Part Four Chapter IV

IVThe post whatsoeverwhat Parminder on the council website had driven Colin W alones fears to a nightmarish saucy level. He could yet guess how the Mollisons were frig aroundting their information, but if they knew that ab come on on Parminder For Gods sake, Colin Tessa had verbalise. Its just malicious gab Theres nonhing in itBut Colin did non d atomic number 18 conceptualise her. He was constitutionally prone to believing that otherwises too lived with secrets that drove them half-demented. He could non even take comfort in fill come to the foreing that he had spent most of his adult life in dread of calamities that had not materialized, because, by the law of averages, one of them was bound to come true one day.He was thinking ab pop his imminent exposure, as he position ab appear it regularly, while walking back from the butchers at half-past deuce, and it was not until the hubbub from the new cafe caught his startled attention that he realized where he was. He would get down crossed to the other side of the Square if he had not been already level with the Copper Kettles windows mere proximity to any Mollison stir him now. Then he axiom something through the glass that made him do a double-take.When he entered their kitchen ten minutes later, Tessa was on the telephone to her sister. Colin deposited the level of lamb in the fridge and marched upstairs, all the way to Fats loft conversion. Flinging pay the entre, he saw, as he had expected, a deserted board.He could not remember the last time he had been in here. The floor was cover in dirty clothes. There was an odd smell, even though Fats had leftfield over(p) the skylight propped open. Colin noticed a large matchbox on Fats desk. He slid it open, and saw a mass of twisted cardboard stubs. A packet of Rizlas define brazenly on the desk beside the computer.Colins heart empathizemed to demand toppled down emerge of his toilet table to thump against his guts.Colin? came Tessas voice, from the landing below. Where are you?Up here he roared.She appeared at Fats door bearinging panicky and anxious. Wordlessly, he picked up the matchbox and showed her the contents.Oh, express Tessa weakly.He express he was waiver erupt with Andrew Price today, said Colin. Tessa was frightened by the muscle working in Colins jaw, an angry picayune damp moving from side to side. Ive just been past that new cafe in the Square, and Andrew Price is working in there, mopping tables. So wheres Stuart?For weeks, Tessa had been pretending to believe Fats whenever he said that he was going out with Andrew. For days she had been say herself that Sukhvinder essendial be mistaken in thinking that Fats was going out (would condescend, ever, to go out) with Krystal Weedon.I dont slam, she said. Come down and overhear a shape of tea. Ill ring him.I think Ill wait here, said Colin, and he sit down on Fats unmade bed.Come on, Colin come downstairs, said Tessa.She was scared of leaving him here. She did not know what he might find in the drawers or in Fats give lessons bag. She did not want him to look on the computer or under the bed. Refusing to probe dark corners had break down her sole modus operandi.Come downstairs, Col, she urged him.No, said Colin, and he crossed his weaponry alike(p) a mutinous child, but with that muscle working in his jaw. Drugs in his bin. The son of the deputy headmaster.Tessa, who had sat down on Fats computer chair, snarl a familiar thrill of anger. She knew that self-preoccupation was an inevitable consequence of his illness, but sometimes Plenty of teenagers experiment, she said.Still defending him, are you? Doesnt it ever occur to you that its your constant excuses for him that make him think he can get away with black murder?She was nerve-racking to keep a curb on her temper, because she must be a buffer between them.Im sorry, Colin, but you and your job arent the be all and end I check so if I get the sack Why on earth would you get the sack?For Gods sake yelled Colin, outraged. It all reflects on me its already bad sufficient hes already one of the biggest problem students in the Thats not true shouted Tessa. nada but you thinks Stuarts anything other than a normal teenager. Hes not Dane TullyHes going the akin way as Tully drugs in his bin I told you we should have sent him to Paxton High I knew youd make everything he did all about you, if he went to Winterdown Is it any wonder he rebels, when his every movement is supposed to be a credit to you? I never valued him to go to your schoolAnd I, bellowed Colin, jumping to his feet, never bloody wanted him at allDont say that gasped Tessa. I know youre angry but dont say thatThe front door slammed two floors below them. Tessa looked around, frightened, as though Fats might materialize immediately beside them. It wasnt