‘I mean I did not run. Drew and Taylor did. But I did not.’
‘What? Why?JB?’
‘I did notwantto run, Sir.’
‘Wait. You did not run because you did notwantto – but Drew and Taylor ran?’
‘Yes.’
‘They ran without you?’
‘No – I chosenotto run with them.’
‘What times did they do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’tknow?Do they know?’
‘I guess? I could ask?’
‘John – is it your ankle? That’s why you didn’t run? I’ll have someone book an MRI or find an orthopaedic guy for you in Scotland. JB?JB?You still there?’
JB could envisage his father holding his phone aloft, moving about the room, wondering if it was his signal or JB’s.
‘My ankle is absolutely fine,’ JB said. ‘You know what? I just did not feel like running. Hello? Hello?’
But he knew the signal was fine. The line was still live. He had stunned his father into silence and JB wasn’t sure quite what to say next. He’d just lied to his father, twice in quick succession. Because with every fibre of his being he had wanted to run yesterday, run every step of that gruelling marathon right here on this hilly, wind-torn isle. He regarded his ankle and knew it was anything but fine. The swelling was going down but it was a murderous colour now. It was hot and sore to touch and, within it, the pain ran deep. He thought of his father, calling him fromhis study with the oversized furniture; he felt simultaneously triumphant and a little scared too.
They made dinner from everything that was left in the cupboards, in the fridge, leaving themselves just salt, milk and porridge for breakfast in the morning. JB told them about his phone call home with his father and Taylor spoke of calling his dad from the beach.
‘But I really don’t want to phone my mom,’ Taylor said. ‘It’s like I don’t really know her anymore.’
JB didn’t understand this. Mothers were just mothers, really. Always there but not doing all that much. He liked his mom very much; he liked the way she never worried about the world. It was soothing. He knew how sometimes he drove her nuts but he could always solve that with a bear hug and then she’d giggle like a girl.
‘I mean,’ Taylor continued. ‘She left my dad – some total horseshit about needing to reconnect with herself as a woman not a wife or a mother. Some crap about finding where she fits, about claiming back time.’ He faltered and his voice changed. ‘Well I think my dad’s done a pretty good job being a husband and chrissakes, I’m herson.’
He pushed his plate away from him and scraped back his chair. ‘And what’s with the stupid lies about those old pieces of tweed being woven by my grandfather? What’s the point of that? I feel bad for my dad – but her? I actually don’t know what I think of her but I have a headache now so I’m going out for some air.’
But Taylor didn’t go far, he didn’t need to walk away. He just stood in the garden. A few moments later, JB and Drew joined him.
‘You know,’ said Drew, ‘when I was home over Christmas, I don’t know why but I started looking at my mom’s phone – just to see what apps she has, what music, check out her photo stream. Anyways, so there’s this photo there – and it’s just, like, from the waist up. Thankfuck. But she’s in some bra and she’s got stuff on her eyes and these red lips. She does not wear lipstick, my mom. And her lips are doing that pout thing. You can see our fridge in the background and there’s stuff, like messy, on our kitchen counter. I mean it was tame but it was soweird. Because it was my mom and it wasn’t my mom.’ He sighed. He wasn’t sure if this was helping.
‘Anyhow, next I go through her messages – I don’t know why. And she’s sending these messages to some guy. He’s called Gerard. And I read a few – they weren’t, you know,bad. But they were – well, they were not written by mymom.’ He touched Taylor’s arm. ‘But theywerewritten by Donna who also happens to be my mom. And I realised they were not for me to read or judge. I had no right not to allow her to be—her.’
Drew gave a little shiver, the breeze had a thin, slicing chill to it. Spring nights on an island off the west coast of Scotland were very different to spring days. ‘So Taylor, I guess what I’m saying is we have to let our folks be people at some point – not just parents. We just do. Imagine what my mom would think if she saw half of what I get up to. Imagine what your mom would think if she knew about some of the things you’ve done!’
Taylor swallowed hard. Cleared his throat. Didn’t want to try words. But JB surged in; lightening the load in his inimitable way.
‘Taylormeister! The T-Dawg – what was that magic number? Four fair maidens in your first week at college?! T-boner by name, T-boner by nature!’
‘I was eighteen,’ Taylor said. ‘I wasn’t who I am now.’
‘Exactly,’ JB said quietly. Then he put Taylor into a stranglehold and he kissed him on the top of the head.
And then they walked back into Flora’s House.
‘It’s all okay,’ Drew said quietly to all of them. ‘It’s just going to be different.’
