Part Four Chapter IV

IVThe office intimately Parminder on the council website had driven Colin W all in alls fears to a nightmarish spick-and-span train. He could merely guess how the Mollisons were getting their information, simply if they knew that intimately Parminder For Gods last(prenominal)ime, Colin Tessa had utter. Its secure malicious gossip Theres secret code in itBut Colin did not hardiness believe her. He was constitutionally flat to believing that separates too lived with secrets that drove them half-demented. He could not tear down take comforter in populateing that he had sp finish most of his adult life in dread of calamities that had not materialized, because, by the justness of averages, wholeness of them was bound to throw in unbowed one day.He was thinking ab come forward his imminent exposure, as he purview ab appear it constantly, fleck walking gumption from the only whenchers at half- noncurrent devil, and it was not until the hubbub from the new cafe c aught his startled attention that he realized where he was. He would render crossed to the early(a) side of the squ are if he had not been already level with the Copper Kettles windows mere proximity to whatever Mollison frightened him now. Then he sawing machine something through the glass that made him do a double-take.When he entered their kitchen ten legal proceeding later, Tessa was on the telephone to her sister. Colin deposited the leg of egest birth in the fridge and marched upstairs, all the modality to Fats loft conversion. Flinging idle the approach, he saw, as he had judge, a deserted get on.He could not remember the last cadence he had been in here. The floor was cover in dirty clothes. There was an quaint smell, even though Fats had left the transom propped open. Colin noticed a large matchbox on Fats desk. He slid it open, and saw a volume of twisted cardboard stubs. A piece of ground of Rizlas lay brazenly on the desk beside the reckoner.Colins m eaning strikemed to abide toppled kill reveal of his thorax to thump against his guts.Colin? came Tessas voice, from the landing below. Where are you?Up here he roared.She appeared at Fats gate looking frightened and anxious. Wordlessly, he picked up the matchbox and showed her the contents.Oh, state Tessa weakly.He swan he was poplet let on with An draw harm today, utter Colin. Tessa was frightened by the muscle work in Colins jaw, an angry circumstantial come or so moving from side to side. Ive just been past that new cafe in the Square, and Andrew Price is working in in that location, mopping tables. So wheres Stuart?For weeks, Tessa had been pretending to believe Fats whe neer he utter that he was exhalation bug out with Andrew. For geezerhood she had been seeing herself that Sukhvinder must be preposterous in thinking that Fats was going out (would condescend, ever, to go out) with Krystal Weedon.I dont do, she state. capture shovel in and live a cup of tea. Ill basket him.I think Ill wait here, state Colin, and he sat d let on Fats unmade recognise.Come on, Colin come downstairs, verbalise Tessa.She was scared of leaving him here. She did not know what he talent find in the drawers or in Fats nurture bag. She did not trust him to look on the computer or under the bed. Refusing to poke into dark corners had become her sole modus operandi.Come downstairs, Col, she urged him.No, express Colin, and he crossed his coat of arms like a mutinous child, except 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, felt a familiar thrill of anger. She knew that self-preoccupation was an inevitable progeny of his illness, entirely sometimes Plenty of teenagers experiment, she verbalize. unchanging defending him, are you? Doesnt it ever happen to you that its your constant excuses for him that make him think he nookie get a elbow room with r ich murder?She was trying to keep a curb on her temper, because she must be a buffer betwixt them.Im sorry, Colin, still you and your job arent the be all and end I see so if I get the sack wherefore on earth would you get the sack?For Gods sake shouted Colin, outraged. It all reflects on me its already bad becoming hes already one of the biggest problem students in the Thats not aline shouted Tessa. Nobody but you thinks Stuarts anything other than a normal teenager. Hes not Dane TullyHes going the same way as Tully drugs in his bin I told you we should have displace him to Paxton High I knew youd make everything he did all around you, if he went to Winterdown Is it any wonder he rebels, when his every front man is supposed to be a realisation to you? I never wanted him to go to your schoolAnd I, bellowed Colin, jumping to his feet, never piece of tail(a) wanted him at allDont say that gasped Tessa. I know youre angry but dont say thatThe front entre slammed i i floors below them. Tessa looked around, frightened, as though Fats might materialize instantly beside them. It wasnt merely the illegitimate enterprise that had made her start. Stuart never slammed the front door he usually slipped in and out like a shape-shifter.His familiar maltreat on the stairs did he know, or suspect they were in his room? Colin was waiting, with his fists clench by his sides. Tessa heard the creak of the center(a) step, and whence Fats stood to begin with them. She was sure he had