Part Four Chapter III

IIIAndrew had spent hours deciding which c messhes he ought to wear for his first days flirt at the Copper Kettle. His final choice was draped over the patronise of the chair in his bedroom. A particularly angry acne pustule had chosen to bring itself to a shiny tight peak on his remaining hand cheek, and Andrew had gone so far as to experiment with ruths foundation, which he had sneaked reveal of her serveing- prorogue drawer.He was laying the kitchen t adequate to(p) on Friday evening, his mind full of Gaia and the seven solid hours of c withdraw proximity to her that were inwardly sorrowful distance, when his father returned from work in a state that Andrew had n ever seen before. Simon seemed subdued, almost disorientated.Wheres your m otherwise?Ruth came bustling out of the walk-in pantry.Hello Si-Pie How whats wrong?Theyve made me redundant.Ruth clapped her hands to her grimace in horror, therefore dashed to her husband, threw her arms close to his neck and drew h im close.Why? she whispered.That inwardness, give tongue to Simon. On that fucking website. They pulled in Jim and Tommy in addition. It was take redundancy or well sack you. And its a shitty deal. Its not even what they gave Brian Grant.Andrew stood perfectly still, calcifying tardily into a monument of guilt.Fuck, state Simon, into Ruths shoulder.Youll get something else, she whispered.Not round here, verbalise Simon.He sat shine on a kitchen chair, still in his coat, and stargond crossways the room, apparently too stunned to speak. Ruth hovered around him, dismayed, affectionate and tearful. Andrew was glad to detect in Simons catatonic gaze a whiff of his usual gammon theatrics. It made him feel slightly less guilty. He continued to lay the table without saying a word.Dinner was a subdued affair. Paul, apprised of the family news, thinked terrified, as though his father susceptibi lighty accuse him of causing it for each one. Simon acted resembling a Christian marty r through the first course, wounded scarce dignified in the face of unwarranted persecution, merely then(prenominal) Ill pay someone to punch the fuckers fat face through the indorse of his neck, he burst out as he spooned apple crumble into himself and the family knew that he meant Howard Mollison.You know, theres been another message on that council website, said Ruth breathing placelessly. Its not only you whos had it, Si. Shir somebody told me at work. The same person The tincture of Barry Fairbrother has put up something horrible most Dr Jawanda. So Howard and Shirley got someone in to assure at the site, and he realized that whoevers doing these messages has been using Barry Fairbrothers log in details, so to be safe, theyve taken them off the the database or something And will whatever of this get me my fucking job buttocks?Ruth did not speak again for several minutes.Andrew was untune by what his mother had said. It was worrying that The_Ghost_of_Barry_Fair brother was being investigated, and unnerving that somebody else had followed his lead.Who else would have thought of using Barry Fairbrothers log-in details but Fats? Yet why would Fats go for Dr Jawanda? Or was it just another way of getting at Sukhvinder? Andrew did not like it at altogether Whats the matter with you? Simon barked across the table.Nothing, Andrew muttered, and then, backtracking, its a shock, isnt it your job Oh, youre shocked, are you? shouted Simon, and Paul dropped his spoon and dribbled ice cream put pot(a) himself. (Clean it up, Pauline, you little pansy) Well, this is the real world, pizza Face he shouted at Andrew. Fuckers everywhere trying to do you great deal So you, he pointed across the table at his eldest son, you get some dirt on Mollison, or dont crucify coming home tomorrowSi Simon pushed his chair away from the table, threw down his own spoon, which bounced onto the floor with a clatter, and stalked from the room, slamming the admittance behind him. Andrew waited for the inevitable, and was not disappointed.Its a terrible shock for him, a shaken Ruth whispered at her sons. After all the years hes fertilisen that company hes worried how hes going to look after us all When the alarm rang at six thirty the next morning, Andrew slammed it off within seconds and virtually leapt out of bed. Feeling as though it was Christmas Day, he washed and urbane at speed, then spent forty minutes on his hair and face, dabbing minuscule amounts of foundation onto the most obvious of his spots.He half expected Simon to waylay him as he crept past his parents room, but he met nobody, and after a hasty breakfast he wheeled Simons racing bicycle out of the garage and sped off down the hill towards Pagford.It was a misty morning that promised sunshine later. The blinds were still down in the delicatessen, but the door tinkled and gave when he pushed