grown
a lot in three years.’
‘Guys do,’ I
said. ‘He must be about eighteen now. He knew Peter.’
Dad blinked
and stared at the ceiling. We shared a silence while I chewed my cornflakes,
wondering what David must look like now, and what he thought about everything
that had happened.
‘Well, that’ll
be a nice friend for you,’ he said in almost a whisper, neglecting to meet my
eyes. ‘Perhaps he’ll come around to see you.’
‘I doubt it,’
I said, knowing where this was going. Dad was playing games. The truth was he hated the thought of any guys coming near me, especially without him around.
‘Well he
might,’ he said, looking at me.
I couldn’t
stand the look on his face, as if he expected me to answer up to something; as
if I’d been unfaithful or had unfaithful thoughts. I spooned another mouthful
of cornflakes into my mouth and nodded in agreement instead, making him flush
red from the neck up. ‘Yeah, I guess he might. I’d be glad to see him,’ I lied.
‘Well,’ said
dad, getting up and pushing his chair in. ‘I’ve got to get off now, but I’ll be
back by five. I’ve unfolded your chair and put it in the hall in case you need
it. If that David boy does come to see you, I hope he’s willing to be as
attentive as I am to your needs.’
‘Don’t be like
that, Dad,’ I said mid–chew, but he was already slamming the front door before
I could even swallow my mouthful.
Chapter Three
David was one
of the only other people I knew who was friends with Peter at the time he died,
and that meant I needed to see him right away. He was all I had left of our old
life here; the life that had drifted away from me three years ago. The life I
desperately wanted back.
Dad left,
after warning me to stay home for when my new counsellor, Melanie, arrived at
one o’clock. I wheeled myself to the living room and checked myself in the
mirror. I didn’t look a bit how David would remember me. I was a good couple of
stone lighter, skinny in fact, from all the trouble with my knee. My hair was
shorter. My brown eyes had permanent dark circles around them now.
I couldn’t
help getting saddened by the fact that David had to see me like this, let alone
anticipate the awkwardness between us. He knew everything, after all: where
Peter died, that I was with him, that I almost lost my leg on the boat
propeller. He knew that Peter’s dad was in prison.
He knew that I
put him there.
But that
couldn’t be helped and besides, people changed. I thought perhaps David was
different now too; or rather, I hoped.
I wheeled
myself into the hall and shivered as I pulled my coat off the banister and
shrugged it on. This house was definitely getting colder, damper. Even the
wallpaper was peeling away. I couldn’t wait to get out of this rotten cottage,
even though I loved it so.
I had a good
few memories here, and yet something about it felt different now; changed or
tampered with, like something was disturbing the atmosphere. It was probably
us. My father and I were back, and we were making the house uneasy.
I had one last
decision to make: chair or stick? I imagined myself struggling down the steep
hill to the quay, rain pelting down on me, but on the plus side I would be tall
and more...elegant–looking. David wouldn’t feel obliged to push me along, and I
could —for the first time in ages — feel capable again. A strong independent
woman, as they said in Cosmo .
Then again, I
thought: my knee could give out. I might fall down that hill. I could make it
worse. David might feel obliged to help me home.
Was that such
a bad idea? I wasn’t fond of the guy, not remotely; but in the battle between
sexes that was hardly the point. I’d read enough magazines and watched enough
TV in my time to know that impressions were everything for a woman, no matter
what the purpose or cause. A woman should always look her best .
And David
would be the first male I’d had contact with in a very long time.