merely the noise that had made her start. Stuart never slammed the front door he usually slipped in and out lik e a shape-shifter.His familiar trample on the stairs did he know, or suspect they were in his agency? Colin was waiting, with his fists clenched by his sides. Tessa heard the creak of the halfway step, and then Fats stood earlier them. She was sure he had arranged his expression in advance a mixture of boredom and disdain.Afternoon, he said, looking from his mother to his rigid, tense father. He had all the self-possession that Colin had never had. This is a surprise.Desperate, Tessa tried to show him the way. pappa was worried about where you are, she said, with a plea in her voice. You said you were going to be with Arf today, but Dad saw Yeah, change of plan, said Fats.He glanced towards the place where the matchbox had been.So, do you want to tell us where youve been? asked Colin. There were face cloth patches around his mouth.Yeah, if you like, said Fats, and he waited.Stu, said Tessa, half whisper, half groan.Ive been out with Krystal Weedon, said Fats.Oh God, no, opinio n Tessa. No, no, no Youve what? said Colin, so taken aback that he forgot to sound aggressive.Ive been out with Krystal Weedon, Fats repeated, a junior-grade more loudly.And since when, said Colin, after an infinitesimal pause, has she been a friend of yours?A while, said Fats.Tessa could see Colin struggle to formulate a question too grotesque to utter.You should have told us, Stu, she said.Told you what? he said.She was frightened that he was going to push the argument to a dangerous place. Where you were going, she said, standing up and trying to look matter of fact. side by side(p) time, call us.She looked towards Colin in the hope that he might follow her go by and move towards the door. He remained fixed in the middle of the room, staring at Fats in horror.Are you involved with Krystal Weedon? Colin asked.They faced each other, Colin taller by a few inches, but Fats holding all the power.Involved? Fats repeated. What dyou mean, involved?You know what I mean said Colin, his face growing red.Dyou mean, am I shagging her? asked Fats.Tessas little cry of Stu was drowned by Colin shouting, How bloody dare youFats merely looked at Colin, smirking. Everything about him was a taunt and a challenge.What? said Fats.Are you - Colin was struggling to find the words, growing redder all the time, - are you sleeping with Krystal Weedon?It wouldnt be a problem if I was, would it? Fats asked, and he glanced at his mother as he said it. Youre all for helping Krystal, arent you?Helping Arent you trying to keep that dependency clinic open so you can help Krystals family?Whats that got to do ?I cant see what the problem is with me going out with her.And are you going out with her? asked Tessa sharply. If Fats wanted to take the row into this territory, she would meet him there. Do you actually go anywhere with her, Stuart?His smirk sickened her. He was not prepared even to pretend to some decency.Well, we dont do it in either of our houses, do Colin had raised one o f his stiff, clench-fisted arms and swung it. He connected with Fats cheek, and Fats, whose attention had been on his mother, was caught off guard he staggered sideways, hit the desk and slid, momentarily, to the floor. A moment later he had jumped to his feet again, but Tessa had already placed herself between the yoke of them, facing her son.Behind her, Colin was repeating, You little bastard. You little bastard.Yeah? said Fats, and he was no longer smirking. Id rather be a little bastard than be you, you arseholeNo shouted Tessa. Colin, get out. Get outHorrified, furious and shaken, Colin lingered for a moment, then marched from the room they heard him stumble a little on the stairs.How could you? Tessa whispered to her son.How could I couple what? said Stuart, and the look on his face alarmed her so much that she hurried to close and bar the bedroom door.Youre victorious improvement of that girl, Stuart, and you know it, and the way you just spoke to your The fuck I am, sai d Fats, pacing up and down, every semblance of cool at peace(p). The fuck Im taking advantage of her. She knows exactly what she wants just because she lives in the fucking Fields, it doesnt the truth is, you and cubby dont want me to shag her because you think shes on a lower floor Thats not true said Tessa, even though it was, and for all her concern about Krystal, she would still have been glad to know that Fats had sense enough to wear a condom.Youre fucking hypocrites, you and snug, he said, still pacing the length of the bedroom. All the bollocks the pair of you spout about wanting to help the Weedons, but you dont want Thats enough shouted Tessa. Dont you dare speak to me like that Dont you realise dont you understand are you so damn selfish ?Words failed her. She turned, tugged open his door and was gone, slamming it behindhand her.Her exit had an odd effect on Fats, who stopped pacing and stared at the closed door for several seconds. Then he searched his pockets, drew out a cigarette and lit it, not bothering to blow the smoke out of the skylight. Round and round his room he walked, and he had no reserve of his own thoughts jerky, unedited images filled his brain, sweeping past on a tide of fury.He remembered the Friday evening, nearly a year previously, when Tessa had come up here to his bedroom to tell him that his father wanted to take him out to play introduction hunk with Barry and his sons next day.