it.Not this way shouted Howard, waddling towards him. You move up in round the back Y ou can take off the bike by the bins, get it away from the frontThe rear of the delicatessen, reached by a narrow passageway, comprised a tiny dank patch of stone-paved yard, bordered by high walls, sheds with industrial-sized metal bins and a trapdoor that led down vertiginous steps to a cellar.You can chain it up somewhere there, out of the way, said Howard, who had appeared at the back door, wheezing and sweaty-faced. While Andrew fumbled with the padlock on the chain, Howard dabbed at his forehead with his apron.Right, well start with the cellar, he said, when Andrew had secured the bicycle. He pointed at the trapdoor. Get down there and see the layout.He bent over the hatch as Andrew climbed down the steps. Howard had not been able to climb down into his own cellar for years. Maureen usually tottered up and down the steps a couple of times a week but now that it was fully stocked with with severes for the cafe, younger legs were indispensible.Have a good look around, he shout ed at the out-of-sight Andrew. See where weve got the gateaux and all the baked goods? See the big bags of coffee beans and the boxes of teabags? And in the corner the toilet rolls and the bin bags?Yeah, Andrews illustration echoed up from the depths.You can call me Mr Mollison, said Howard, with a slightly tart edge to his wheezy voice.Down in the cellar, Andrew wondered whether he ought to start straight away.OK Mr Mollison.It sounded sarcastic. He hastened to make amends with a polite question.Whats in these big cupboards?Have a look, said Howard impatiently. Thats what youre down there for. To know where you put everything and where you get it from.Howard listened to the deadening sounds of Andrew opening the heavy doors, and hoped that the boy would not prove gormless or need a lot of direction. Howards asthma was particularly bad today the pollen count was unseasonably high, on top of all the pleonastic work, and the excitement and petty frustrations of the opening. The w ay he was sweating, he might need to ring Shirley to bring him a new shirt before they unlocked the doors.Heres the van Howard shouted, hearing a rumble at the other end of the passageway. Get up here Youre to carry the stuff down to the cellar and put it away, all right? And bring a couple of gallons of milk through to me in the cafe. You got that?Yeah Mr Mollison, said Andrews voice from below.Howard walked slowly back inside to fetch the inhaler that he kept in his jacket, which was hanging up in the stave room behind the delicatessen counter. some(prenominal) deep breaths later, he felt a lot better. Wiping his face on his apron again, he sat down on one of the creaking chairs to rest.Several times since he had been to see her about his skin rash, Howard had thought about what Dr Jawanda had said about his pack that it was the source of all his health problems.Nonsense, obviously. Look at the Hubbards boy built like a beanpole, and frightful asthma. Howard had always been b ig, as far back as he could remember. In the very few photographs taken of him with his father, who had left the family when Howard was four or five, he was merely chubby. After his father had left, his mother had sat him at the head of the table, between herself and his grandmother, and been hurt if he did not take seconds. Steadily he had grown to fulfil the space between the twain women, as heavy at twelve as the father who had left them. Howard had come to associate a hearty appetite with manliness. His bulk was one of his defining characteristics. It had been built with pleasure, by the women who loved him, and he thought it was absolutely characteristic of Bends-Your-Ear, that emasculating killjoy, that she wanted to strip him of it.But sometimes, in moments of weakness, when it became touchy to breathe or to move, Howard knew fear. It was all very well for Shirley to act as though he had never been in danger, but he remembered long nights in the hospital after his bypass, when he had not been able to sleep for worry that his heart might falter and stop. Whenever he caught sight of Vikram Jawanda, he remembered that those long hidden fingers had actually touched his naked, beating heart the bonhomie with which he brimmed at each encounter was a way of driving out that primitive, instinctive terror. They had told him at the hospital afterwards that he needed to lose some weight, but he had dropped two stone naturally while he was forced to sleep with off their dreadful food, and Shirley had been intent on fattening him up again once he was out Howard sat for a moment more, enjoying the ease with which he breathed after using his inhaler. Today meant a great deal to him. Thirty-five years previously, he had introduced fine dining to Pagford with the elan of a