Least Said (14 page)

They
stood
before
us,
two
fully
grown
men
and
a
small
boy,
all
wearing
a
similar
guilty
expression
on
their
faces.

I
gave
in
first
–
I
couldn’t
help
it.
Looking
at
the
state
of
them
I
just
burst
out
laughing
and
pointed
out,
‘It
is
nearly
the
end
of
term,
and
Will
does
have
another
pair.’
I
grinned
as
I
added,
‘I’m
assuming
the
same
can
be
said
for
you
two,
because
if
those
are
the
only
suit
trousers
you
have,
you’re
going
to
be
in
an
awful
lot
of
trouble.’

Then
we
all
started
laughing
and
couldn’t
stop.
Will
threw
himself
at
me,
mud
and
all,
joyous
because
I
obviously
wasn’t
furious
at
the
state
of
him.
He
found
it
even
funnier
when
they
were
all
instructed
to
sit
at
the
table
right
away
in
their
boxer
shorts
and
eat
dinner
before
it
was
all
ruined.

‘That
was
funny,
wasn’t
it,
Auntie
Tina?’
Will
chortled,
after
he
had
been
bathed,
tucked
up
in
bed
and
treated
to
a
bedtime
story
read
by
his
favourite
auntie
while
I
busied
myself
taking
folded
clothes
from
his
chest
of
drawers,
ready
for
school
in
the
morning.

‘It
was
the
funniest
thing
I’ve
ever
seen,’
she
agreed.

‘I
love
the
ball,’
he
told
her.
‘Thank
you
very
much
for
thinking
of
me.’

‘You’re
very
welcome,’
she
told
him,
still
smiling.
‘We’ve
heard
how
well
you’ve
been
playing
football
at
school
and
thought
you
deserved
it.
Uncle
Calum
knows
lots
of
footballers
and
that’s
how
he
managed
to
get
you
that
special
ball.’

I
smiled
as
well,
remembering
that
Calum
didn’t
only
handle
novels
but
autobiographies
too,
often
by
famous
footballers.

‘Do
you
think
if
I
was
a
very
good
boy,’
Will
began
with
a
winning
look
in
Tina’s
direction,
‘that
Uncle
Calum
could
get
me
a
rugby
ball
signed
by
the
Leicester
Tigers?
We’ve
just
started
learning
rugby
at
school
and
I’m
even
better
at
rugby
than
I
am
at
football.’

I
threw
a
startled
glance
in
Tina’s
direction
and
found
her
staring
right
back
at
me.
Suddenly
neither
one
of
us
was
smiling.

Chapter
Four

‘Most
boys
like
rugby
as
well
as
football.
It
doesn’t
mean
a
thing,
Wendy,’
Tina
whispered,
after
we
had
both
kissed
Will
goodnight
and
closed
his
bedroom
door
behind
us.

‘Of
course
it
does,’
I
hissed,
with
a
quick
glance
over
the
banister
to
check
that
neither
of
the
men
was
standing
within
earshot.
‘Rugby
is
obviously
in
his
genes
–
and
we
both
know
why.’

‘Nonsense,’
she
murmured,
‘lots
of
kids
turn
out
to
be
sporty
–
despite
coming
from
non-sporting
parents.’

‘Oh
come
on,
you
don’t
believe
that
any
more
than
I
do,’
I
insisted,
still
keeping
my
tone
low.

‘What
are
you
two
whispering
about?’

Calum’s
voice,
coming
so
suddenly
from
close
behind
us,
saw
us
both
leap
what
felt
like
a
couple
of
feet
in
the
air.
We
spun
round
to
face
him,
both
of
us
the
very
picture
of
guilt.
I’d
forgotten
he’d
come
up
to
take
a
shower
earlier
and
clearly
Tina
had
forgotten,
too.
We
stood
like
a
pair
of
startled
cats
caught
in
the
headlights
of
a
car.

