Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,162

how far we were from all those oddly named places.

“Forties, Cromarty, Forth, Tyne, Dogger, Northeast storm ten to violent storm eleven. Very rough. Rain. Poor. Fisher, German Bight, Humber, Northeast ten to violent storm eleven …”

Without thinking, I turned off the radio.

“Humber,” Mabel repeated. “Ooh, heck. We’re right near the bleeming Humber. Violent storm eleven,” she said, staring out the window at the flapping, billowing tent. “I don’t think that sounds very promising.”

THE RAIN BEGAN a little after eight o’clock. When the first drops streaked the windows, my mother announced that it was just a shower, the sort we often got at this time of year. Even when it started to pour, the rain driven by the raging wind to batter the windows and drum audibly against the walls, she continued to prance about the house, issuing orders to my father, making encouraging comments to Mabel, and occasionally glowering at me. In fact, the harder the rain fell, the higher her energy seemed to rise, so that she ran from room to room, her voice shrill, her eyes huge and wild. While the storm outside was a shrieking, howling monster, we had a hurricane indoors.

“I should have seen this coming,” Mabel said. She was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking. It had been raining for well over an hour. “Should have known it would end in disaster. I mean, let’s face it, anything that our Evelyn’s involved in usually does. I know she can’t control the weather, but a wedding, in a tent, in her bleeming back garden—I must have been bloody mad.” She crushed the butt of her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray and took another one out of the packet. “And I’m ever so worried about Frank and Ted. They were supposed to be back hours ago.”

As Mabel spoke, a huge crack sounded from just beyond the window. We both looked out, but it was almost dark now and all we could see was our own frowning reflections in the glass. We heard something outside thrashing about.

“It’s the tent,” I said. “One of the stakes must have come out.”

We ran into the hallway and found my father sitting, head in hands, on the stairs. “Come on, Mike,” Mabel said, pulling him up by the arm. “No time for moping, we’ve got to get outside.”

“What’s wrong?” It was my mother. She’d changed into her wedding outfit again. This time, though, it was finished and she’d completed the ensemble with a pair of yellow tights and yellow high-heeled shoes. Her brittle bleached hair sat on her head, like little clumps of white moss. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

“It’s that tent, that’s what, Evelyn,” Mabel said as she pulled her coat down from the hanger in the hall. “The bleeming thing is blowing away.” I grabbed my anorak and shoved my arms into the sleeves. Beside me, my father grappled with his parka.

“Everything is going to be fine,” my mother said, as if we were being ridiculous, as if we were the panicking passengers and she was the captain who was steering us competently through a couple of choppy waves.

It was her dismissive tone that infuriated me, sparking an anger that turned, in a single second, into a firestorm. And with it came a realization: Of everyone I had struck out at in the past couple of days—Stan, Greg, Tracey, Malcolm—there was no one that I wanted to hurt more than my mother.

“Nothing is going to be fine!” I yelled. “Nothing! The weather, the tent, the whole bloody wedding—it’s all a disaster. All of it!”

“Now, now, Jesse,” my father said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “No need for that. No need to upset your mum.”

I batted him away. “No need to upset her?” My voice held a howl far stronger than the wind’s. “No need to upset her?” I repeated. “What about me?” I yelled. “Why doesn’t anyone care about upsetting me?” For a moment I stared at my father, my eyes an outraged accusation. He returned my look, blinking, as if a blinding light had been directed into his eyes. I dared him to speak, but he said nothing, and then I spun around to face my mother. “You!” I shouted, fueled by the delicious energy that coursed through me. “You are the biggest disaster of all.”

I took a couple of steps toward her, standing so close now that I could see the pale area of her pores where the Tanfastic hadn’t penetrated, a stripe of dark hair next