sixteenth-century explorer returning with delicacies from the other side of the world, and Pagford, after initial wariness, had soon begun to nose curiously and timidly into his polystyrene pots . He thought wistfully of his late mother, who had been so proud of him and his thriving business. He wished that she could have seen the cafe. Howard heaved himself back to his feet, took his deerstalker from its move up and placed it carefully on his head in an act of self-coronation.His new waitresses arrived together at half-past eight. He had a surprise for them.Here you are, he said, holding out the uniforms disgraceful dresses with frilly white aprons, on the nose as he had imagined. Ought to fit. Maureen reckoned she knew your sizes. Shes wearing one herself.Gaia forced back a prank as Maureen stalked into the delicatessen from the cafe, smiling at them. She was wearing Dr Scholls sandals over her black stockings. Her dress finished two inches above her wrinkled knees.You can change in the staff room, girls, she said, indicating the place from which Howard had just emerged.Gaia was already pulling off her jeans beside the staff toilet when she saw Sukhvinders expression. Whassamatter, Sooks? she asked.The new nickname gave Sukhvinder the courage to say what she might otherwise have been unable to voice.I cant wear this, she whispered.Why? asked Gaia. Youll look OK.But the black dress had short sleeves.I cant.But wh Jesus, said Gaia.Sukhvinder had pulled back the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Her inner arms were covered in undeserving criss-cross scars, and angry fresh-clotted cuts travelled up from her wrist to her inner arm.Sooks, said Gaia quietly. What are you playing at, boyfriend?Sukhvinder shook her head, with her eye full of tears.Gaia thought for a moment, then said, I know come here.She was stripping off her long-sleeved T-shirt.The door suffered a big blow and the imperfectly closed bolt piquantness open a sweating Andrew was halfway inside, carrying two weighty packs of toilet rolls, when Gaias angry shout stop him in his tracks. He tripped out backwards, into Maureen.Theyre changing in there, she said, in sour disapproval.Mr Mollison t old me to put these in the staff bathroom.Holy shit, holy shit. She had been stripped to her bra and pants. He had seen nearly everything.Sorry, Andrew yelled at the closed door. His consentaneous face was throbbing with the force of his blush.Wanker, muttered Gaia, on the other side. She was holding out her T-shirt to Sukhvinder. Put it on underneath the dress.Thatll look weird.Never mind. You can get a black one for next week, itll look like youre wearing long sleeves. Well tell him some story Shes got eczema, Gaia announced, when she and Sukhvinder emerged from the staff room, fully dressed and aproned. All up her arms. Its a bit scabby.Ah, said Howard, glancing at Sukhvinders white T-shirted arms and then back at Gaia, who looked every bit as gorgeous as he had hoped.Ill get a black one for next week, said Sukhvinder, unable to look Howard in the eye.Fine, he said, patting Gaia in the little(a) of her back as he sent the pair of them through to the cafe. Brace yourselves, he c alled to his staff at large. Were nearly there doors open, please, MaureenThere was already a little knot of customers waiting on the pavement. A sign outside read The Copper Kettle, Opening Today First Coffee FreeAndrew did not see Gaia again for hours. Howard kept him busy heaving milk and fruit juices up and down the steep cellar steps, and swabbing the floor of the small kitchen area at the back. He was given a dejeuner break earlier than either of the waitresses. The next glimpse he got of her was when Howard summoned him to the counter of the cafe, and they passed within inches of each other as she walked in the other direction, towards the back room.Were swamped, Mr Price said Howard, in high good humour. Get yourself a clean apron and mop down some of these tables for me while Gaia has her lunchMiles and Samantha Mollison had sat down with their two daughters and Shirley at a table in the window.It seems to be going dreadfully well, doesnt it? Shirley said, looking aroun d. But what on earth is that Jawanda girl wearing under her dress?Bandages? suggested Miles, squinting across the room.Hi, Sukhvinder called Lexie, who knew her from primary school.Dont shout, darling, Shirley reproved her granddaughter, and Samantha bristled.Maureen emerged from behind the counter in her short black dress and frilly apron, and Shirley corpsed into her coffee.Oh dear, she said quietly, as Maureen walked towards them, beaming.It was true, Samantha thought, Maureen looked ridiculous, especially next to a pair of sixteen-year-olds in identical dresses, but she was not going to give Shirley the satisfaction of agreeing with her. She turned ostentatiously