Boys and Girls (29 page)

In the living room (and I had to like go real easy through the hall because Dad was over by the door and talking to a, I don't know – carpenter or something, maybe, and hitting this piece of paper, bill I think, and saying You Cannot Be
Serious
, like again and again. And in the living room I was like really so totally surprised because on a table in a heap of about a million empty bottles and dirty glasses (God – and they go on at
me
) was this really cool like parcel? And my name on a label?
It's this book of
Grimm's Fairy Tales
, and I didn't actually go oh fuck me because I'd never seen a book as really great-looking as this one. Heavy and thick – and the pictures! Oh wow! I'm really like loving it. Turns out it's from the creep. The new guy. Who I'd totally decided not ever to meet, but I did of course. Had to, really. Happened later. On my fifteenth birthday, as it turned out. Didn't think at first that it was planned – and then I was like God, what am I
saying
? If Mum's involved, of course it's planned. Like a military thing, knowing her – yeh, and down to the last whatever. We were in this really cool like American diner kind of a place – all retro and really great like in
Grease
, yeh? They asked me where I wanted to go, and I said there. And Mum and Dad, they were like, are you sure? Because we could always go to a
proper
restaurant. And I was like – look, you asked me where I wanted to go, and I said
there
, OK? What's your problem? So we were in this kind of, I don't know – booth thing. Red and shiny with buttons, and on the table there's like a little jukebox? How cool is that? And ketchup and American mustard which is called French like the fries – crazy or what? – and this other cute thing with all like tiny little paper napkins in. I had a Diet Coke, but it was in the proper curvy bottle, with two straws. I thought it was Elvis playing, but Dad, he goes no, it's Little Richard, and I'm like Little
Who
 …? Big mistake, because I could see he was going to so – oh God –
tell
me? And that's when this old guy turns up at the table. Hah! And I thought it wasn't
planned
? He was what? Just like passing through? In his three-piece suit and his fucking funny shoes? I so don't think so. God – he was older than the bloody music. I thought it was gaga old Grandad at first, who I'd just been told was coming to the, oh man –
wedding
(and don't get me started on that. Jesus.). But how can he? Huh? How can he come? He's mental, isn't he?
That's what Dad says. That's why we don't ever see him, Dad says.

‘Is that true, Alan? Did you say that? Have you said that about Daddy? Have you?'

‘Well no. Obviously not.'

‘Yes you did, Dad. You did you did you did. You were always saying that.'

‘No no. Not at all. I may have suggested that he was less than … well look, Susan: face facts. That's why he's
in
that place, isn't it? Wouldn't be there otherwise. Would he? Stands to reason. Which is more than he ever does …'

‘He is just slightly …
distrait
, that's all. Gets easily confused. That's all. And it was cruel and very wrong of you, Alan, to tell Amanda that he was—! Honestly!'

‘I never said that.'

‘You did, Dad. You did you did you did.'

‘God – you certainly get your money's worth here, don't you? This burger's absolutely enormous. No Amanda, I never said that.'

‘You
did
! I so can't believe this! You said to me – listen, Amanda, you said, you can more or less write off your old Grandad because he's absolutely mental. That's what you said.'

‘Did you, Alan? Did you?'

‘And the piccalilli – rather a piquant touch, wouldn't you say? Well yes I
did
say that as a matter of fact, Susan. Yes I did. My very words. Because it's true, isn't it? He's completely bats, your father. Up in the air with the butterflies. No getting away from it.'

‘I can't
believe
you can say those things about my wonderful Daddy. He's worth a hundred of you, Alan. Even on a bad day.'

‘Mm – well maybe he was once, Susan, possibly one time that was indeed the case – but that was back in the days when he could, oh I don't know – remember his own
name
, wasn't it? When he wouldn't take the carnations out of a vase and drink down all the water.'

‘Jesus, Dad! Did he
really
do that, Grandad?'

‘Mm. And then he ate the carnations.'

‘
Right
, Alan – that's it. I've heard enough. Not another word. I'm going to—! Oh … oh look. Oh
look
, Alan – look who's here. Well well. Of all the … It's Black! Good heavens! It's Black! Yoo-hoo …! Over here, Black! Yes, that's right. Hello. How lovely to
see
you. Fancy just running into you like this …!'