(What? Fats had been staggered. The suggestion was unprecedented.For fun. A kick-around, Tessa had said, avoiding Fats glare by scowling down at the clothes littering the floor.Why?Because Dad thought it might be nice, said Tessa, bending to pick up a school shirt. Declan wants a practice, or something. Hes got a match.Fats was quite good at foot testicle. People make it surprising they expected him to dislike sport, to disdain teams. He played as he talked, skilfully, with many a feint, fooling the clumsy, doughty to take chances, unco ncerned if they did not come off.I didnt even know he could play.Dad can play very well, he was contend twice a week when we met, said Tessa, riled. Ten oclock tomorrow morning, all right? Ill wash your tracksuit bottoms.)Fats sucked on his cigarette, remembering against his will. Why had he gone along with it? Today, he would have simply refused to participate in snugs little charade, but remained in bed until the shouting died away. A year ago he had not yet understood about authenticity.(Instead he had left the house with Cubby and endured a silent five-minute walk, each equally sensitive of the enormous shortfall that filled all the space between them.The compete field belonged to St Thomass. It had been sunny and deserted. They had divided into two teams of three, because Declan had a friend staying for the weekend. The friend, who all the way hero-worshipped Fats, had joined Fats and Cubbys team.Fats and Cubby passed to each other in silence, while Barry, tardily the wo rst player, had yelled, cajoled and cheered in his Yarvil accent as he tore up and down the pitch they had marked out with sweatshirts. When Fergus scored, Barry had run at him for a flying chest bump, mistimed it and smashed Fergus on the jaw with the top of his head. The two of them had fallen to the ground, Fergus groaning in pain and laughing, while Barry sat apologizing through his roars of mirth. Fats had found himself grinning, then heard Cubbys awkward, booming laugh and turned away, scowling.And then had come that moment, that cringeworthy, pitiful moment, with the scores equal and nearly time to go, when Fats had successfully wrested the ball from Fergus, and Cubby had shouted, Come on, Stu, ladLad. Cubby had never said lad in his life. It sounded pitiful, hollow and unnatural. He was trying to be like Barry imitating Barrys easy, unself-conscious encouragement of his sons trying to impress Barry.The ball had flown like a cannon ball from Fats foot and there was time, befo re it hit Cubby full in his unsuspecting, goosey face, before his glasses cracked, and a single drop of blood bloomed beneath his eye, to realize his own intent to know that he had hoped to hit Cubby, and that the ball had been dispatched for retribution.)They had never played football again. The doomed little experiment in father-son togetherness had been shelved, like a dozen before it.And I never wanted him at allHe was sure he had heard it. Cubby must have been talking about him. They had been in his room. Who else could Cubby have been talking about?Like I give a shit, thought Fats. It was what hed always suspected. He did not know why this sensation of ranch cold had filled his chest.Fats pulled the computer chair back into position, from the place where it had been knocked when Cubby had hit him. The authentic reaction would have been to shove his mother out of the way and punch Cubby in the face. Crack his glasses again. contain him bleed. Fats was disgusted with himself that he had not done it.But there were other ways. He had overheard things for years. He knew much more about his fathers ludicrous fears than they thought.Fats fingers were clumsier than usual. change spilt onto the keyboard from the cigarette in his mouth as he brought up the Parish Council website. Weeks previously, he had looked up SQL injections and found the line of code that Andrew had refused to share. After studying the council marrow board for a few minutes, he logged himself in, without difficulty, as Betty Rossiter, changed her username to The_Ghost_of_Barry_Fairbrother, and began to type.