning cogs of their respective worlds had drawn together and meshed with perfect synchronicity.
    Vince thanked providence.
    Denise thanked the Lord.
    Vince had found his daughter and Denise her father, and for them at least the jump-cut made sense.

GRASS
    O N M ONDAY 12 S EPTEMBER 1994 , two things happened in the world that whispered of greater changes to come. A light aircraft crashed into the White House, and Mal Rainbow got a licence to drive a car. At thirty-two years of age, Mal was the oldest learner-driver his instructor had ever taught, though he assured Mal that colleagues had groomed sixty-year-old and seventy-year-old beginners. Mal knew the instructor was trying to make him feel better, but all he succeeded in doing was evoking a sickening feeling of inadequacy.
    Mal passed his test but almost passed out when he was asked to parallel park.
    He didn’t want to own a car; he wanted opportunities. Stan Ward had invited him to drive his furniture van on Saturdays, making deliveries of whitegoods for Stan’s brother, and Mal jumped at the offer. The romance of owning a new home had faded and Mal found himself looking for ways to supplement his income; looking