‘Mm, yes, as you say. Hello, Alan. All right, are we? What a, um – lovely place. Had the very devil of a job finding it, I have to say. Um – that is I mean—'

‘Come and sit with us, Black. Move up Alan, can't you? That's right. Squidge up. Plenty of room. This is Amanda, Black. Our daughter. And you've caught us on a very special day. It's a very special day, isn't it Amanda?'

‘Whatever …'

‘Ha ha. Oh
listen
to her, Black. Honestly – young people!
Whatever
 …! Really. It's only her fifteenth
birthday
, isn't it? A
very
special day, I'd say. Say hello, Amanda. This is Black.'

‘Hello, Mr Black.'

‘No no, dear – just Black. It's a sort of a – nickname, isn't it Black?'

‘'Tis, yes. Sort of. Well Happy Birthday, I must say. And what a delightful place for a celebration. What's that you're eating, Alan? Looks perfectly gruesome.'

‘Not bad at all, as it happens. Want one?'

‘Pass, if I may. And that's beer you've got there, is it. Drop of wine, maybe …?'

‘Probably got some. Be American though, I should think.'

‘Don't think I've ever had it, American. Try it, I suppose … So then, young Amanda. Fifteen, hey? Quite a young lady. A very
beautiful
young lady, if I may say so. Oh God. I think I might just have to quickly go to the, um … expect it's a little hellhole in there, yes? Ah waitress – could I trouble you for the wine list, when you've a moment …?'

Amanda just sat there and stared at him. She had been going to go through the full routine: Excuse me, don't think I'm being, you know – like
rude
or anything … but just who
are
you, exactly? Yeh but look – it's obvious, isn't it? Got to be. Why else would he be here? But no – no way. I mean – look at him. Just look at him. Jesus. He's just like so fucking
ancient
. Like a hundred years old, or something. No. It can't be. But it's got to be. Shit. This is really like creeping me out.

‘Anyway, Amanda,' said Susan in what Amanda had once decided she thinks is, what? Her
sweet
voice? And it always comes out so really like lemony? ‘As you might have guessed, Black is my … well anyway, Black has consented to be my new husband. Isn't it exciting? Now Black – you might care to say something? Few words?'

‘Did you catch that, Alan? What the girl said? Don't
have
a wine list. Most extraordinary thing I've ever heard …'

‘I don't think that connoisseurs make up a good deal of their everyday passing trade you know, Blackie old man. Save your thirst for when you can plunder your own cellar, I would.'

‘Funny you should mention that actually – just been looking over the plans for that, the cellar at the new place. They can dig down really deep, apparently, and—'

‘Black. Few words? Don't you have something to say to Amanda …?'

‘Hm? Oh yes. Course. Happy Birthday, Amanda. No – said that, haven't I? Have I? Truth is, I've just got to slip off to the, um … Actually, you know, if you'll all forgive me, I think I'll just get a taxi home. Let's all meet up again when we're … you know. When it's not all so … well. There it is.'

Amanda registered the placing of an envelope before her, watched him not manage to bend down quite far enough for Susan to be able to plant her kiss, saw his spasm of nearly agony as Alan very playfully cuffed him in the midriff, and then she just simply sat there as he tottered away and out of the door, each of his steps a barely arrested and headlong plummet.

‘Well. That was a nice surprise, wasn't it Amanda? Sit up, Alan. There's ketchup on your chin. What's in the envelope?'

‘I just don't believe you two guys. Jesus I just don't.'

‘We're not “guys”, Amanda. We're your parents. What don't you
believe
 …? God – I thought we'd done all this. What's in the envelope?'

‘He's –
old
. He's got like funny little blobs of black hair. He walks like he's got two wooden legs. He's got a thing in his ear. He's …
old
. Dad – what is going down here?'

‘Don't be too hasty. He's all right, Blackie is. When you get to know him. No Cary Grant, admittedly, but … well, which one of us is?'

‘Exactly. Thank you, Alan. He has – many qualities. What's in the envelope, Amanda?'

‘Yeh yeh – like he's loaded. Right?'

‘He is not without resources. And he is a very kind and sweet man. Should we go now, Alan? This music, it's beginning to get
on my nerves. Amanda – why don't you open the envelope, yes?'

