The Savages (15 page)

‘It smells good.' Jack held his palm underneath the cupcake as it began to disintegrate, and quickly grabbed a nibble. ‘And it tastes …
magnificent
! Isn't anyone else going to try one?'

‘Count me in,' said Angelica, who was keen to support her daughter. Setting Katya on the floor, she took a plate and helped herself. ‘How about you, Ivan?'

The boy shook his head and looked to his father. Titus turned his attention to the table.

‘Anything my daughter has made is good enough for me,' he said, with a hint of a sigh.

Sasha watched her parents eating, and braced herself for the worst. Both of them were clearly struggling, but putting on polite faces for the sake of their visitor. Titus was the first to swallow, just as the kettle boiled.

‘Tea,' he croaked. ‘I think we need a cup of tea.'

‘Do you have any herbal?' Jack turned to Sasha. ‘I don't do caffeine.'

Sasha's face fell. It was something she just hadn't considered.

‘Actually, we do,' said Angelica, much to the surprise of her husband. ‘I thought you may prefer an alternative, so I bought some camomile this morning. It's in the cupboard above the kettle.'

‘I can get that,' offered Ivan, as Titus simply stood and stared at his wife.

Sasha caught her eye and mouthed a ‘thank you'.

It was too good an opportunity for the boy to resist. Despite the incident in the bathroom, Ivan Savage had just one more practical joke to play. It wasn't planned. This was a spur of the moment idea, driven less by a need to amuse and more by a chance to get even.

As his parents found their way into a conversation with Jack, asking him about the sixth form compared to the rest of the school, Ivan dropped three normal tea bags into the pot, filled it with water from the kettle, and then sought out the box his mother had bought. He found it straight away, covered in floral designs. Extracting a bag as if it was something that had accidently been dropped into the loo, he set about preparing Jack's cup of herbal tea. Then, glancing over his shoulder to be sure nobody was watching, he reached up into the cupboard once again.

The chicken stock cubes were kept on the shelf above the tea bags. Ivan had no intention of dissolving a whole one in the camomile. He didn't want to make it undrinkable, just different. With this in mind, he crumbled off a corner into the cup, followed by another corner for good measure. The water darkened straight away, but remained translucent. Leaving the camomile bag to infuse in the stock a little longer, Ivan transferred the teapot to the table, where his father was clearly itching to take Jack to task about his dietary habits.

‘Have you had supper?' he enquired. ‘I'm just wondering whether a young man like you will need a snack to see you through the evening. I imagine you need to be careful about things like that.'

Jack looked a little confused.

‘I'm not sure I follow you, Mr Savage.'

‘Your blood sugar levels,' he said simply. ‘It's a concern, no?'

‘Dad.' Sasha glared at her father. ‘Jack's is in great shape. We'll be sure to eat, OK?'

Aware that his wife was also frowning at him, Titus shrugged and carefully turned what was left of his cupcake in one hand. Everything from the bland taste to the dry texture had made him want to spit it out, but that would've just been rude. Instead, he poured the tea for everyone, while Ivan returned to the table and set the cup of camomile before their guest.

‘Lovely,' said Jack, and inhaled the steam. ‘You can just smell how therapeutic this tea can be.'

Despite sitting across the table from him, Titus's keen sense of smell immediately picked up on the fact that it contained poultry of some form. He glanced at Ivan, who was standing behind Jack looking very pleased with himself. Needling Sasha's boyfriend about his beliefs was one thing, thought Titus, but this was just disrespectful. Even so, there was nothing he could do when Jack picked up the cup with both hands and took a tentative sip. He seemed to hold it on his tongue for a moment, before closing his eyes and tipping his head back by a degree.

‘Just what I needed!' he said. ‘Do you know what? I haven't tasted tea this good in a
decade
.'

Titus leaned forward on his elbows.

‘So, when did you become a vegetarian?'

‘Oh, ten years ago,' Jack told him, cradling the cup with his palms. ‘It was the only way forward for me. I just couldn't live with the thought that another living thing had to perish in my name,' he explained, before taking another long sip of the herbal broth. ‘People say it doesn't taste as good, but that's a small sacrifice.'