‘Urm,’
Tina
began
and
then
stopped,
because
clearly
she
had
no
idea
what
to
say.

‘Shopping...,’
I
began.

‘Yes,
shopping,’
she
echoed
and
looked
at
me
helplessly.

‘Tomorrow,’
I
added.

Calum
shook
his
head,
‘Come
on
then,
tell
me
what’s
so
important
it
won’t
wait?’

‘Trousers,’
I
managed.

‘Yes,’
Tina
threw
me
a
grateful
glance,
‘you
need
some
new
trousers
quickly,
Calum,
because
Jon’s
clearly
won’t
do.
He’s
shorter
than
you
and
you’ll
look
ridiculous.
We’ll
pop
out
in
the
morning
and
pick
you
up
a
pair
that
will
do
until
we
get
home.’

‘I’ll
only
be
in
the
car
driving
home,’
Calum
pointed
out
mildly,
‘so
it
hardly
matters
if
my
trousers
will
be
flying
at
half
mast,
does
it?’

‘I
thought
you
said
you
were
seeing
a
new
client,’
Tina
prompted,
‘tomorrow.
Some
friend
of
Bette’s
wasn’t
it?’
I
could
tell
she’d
only
just
recalled
the
fact
herself
but
was
thankful
that
she
had.

‘Damn
and
blast
it,’
he
swore,
‘you’re
right
–
but
I’m
seeing
her
at
ten
in
the
morning.’

‘We
can
be
at
the
shops
by
nine
and
back
here
by
nine-thirty,’
I
insisted,
‘can’t
we,
Tina?’

‘Oh,
absolutely,’
she
agreed
airily.

Luckily,
Calum
trying
on
a
pair
of
Jon’s
trousers
proved
how
right
we
were,
because
he
did
look
totally
ridiculous
with
the
hems
hanging
well
above
his
shoes.
He
presented
such
a
picture
that
we
were
all
absolutely
helpless
with
laughter,
including
Calum.

Tina
did
try
her
damndest
to
stop
me
from
making
assumptions
later
in
the
evening,
when
we
escaped
to
the
kitchen
to
make
tea
and
closed
the
door
firmly
behind
us.

‘Stop
making
a
drama
out
of
what
is
hardly
a
crisis,’
she
advised,
with
a
shake
of
her
head,
‘because
by
next
week
it
will
be
tennis
Will
is
interested
in.
He’s
six
years
old
for
God’s
sake,
and
will
change
his
mind
a
million
times
before
he
even
reaches
his
teens.’

‘I
wish
you
were
living
back
in
Brankstone,’
I
told
her,
with
a
grimace,
‘because
if
he
starts
imagining
he’s
going
to
be
another
Jonny
Wilkinson
I’m
going
to
need
you
to
hold
my
hand
daily
and
reassure
me.’

‘It
means
nothing,
Wendy,’
Tina
said
firmly.

‘Easy
for
you
to
say,
because
it’s
clear
to
see
who
Leanne’s
father
is,
she’s
the
absolute
spit
of
Calum.’

‘And
Will
is
the
spit
of
Jon.
Don’t
you
see
the
way
every
action
of
his
mirrors
one
of
Jon’s?’

‘I
do,’
I
agreed,
‘but
those
things
are
learned,
it
doesn’t
account
for
the
fact
that
his
eye
colour,
hair
colour
and
height
are
all
wrong.
Physically
he
has
very
little
in
common
with
Jon,
you
can’t
deny
that.
I
know
you’re
going
to
say
that
lots
of
kids
don’t
take
after
one
or
the
other
of
their
parents
and,
if
there
was
no
doubt
of
his
parentage,
I
promise
you
I
really
wouldn’t
be
troubled
at
all.
As
it
is,
every
single
thing
seems
to
point
to
Will
having
been
conceived
from
my
night
with
the
bloody
Adonis
who
-
I
don’t
have
to
remind
you
-
suddenly
seems
to
be
popping
up
everywhere
I
look.’