away, watching the boy mopping tables nearby. He was spare but evenhandedly broad-shouldered. She could see his muscles working under the loose T-shirt. Incredible to think that Miles big fat backside could ever have been that small and tight then the boy turned into the light and she saw his acne.Not half bad, is it? Maureen was croaking to Miles. Weve been full all day.All right, girls, Miles addressed his family, whatll we have to keep up Grandpas profits?Samantha listlessly ordered a bowl of soup, as Howard waddled through from the delicatessen he had been striding in and out of the cafe every ten minutes all day, greeting customers and checking the flow of cash into the till.Roaring success, he told Miles, power play in at their table. What dyou think of the place, Sammy? You havent seen it before, have you? Like the mural? Like the china?Mm, said Samantha. Lovely.I was thinking about having my sixty-fifth here, said Howard, absent-mindedly scratching at the itch Parminders creams had not yet cured, but its not big enough. I think well stick with the church hall.Whens that, Grandpa? piped up Lexie. Am I coming?Twenty-ninth, and what are you now sixteen? Course you can come, said Howard happily.The twenty-ninth? said Samantha. Oh, but Shirley looked at her sharply.Howards been planning thi s for months. Weve all been talking about it for ages. thats the night of Libbys concert, said Samantha.A school thing, is it? asked Howard.No, said Libby, Mums got me tickets for my favourite group. Its in London.And Im going with her, said Samantha. She cant go alone.Harriets silent says she could Im taking you, Libby, if youre going to London.The twenty-ninth? said Miles, looking hard at Samantha. The day after the election?Samantha let loose the derisive laugh that she had spared Maureen.Its the Parish Council, Miles. Its not as though youll be giving press conferences.Well, well miss you, Sammy, said Howard, as he hauled himself up with the aid of the back of her chair. Best get on all right, Andrew, youre done here go and see if we need anything up from the cellar.Andrew was forced to wait beside the counter while people passed to and from the bathroom. Maureen was loading up Sukhvinder with plates of sandwiches.Hows your mother? she asked the girl abruptly, as though the thought had just occurred to her.Fine, said Sukhvinder, her colour rising.Not too upset by that nasty business on the council website?No, said Sukhvinder, her eyes watering.Andrew proceeded out into the dank yard, which, in the early afternoon, had become warm and sunny. He had hoped that Gaia might be there, taking a breath of fresh air, but she must have gone into the staff room in the deli. Disappointed, he lit up a backside. He had barely inhaled when Gaia emerged from the cafe, finishing her lunch with a can of effervescent drink.Hi, said Andrew, his mouth dry.Hi, she said. Then, after a moment or two Hey, whys that friend of yours such a shit to Sukhvinder? Is it personal or is he racist?He isnt racist, said Andrew. He removed the cigarette from his mouth, trying to keep his hands from trembling, but could not think of anything else to say. The sunshine reflected off the bins warmed his sweaty back close proximity to her in the tight black dress was almost overwhelming, espe cially now that he had glimpsed what lay beneath. He took another drag of the cigarette, not knowing when he had felt so bedazzled or so alive.Whats she ever done to him, though?The curve of her hips to her tiny waist the perfection of her wide, flecked eyes over the can of Sprite. Andrew felt like saying, Nothing, hes a bastard, Ill hit him if you let me touch you Sukhvinder emerged into the yard, blinking in the sunlight she looked uncomfortable and hot in Gaias top.He wants you back in, she said to Gaia.He can wait, said Gaia coolly. Im finishing this. Ive only had forty minutes.Andrew and Sukhvinder contemplated her as she sipped her drink, awed by her arrogance and her beauty.Was that old skreak saying something to you just then, about your mum? Gaia asked Sukhvinder.Sukhvinder nodded.I think it mightve been his mate, she said, staring at Andrew again, and he found her emphasis on his positively erotic, even if she meant it to be derogatory, who put that message about your mum on that website.Cantve been, said Andrew, and his voice wobbled slightly. Whoever did it went after my old man, too. Couple of weeks ago.What? asked Gaia. The same person posted something about your dad?He nodded, relishing her interest.Something about stealing, wasnt it? asked Sukhvinder, with considerable daring.Yeah, said Andrew. And he got the sack for it yesterday. So her mum, he met Gaias blinding gaze almost steadily, isnt the only one whos suffered.Bloody hell, said Gaia, upending the can and throwing it into a bin. People round here are effing mental.