‘What about fruit and vegetables?' asked Titus. ‘They have feelings.'

‘Not again, Dad.'

‘Science is leaning that way,' he insisted, wishing his daughter would just let him have this moment. ‘Look at the Venus Fly Trap. How do you think it knows when prey has landed in its clutches? And you might not be able to hear a banana scream, but that's what happens when you peel one. You're literally stripping the skin from its body. How can that be humane? It's torture!'

Jack smiled, but clearly didn't feel it was worth entering into an argument. Instead, much to Ivan's delight, he drained the cup before suggesting to Sasha that they should be going.

‘We don't want to be late.'

‘What do you have planned?' asked Angelica.

Jack looked across at Sasha.

‘I thought you might like to go to a talk,' he said. ‘At the university. It's open to the public.'

‘The university.' Angelica couldn't help but look impressed. ‘That beats the back seats at the cinema.'

‘What is the talk about?' asked Titus.

‘It's called “Beyond Vegetarianism”,' said Jack, which prompted Sasha to drop her gaze to the floor. ‘Why don't you join us?'

Titus took a second to realise that Jack was inviting him.

‘I don't think Sasha would appreciate my presence,' he said eventually, and then waited for her to look up. ‘But I look forward to hearing all about it.'

The request was met by an uncomfortable silence. Ivan was quick to pick up on it, however. Leaning in beside Jack, he collected his empty cup and said: ‘More tea?'

Jack looked back at his girlfriend's kid brother. For someone who had crossed him at school, the boy had been surprisingly forgiving.

‘We just don't have the time,' he told him, and toyed with the cup in front of him. ‘But that was truly divine.'

Amanda Dias didn't look like an impressive speaker. A first-year undergraduate, she was slight in build, with cropped, boyish hair and delicate features arranged around an apparently shy, skewed smile. What silenced her audience was her militant position on the subject of ethical eating, especially those who did not share her views.

‘The hunters,' she said at one point, ‘should become the hunted.'

Amanda stood with her feet pointed inwards and the microphone clutched in both hands. She turned to address her audience as she spoke, leaving breathy silences between each statement she made.

‘Wow,' whispered Jack, who had chosen a middle row alongside Sasha. There were in the university's smaller auditorium, with tables arranged at the flanks offering everything from pamphlets to specialised snacks. ‘This is intense.'

Sasha had spent most of the time noting Amanda's sense of style. Everything she wore was made from cruelty-free material such as hemp and waxed cotton, as she had mentioned at the beginning as if to establish her credentials. Her navy-blue dress with matching cream cuffs and collar made her look like someone who might've been accused of witchcraft centuries earlier and burned at the stake. This martyr look worked well, thought Sasha, while the bold nature of her talk was clearly making an impression. Sasha struggled to get comfortable on the wooden bench. The girl was too good to be true. Off stage, she decided, Amanda Dias was probably one of those people who jealously guarded her food in the fridge.

‘How much of this stuff do you think she got off the internet?' she asked Jack, leaning across so as not to be overheard. ‘It's her thesis, no?'

Jack shot Sasha a look that told her he didn't share her outlook.

‘We live among murderers,' Amanda continued. ‘We share our lives with them. They walk among us. Is this the mark of a civilised society? We must confront the flesh-eaters. Change their way of life, for the sake of our world … or stop them from causing further slaughter.'

Amanda was the third person to take to the stage that evening. Sasha had listened closely to the two speakers before her. One was from the university's Animal Rights society, while the other had worked in a hospital canteen until his conversion to veganism, refusal to handle meat products, and subsequent sacking. Until Amanda took the microphone, Sasha had been quietly impressed. It all seemed so grown up, and far removed from sitting on the edge of the skate ramp at school. These were mature individuals with passionate, heartfelt beliefs. This may have been the last place Sasha expected to find herself, but in a way it was beginning to feel like a new kind of home. Having gone without meat for several days, it seemed to her like she had at least earned the credentials to sit here and listen. The Animal Rights speaker made some interesting points, and she admired the stand made by the chef, even if it was pretty clear some drinking issues had contributed to his dismissal. In Sasha's opinion, it was only this militant chick who had failed to strike a chord.

