The Fabulists | Page 4

and he immediately trotted to her, satisfied. She wanted to get some mince.
Annie was Arthur's age, but taller. After tea, they went into the garden, playing under the tree in the precious minutes before nightfall. Tess grinned. Annie believed that she dominated Arthur, not realizing it was impossible. What would become of him? He seemed assured of his rightful place in the world, something special and fulfilling, if he wasn't hurt along the way. She gnawed at her knuckles, watching him for a while, and then set to making Brian's dinner.
Half-way through making it, she remembered that shepherd's pie used to be his favourite dinner. She had even liked making it for him, once upon a time. She sometimes thought they might still be living together, at least, if she hadn't had to go out to work to keep a roof over their heads.
Then, out of the blue, he had landed a job in a warehouse in the East Wall, just as she lost hers in Norton's clothing factory. It seemed ludicrous paying the bills for a house she didn't live in any more, but it had maintained her right to Arthur. With money in his pocket Brian was civil to her, in speech at least, but she didn't care about that anymore as long as she could see Arthur. It was, as her father put it, a queer set-up.
In a way, Brian had it made: his meals prepared for him and a free baby-sitter at least one night a week. No sex, of course, not from her anyway. She stood on a chair and took down his videos, carelessly hidden as usual on top of the kitchen unit. What did he have out this week? She examined the titles and the faked ecstasy and disintegrating flesh of the cover photos. It wasn't so much the porn or even the horror she minded. What she minded was that he never got out anything else. All he seemed to be interested in were anonymous fannies and gouged eyes. In one of the horror videos, a hypodermic needle plunged into an eyeball.
She bundled them back, leapt from the chair and retched at the sink. Of all the videos she had watched with Brian, that was the one which made her sick. And now he had it out again. Apart from the sadism, which made her squirm, all those things she would never have dreamt of doing with Brian or any man - and certainly not with a woman - all that appealed to the voyeur in her for a while. It was fascinating and some of it even turned her on; but then its cold athletics bored her and the horror stuff made her angry. The videos protruded over the kitchen unit, so she pushed them back out of sight with the brush.
Over dinner, Brian was in a good mood. He even repeated a joke one of the men had told him during the day. It was actually witty for a change, and, laughing so much, he wasn't put out when she didn't respond.
'I see you've got more of those videos,' she said, looking at the floor.
'So?'
'So you've got a seven-year-old son.'
'And you don't want him to see nude women, is that it?'
'Seeing nude women is one thing. Crude sex and torture is another.'
'He sees worse on the six o'clock news ... Okay, okay!'
She had been about to protest.
'I'm not going to let him near them, don't worry. I'm not a monster. I look after him, remember. I'm here six nights out of seven. I put him to bed, and get him out to school in the mornings.'
'I know what you do!'
'But I don't know what you do, six nights of the week, unless you're walking the streets.'
'Fuck you,' she said quietly, her voice breaking.
'And you. Though I wouldn't. Not now. Not never. And I'm sorry I ever did.'
She pushed the table away, upsetting everything on it, and ran into the hallway. She was furious, mostly with herself for leaving herself open. In the kitchen, his fork grated across his plate. Breathing heavily, she felt as if she was breaking in two, trying to cope with her fury and hurt. She wanted to shout that she wasn't going to be his skivvy any more, that he could make his own slop in future, but, biting her lip, she remembered Arthur.
Drained, she leaned against the living-room door. Arthur knelt before the television, absorbed in a loud cartoon. Tess watched him for several minutes, but he didn't move, except when his shoulders shook in mute laughter. The cartoon ended and she knelt beside him.
'I've got to go now, pet.'
He looked at her and leaned in towards her and she held him close, rocking him, moved as ever by his spontaneity.
'I love you very much,'