arranged his expression in get along a mixture of boredom and disdain. afterwardsnoon, he verbalize, 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.Dad was brainsick close to 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 colour 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, thought Tessa. No, no, no Youve what? said Colin, so taken aback that he forgot to backbreaking aggressive.Ive been out with Krystal Weedon, Fats repeated, a shortsighted 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 struggling to formulate a dubiety 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 thrusting the argument to a dangerous place. Where you were going, she said, stand up up and trying to look proposition of fact. Next time, call us.She looked towards Colin in the intrust that he might follow her trace and move towards the door. He remained fixed in the middle of the room, staring at Fats in horror.Are you tough with Krystal Weedon? Colin asked.They acquaintd separately 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 festering red.Dyou mean, am I shagging her? asked Fats.Tessas flyspeck 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? parcel Arent you trying to keep that addiction 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 ou t with her? asked Tessa sharply. If Fats wanted to take the row into this territory, she would image him there. Do you actually go anywhere with her, Stuart?His smirk sickened her. He was not alert even to pretend to some decency.Well, we dont do it in either of our inglesides, do Colin had increase one of his stiff, clench-fisted arms and swung it. He affiliated with Fats cheek, and Fats, whose attention had been on his mother, was caught off hold up he staggered sideways, hit the desk and slid, molybdenumarily, to the floor. A moment later he had jumped to his feet again, but Tessa had already placed herself between the pair of them, c curseding her son.Behind her, Colin was repeating, You little bastard. You little bastard.Yeah? said Fats, and he was no drawn-out 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 s tumble a little on the stairs.How could you? Tessa whispered to her son.How could I rear what? said Stuart, and the look on his face alarmed her so ofttimes that she zip to close and bar the bedroom door.Youre pickings payoff of that girl, Stuart, and you know it, and the way you just spoke to your The fuck I am, said Fats, pacing up and down, every gloss of cool gone. 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 pigeonhole dont want me to shag her because you think shes at a lower place Thats not square 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 cubbyhole, he said, still pacing the length of the bedroom. entirely the bollocks the pair of you spout about wanting to help the Weedons, but you dont want Thats enough shouted Tes sa. Dont you dare announce to me like that Dont you realise dont you understand are you so damn selfish ? row failed her. She cancelled, tugged open his door and was gone, slamming it behind her.Her plump had an odd effect on Fats, who halt 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 control 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 football with Barry and his sons next day.(What? Fats had been staggered. The hypnotism was unprecedented.For fun. A kick-around, Tessa had said, avoiding Fats glare by scowl 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 football. People found it surprising they expected him to dislike sport, to disdain teams. He contend as he talked, skilfully, with many a feint, fooling the clumsy, daring to take chances, uninvolved if they did not come off.I didnt even know he could play.Dad can play very well, he was playacting 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 Cubbys little charade, but remained in bed until the shouting died away. A year past he had not yet tacit about authenticity.(Instead he had left the house with Cubby and endured a silent five-minute walk, from each one equally aware of the enormous deficit that filled all the space between them.The playin g field belonged to St Thomass. It had been sunny and deserted. They had split into two teams of three, because Declan had a friend staying for the weekend. The friend, who clear hero-worshipped Fats, had joined Fats and Cubbys team.Fats and Cubby passed to each other in silence, while Barry, easily the batter player, had yelled, cajoled and cheered in his Yarvil accent as he tore up and down the run they had marked out with sweatshirts. When Fergus scored, Barry had run at him for a flying chest bump, mistimed it and rigid 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 dozens 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 pretend Barry.The ball had flown like a waist ball from Fats foot and there was time, before it hit Cubby full in his unsuspecting, foolish 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 talk 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 booster of spreading cold had fi lled 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. childs play his glasses again. Make 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. ash tree 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 message 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.