‘Amanda,' said one young man in the front row, when she invited questions from the audience. ‘Are you saying it's OK to
kill
meat eaters?'

Amanda smiled sweetly, as if she'd just been asked where her dress came from.

‘I am simply sharing my thoughts, and hoping to … connect, influence, inform and
engage
.'

Jack turned and nodded his approval to Sasha. She waited for him to face the stage once more before shaking her head. It was a shame this girl had been invited to speak. The evening didn't need this pretentious nonsense, from someone who looked incapable of killing an unwanted call let alone a human being. Worst of all, it appeared as if Jack was hanging on every word she uttered.

‘There'll be a few minutes before the next talk,' whispered Sasha, when Amanda finally finished to a flutter of applause. ‘I'll get us something to eat.'

‘You do that,' said Jack, who rose to his feet at the same time as Sasha. ‘Just make mine vegan.'

‘Really?' Sasha glanced across at the podium, unsure if he had just said that very loudly so somebody else could hear him. Even Jack couldn't resist a quick look, but Amanda was busy collecting her papers from the lectern.

‘This is it for me,' he said, when Sasha returned her attention to him. ‘There's no going back now. After listening to Amanda, it seems to me we need to stand up for what we believe in.'

Sasha furrowed her brow. From experience, he just didn't look the sort.

‘Jack, you'd never take a life.'

He seemed to think about this for a moment, before looking a little embarrassed.

‘I tell you what I could murder, though,' he said, gesturing at a table of food and drink. ‘A slice of that chestnut bake.'

Leaving Jack to clamber over seats to the floor, Sasha made her way towards the end of the row. Most people looked a little older than her, but Sasha didn't feel intimidated. Nor was she starving hungry, as she had been after her first few days of vegetarian eating. She was still surprised by how understanding her mother had been. Rather than simply serve up a supper minus the meat product, she had created alternatives just for Sasha. The chard and cheddar bake was nice, even if it had been the first time that Angelica attempted such a creation. It had even proven to be quite filling, which obliged them both to seek out a hidden space at the back of the freezer to keep what was left for another day.

Many people in the auditorium had already headed for the refreshment tables, where a small queue was forming. Sasha lined up with her arms folded and looked to her feet. The guy in front of her was wearing scuffed leather shoes, she noticed, which seemed a bit rebellious in this kind of company. She was just mulling over what Amanda Dias would have to say about that when she noticed them rotate to one side a little. She looked up, to find the young man was grinning at her.

‘Is it wrong to be disappointed knowing that there's no bacon butty waiting for me at the front of this line?'

Sasha blinked in surprise, laughed and then touched her fingertips to her lips. The guy wasn't much older than her. He was as scruffy as his shoes, wearing a hoodie, T-shirt and jeans as well as several days of stubble on a square-set face.

‘It would be wrong,' she said eventually, keeping her voice low. ‘But I know just what you mean. I feel I'm queuing up to be disappointed here.'

The guy's smile broadened.

‘That speaker,' he said, and nodded towards the stage. ‘Is she for real?'

‘Someone thinks so,' replied Sasha under her breath. ‘Between you and me, halfway through I wished I had a bag of Frazzles I could quietly flick at her.'

The guy held her gaze, still beaming broadly.

‘I'm Ralph,' he said, and shook her hand. ‘It's been eight weeks since I last ate meat, and the whole bacon thing is driving me to distraction.'

‘The crack cocaine of the meat industry,' agreed Sasha. ‘What turned you?'

‘It felt like something I wanted to do,' he said simply. ‘But I know what you mean about the whole food fascism thing. Every time I hear someone like Amanda preach that meat is murder I want to go out and buy a burger. I just don't understand why being vegetarian makes you any better than anyone else. What's with the big statements? It's just a choice, in a free society. I think so long as you know where your food's coming from, and you're happy with that, then you should be able to live your life without being judged. How about you?'