Then she says, quickly, before he leaves the room, before she loses her nerve, ‘Josh. Can I ask you something? A bit of a strange question?’
He turns and looks at her. He looks thin, she notes, the dips below his cheekbones pronounced and shadowed. ‘Yes?’
‘I was in your room yesterday.’
His eyes widen and bulge slightly in their sockets, barely perceptible but just enough to betray his anxiety. ‘Yeah?’
‘I was getting your dirty laundry. And there was a bag, behind the basket. Had some of your dad’s running gear in it. Any idea why?’
There’s a beat of silence. Then Josh says, ‘I went for a run.’
‘You went for a run? When?’
‘I dunno. A few times.’
Cate closes her eyes. She thinks of the way he moves, her second-born child, so slowly. Always a few paces behind. She remembers when he was younger, the countless times she’d have to pause on the pavement and wait for him to catch up with her. ‘Stop dawdling,’ she’d say. ‘Come on!’ And even now, at almost six feet, he still walks like a slug. He does everything slowly. She cannot picture him running. She says, ‘Really? You?’
‘Yeah. Why not?’
‘Because … I don’t know. You’re not the running type.’
‘Well. People change, don’t they?’
She sighs. ‘I suppose they do, yes. But here’s a weird thing. I didn’t wash the kit; I left it there. But now it’s gone and your dad’s wearing it again and says he found it in his drawer.’
Josh shrugs, moves one foot in front of the other. ‘Yeah. I washed it.’
‘You washed it?’
‘Yeah.’
She closes her eyes again. ‘So, let me get this straight. You borrowed your dad’s kit to go running in. Without ever telling me that you were going running. You left it in a carrier bag at the back of your wardrobe. Then you got it out, washed it, dried it, put it back in your dad’s drawers?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t understand, Josh. It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘What doesn’t make any sense? It makes total sense.’
‘No, Josh. It doesn’t. And you’re making me feel really uncomfortable. Like there’s something you’re hiding from me.’
And then Josh does something Josh never does. He shouts. He opens his mouth and he growls and he says, ‘OK. Fuck’s sake. OK. I pissed myself. OK? I was out running and I don’t know why. I do not know why, OK? But I pissed myself. Like totally through everything. And I couldn’t tell anyone because I was so embarrassed. So I just shoved the kit in the bag and hid it until I had a chance to wash it. OK? Are you happy now?’
Cate sways slightly in the aftershock of her son’s rage. And then she goes to him. She takes him in her arms and she holds him and she says, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry. It’s OK.’
She feels his arms around her and his face buried into her shoulder and she realises that he is crying. He says, ‘Mum. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I really love you.’
She rubs the back of his neck. She whispers in his ear. ‘It’s OK, Josh. It’s OK, whatever’s going on, you can tell me. You can tell me. It’s OK.’
‘I can’t tell you,’ he says. ‘I just can’t. Ever.’
And then he pulls himself from her embrace and strides from the room.
52
SAFFYRE
I got a text from Josh at about eight o’clock on Valentine’s Day. It said:Shit storm brewing! Alicia’s sent my dad a Valentine’s card and Georgia’s just opened it. No one’s read it yet. Don’t know what the hell to do.
