The Wasp Factory Page 0,46

He lifted his head and put it slightly to one side to listen better. I missed a little of what Eric said in reply to me, and only caught:

‘. . . care how I feel. Every time I ring up it’s the same. “Where are you?” That’s all you care about; you don’t care about where my head’s at, only my body. I don’t know why I bother, I don’t. I might as well not take the trouble of calling.’

‘H’m. Well. There you are,’ I said, looking down at my father and smiling. He stood there, silent and unmoving.

‘See what I mean? That’s all you can say. “H’m. Well. There you are.” Thanks a fucking lot. That shows all you care.’

‘Not at all. Quite the contrary,’ I told him, then put the phone just a little away from my mouth and shouted to my father: ‘It’s only Jamie again, Dad!’

‘... why I bother to make the effort really I don’t ... ,’ Eric rambled on in the earpiece, apparently oblivious to what I’d just said. My father ignored it, too, standing in the same position as before, head cocked.

I licked my lips and said, ‘Well, Jamie—’

‘What? You see? You’ve forgotten my name again now. What’s the use? That’s what I’d like to know. H’m? What’s the use? He doesn’t love me. You love me, though, don’t you, h’m?’ His voice became slightly fainter and more echoey; he must have taken his mouth away from the handset. It sounded as though he was talking to somebody else in the call-box with him.

‘Yes, Jamie, of course.’ I smiled at my father and nodded and put one hand under the other armpit, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

‘You love me, don’t you, my sweet? As though your little heart was on fire for me . . .’ Eric mumbled far away. I swallowed and smiled again at my father.

‘Well, that’s the way things go, Jamie. I was just saying that to Dad here this morning.’ I waved at Father.

‘You’re burning up with love for me, aren’t you, me little darlin’?’

My heart and stomach seemed to collide as I heard a rapid panting noise come over the phone behind Eric’s muttering. A slight whine and some slobbering noises brought goose-pimples up all over me. I shivered. My head shook as though I’d just knocked back some hundred-proof whisky. Pant pant whine whine went the noise. Eric said something soothing and quiet in the background. Oh my God, he had a dog in there with him. Oh, no.

‘Well! Listen! Listen, Jamie! What do you think?’ I said loudly and desperately, wondering if my father could see my goosebumps. I thought my eyes must be starting out of my head, too, but there was little I could do; I was trying the best I could to think of something distracting to say to Eric. ‘I was - ah - I was just thinking that we really must - must get Willy to give us another shot of his old car; you know, the Mini he bombs up and down the sands on sometimes? That was really good fun earlier on, wasn’t it?’ I was croaking by now, my mouth drying up.

‘What? What are you talking about?’ Eric’s voice said suddenly, close to the phone again. I swallowed, smiled once more at my father, whose eyes seemed to have narrowed slightly.

‘You remember, Jamie. Getting a shot of Willy’s Mini. I really must get Dad here’ - I hissed those two words - ‘to get me an old car I could drive on the sands.’

‘You’re talking crap. I’ve never driven anybody’s car on the sands. You’ve forgotten who I am again,’ Eric said, still not listening to what I was saying. I turned away from looking down at my father and faced into the corner, sighing mightily and whispering ‘Oh my God,’ to myself, away from the mouthpiece.

‘Yes. Yes, that’s right, Jamie,’ I continued hopelessly. ‘That brother of mine is still making his way here, as far as I can tell. Me and Dad here are hoping he’s all right.’

‘You little bastard! You’re talking as though I’m not even here! Christ, I hate when people do that! You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, me old flame?’ His voice went away again, and I heard doggy noises - puppy noises, come to think of it - over the phone. I was starting to sweat.

I heard footsteps in the hall below, then the kitchen light click off.