The Fabulists | Page 3

and change.
The queue had stalled because of an argument at the hatch, and several women were already grumbling and restless. There was a light steam rising off their coats, and one woman's hair was stringy from the rain. Tess took off her cap. Small mercy, her hair was dry. The young woman at the head of the queue was still arguing, her voice rising and her face red. She turned sideways, shouting from an angle at the unfortunate clerk who was now exposed to the queue. Tess stepped a little to the right so she could see everything. The clerk retreated behind an immovable bureaucracy, but Tess could see she was upset.
'Fuck this for a lark,' the woman in front of Tess swore. 'I've a kid to collect.'
'Me too,' Tess said.
The woman glanced at Tess, then roared at the clerk. 'Would you not get her a supervisor so we can get out of here today?'
Tess gnawed on her nails, and stared at a big rubber plant as she automatically shuffled along. Her turn came, she put her cap firmly back on, signed the docket and brought it to the pay-hatch queue. The notes were fresh and before she put them into her purse she flicked them for the pleasure of it. Outside, she hesitated, longing for a cup of coffee, but she would have to get the bus to Fairview.
She arrived at the school on the stroke of three, and heard the faint bell and then the clamour of the children as they rushed out. Tess glanced at a woman who nodded and theysmiled at each other. There were a few men waiting too, aloof - embarrassed, she supposed. Only one spoke to his children; the others turned as their children came up to them and one walked away as soon as he saw his girl, letting the child catch up with him along the street. He was the surly one who stared at Tess most days but always turned away when she faced him, as if she embodied all his humiliation, and she hated him. It wasn't her fault that he was unemployed and humbled like this in front of women. He was employed bringing his child home, like everyone else here.
Arthur as usual was last, holding his satchel in front of him, his knees bumping it forward as he walked. She always meant to reprimand him for dragging his feet coming out of school as if she was the last person he wanted to see, but as soon as she saw his dreamy brown eyes, she forgot. They stayed on her until he had almost reached her, and then his face would come alive, in a mischievous, embracing grin. Like an actor with perfect timing, he left it to the last moment, keeping her sense of expectation flickering.
'Hello Tess.'
'Hello Arthur.'
She gave him a quick, sideways hug. Arthur was a loving child, but she had discovered that boys, no less than men, disliked being embraced in public. They walked happily through Fairview, oblivious to the constant roar of traffic. She glanced down at Arthur, who seemed completely at ease, and while envying his self-possession, she was grateful for it too.
He was obviously happier since she and Brian had split up. There was peace in the house and he could be with both his parents for some of the day, most days. How had two people, who had been at each other's throats for most of their marriage - how had they produced a placid, contented boy like Arthur? She often wondered, and supposed it to be one of life's conundrums.
'Can I invite Annie to tea?'
'Who?'
'Annie. She's been sick.'
'Annie. Oh yes, of course ... Yes of course, invite her to tea! That's a very nice thought, Arthur.'
And to think she hadn't even missed Annie. He retreated back into himself, with a hint of a smile, content. He looked as if he had his life plotted out, and his asking permission was only a polite formality.
They went into the playground in Fairview Park and she sat down, holding him before her and looking into his eyes. 'Arthur, do you miss me not being at home at night?'
He thought about it for a moment.
'Would you come and tuck me in more often? Daddy's not very good at telling stories. He reads through a book at a hundred miles an hour and turns out the light as soon as he's finished.'
'Do I tell good stories?'
'Well, you don't rush, and they come out of your head, and your eyes go all wide when you think of the good bits.' She laughed.
'But apart from the stories, is it all right?'
'I suppose so,' he shrugged, and dropping his bag, he ran off to the slide. She watched him climb and slide several times before calling him,