‘Bobby Vee, this one, pretty sure. Or is it Bobby Darin …?'

‘Oh puh-
leese
, Dad. Like we care! I want a pudding. Knickerbocker Glory.'

‘Oh
must
you, Amanda darling? Why don't we go home – there's plenty of ice cream in the freezer. And so on. Tell her, Alan.'

‘Rubber ball come bouncing back to me-e-e-e-eee …! Yes. Bobby Vee, I reckon. Might be Frankie Avalon.'

‘No because the Knickerbocker Glory, right, it comes in this really cool sundae glass? With like syrup and a cherry? Jesus – it is my
birthday
 …!'

‘Oh – all right then. Alan – get the waitress. Oh look – she's just gone right past you. What's
wrong
with you at all? So ineffectual … Amanda – open the envelope, why don't you? Hm?'

‘In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight … this is by somebody or other as well. Ah – hello. Yes. Could we have please a, um – Knickerbocker Glory … that right, Amanda? Yes – Knickerbocker Glory, and … anything for you, Susan? No? Sure? Coffee? Nothing? Really? No? Right then – just that, and I'll have the bill. No hang on – I'll have a coffee. Yes. Cappuccino. No – not cappuccino. Espresso. No not, actually – just black, ordinary black. Filter, is it? Yes. And a little milk. Thank you.'

‘Well done, Alan. Man of decision. Churchill could have done with you during the war. Black coffee, and a little milk. Right then. Very good. We'll all just sit here a little longer then, shall we, with all this ghastly bloody music and wait for Amanda to consume her own bodyweight in additives and
colourants. Oh Christ's sake open the fucking
envelope
, you annoying little child …!'

Yeh – and so I did. Wanted to since the second he put it in front of me, the freaky old man, course I did, but with Mum just banging on like that all the time I just thought oh fuck it, let her wait, silly cow. So it was this card, right, with a
pony
on it? And, like –
pink
? So yeh, I was thinking it's good he just happened to have it on him as he just happened to bump into us in the American diner he just happened to wander into (why do they all think I'm just like so
dumb
?). And inside – Jesus. Fifty quid. Fifty-quid note. Oh wow. And then – I go to lift it out, yeh – and what? Only another one underneath. Oh wow. Hundred quid. Never in my life on earth have I ever had a hundred quid, not unless you're talking about like last Christmas when I got it off Mum, but that was towards a new iPod, so it didn't really count.

‘There. You see, Amanda? What did I tell you? A kind and sweet man. Very. Now listen to me, Amanda … oh God, here's that dreadful pudding you ordered. Can you really, Amanda? Eat all that? It's absolutely enormous. Goodness me. Anyway – give the money to Daddy, he'll look after the money for you – won't you, Alan?'

‘
Tssss
 …! Jesus. Coffee's hot. Burned my bloody tongue …'

‘Well yes, Alan. Steam rising, you see. Hot. Well done. If you'd wanted
cold
coffee, you should have been more specific.'

‘Hey wait up – no way am I giving this to Dad! It's mine. It's my birthday present from the Ancient Mariner.'

‘Don't be so rude, Amanda. How can you be so rude? Black, he gives you an extremely generous birthday present, and all you can do is be rude about him. Tell her, Alan.'

‘Yes – what your mother said, Amanda. Should've put some milk in … absolutely scalding …'

‘Yeh well it's my money and I'm keeping it. The raspberry muck in here is just so to die for. Think it's raspberry. Red gunk, anyway.'

‘I didn't say you had to give it
away
, your money, did I Amanda? It's just – safe keeping. That's all.'

‘Well I know what I'm going to spend it on, so there's no point. Tattoo. Nose ring. Litre of Dewar's … joke. Joke. It's a joke Mum, yeh?'

‘Not, however, a funny one. Very poor taste, I should have said. Tell her, Alan.'

‘Mm. What your mother said, Amanda. Trouble is, whenever I go and burn my tongue, it takes just ages to … and I think my palate's caught it too. Wonder if I should ask for some ice …? What do you think? Help, would it? Ice cube? Oh I love
this
one – Jailhouse Rock. Now this
is
Elvis.'