21st December 2010

IT DOES SAY NO CYCLING

by Dominic Minghella © 2010

THEM

Let’s not talk about your son, he said. Let’s make that a rule. Let’s just eat lunch.

Why? she said. Okay, she said. And maybe …

What? he said.

Maybe we should have another rule, she said, maybe we shouldn’t do the sex thing.

The sex thing? he said. Why do you call it that? he said. It’s not a thing.

I just think there has to be more than that.

How can there be more than that?

They ate four flavours of ravioli on oblong plates.

This fishy one tastes of you he smirked.

That’s gross she said.

Why gross? he said.

Outside, he said: Back to Brunswick, Mrs? And she said, I said no.

Yeah but does no mean no? Or do you want my tongue on you?

There are people! she said, blushing.

Shall I take that as a yes?

Can’t we just talk?

Okay, he said and walked a foot away from her. He stopped at the Renoir’s posters, pointedly.

We haven’t got much time, she said.

And you want to spend it talking.

Well we’re not talking, are we?

I don’t want to talk.

Evidently.

Turning into the building, grey, they walked fast, as usual, heads down. Three kids on bikes clattered past.

It does say no cycling, he said.

It does say no wanking, called one.

He glanced at her. Pricks.

Did you see his hair? she said. The mixed race one. Beautiful.

At the stairwell, grey, a dog, tied to the railings, was fucking another dog, tied to the railings.

Oh my God, she said. Where are the owners?

As they edged round, the dog slowed and looked directly at them.

Look at him, she said. He’s like, yeah? You got a problem? She shook her head.

Do you know how much a flat here costs? he said. If you could buy one. You can’t even buy one.

In the flat she used the bathroom and he put on the fan heaters and washed at the sink using liquid soap, turning the tap only for a moment, but long enough for her to call, The water here’s still not – ach!

It’s either that or it’s freezing, he called back.

This place is so cheap, she said.

Hardly.

It’s a bit cheap, she said.

That’s romantic.

She rolled her eyes and unzipped him. How about that? Is that romantic…?

It’s a start….

That last week’s wine? she said of two tumblers stained red.

I guess.

Ach.

If I’m going to be here, he said, I want to be here with you, I don’t want to clean.

On the bed he tapped her arm and she knew to hold on to the head of the bed while he worked until

she pushed up her hips and he knew to stop and touch her without withdrawing until she flinched, braking his hand, then turned her head away and kept it there while

he worked some more until

he fell on her, face against her still-turned cheek

Why do you do that? he said.

What? she said.

Turn your head like that.

I didn’t know I did.

Well you do.

Sorry.

No, it’s just.

I’d like to sleep with you, he said. Do you know what I’d like to do? I’d like to go to sleep inside you, not my – my thumb, with my thumb inside you.

Do you think he’s acting out? she said.

HER

She picked the wet post off the floor and pushed the door shut hard behind her, moving quickly left and then, when it wasn’t there, out and right into the living room where she found the turd nestling next to the sofa, dotted with sweetcorn.

In the kitchen, the Polish girl was scowling at the stove. He doesn’t say thank you, she said.

Could you not make it to the loo, love? she said.

What? he said.

There’s a poo in the living room, darling.

Oh yeah I couldn’t make it.

Try to make it to the loo darling otherwise Mummy or Katja has to clear it up.

I told him he must clean his own mess, said the Polish girl.

You knew it was there?

I have cold, I do not smell. Anyway he must learn.

What must he learn?

He must not make poo everywhere. In my country this is… she waved.

Oh really? In this country we like a bit of shit everywhere.

She yanked a yard of kitchen towel from the roll.

In bed the boy held his cock in one hand and the book in another.

Don’t do that, she said.

Why not? he said.

It’s not polite.

Why isn’t it polite? he said.

You don’t hold your willy in public, she said.

This is not public.

With someone else in the room, she said.

What about in the loo?

What about the loo?

In the loo they have urinals. You hold your willy there and sometimes there are other people in the room.

Except at the urinals.

Look, he said, there’s a mistake in the diagram.

What mistake?

It says that’s a neutron, he said. But it’s an electron.

How do you know that?

I don’t know, he said.

That’s very clever, she said.

And sex, he said.

What?

And sex, you hold your willy when you do sex.

The Polish girl pulled on her tight leather jacket and said, It is later than contract agreement.

I’m sorry, she said. Then, We are paying you more than contract, than the contract.

Going rate is ten pounds per hour.

I think you’ll find that is for qualified nannies, who live out, and have rent to pay.

I would like ten pounds.

Wouldn’t we all.

You don’t work for ten pounds.

True.

But I must work for less.

If you earn more than me then I can’t pay you, so yes –

There are two of you.

Yes.

Your son is rude and he shits everywhere.

She opened the front door. I have boyfriend, she said. I want to spend weekend with him.

That’s up to you, that’s fine, that’s good

He is coming here to my room.

I don’t think she said.

We cannot go to hotel, she said, not like you, so we have no choice.

What does that mean? she said, Not like you?

We have no choice, she said, and left.

She opened the dishwasher mid-cycle. Steam hit her glasses. She removed the wooden items, a crystal glass, a le creuset pot and closed the door.

She ran the water until it was very hot. She washed the retrieved articles by hand. She put her hands in the hot water. Her arms trembled in pain. She ran them under cold water, breathing hard. She soaked the cloth and wiped every surface. She put hand cream on her hands.

She heard the front gate whine.

She opened the bin and took out a handful of gunk and put it into the cleaned le creuset pot.

She put the pot on the stove.

She ran her grimy hand under the hot tap as he came in. She left it there for a moment.

How is he? the husband said, putting his jacket on the table.

Fine I think, she said, picking up the jacket.

You didn’t see him?

I saw him. He found a mistake in his encyclopedia. A neutron that should have been a nucleus or an electron or –

Bloody hell. Really? Amazing.

What are we going to do? she said.

He came close. Put his hand on her arse.

I’ve got to clean up, she said.

Why doesn’t she clean? We’ve got to tell her to clean, he said.

She wants ten pounds an hour, she said.

What? Bloody hell. You do realise, that’s like, in Poland, that’s like a million pounds.

Not really. Quite a lot of the Poles are going back. Better pay there than here.

Whatever. I don’t want you having to clean when you get back from work. It’s not fair, he said. Apart from anything else, when you’re tired, it’s not good for, it’s not good for our relationship.

Did you get any food? she said.

I forgot, he said. So I just went to M&S. Have you seen the prices? Just because it’s in a station they think they can charge, it’s outrageous. I got, I thought, ravioli, is that all right?

Okay.

It says Italian style. Not made in Italy, we notice. Italian style – Oh Christ, look at this pot, he said. Have you told her about le creuset? Has she been using a metal spoon? It’s bloody ruined. And what is this crap she’s feeding our son? Fucking hell.

He dipped in a finger and tasted it. Actually it’s not bad, he said. I take that back.

She took the pot and emptied its contents back into the bin and set the hot tap running.

Give me a shout, he said and left her in the kitchen.

She looked at her mobile. It was not flashing. She tapped in her code anyway. No message.

With deft sore thumbs she typed, I’ve been thinking. Let’s have a break –

She deleted. Should we have a –

Let’s talk about where this is –

This is not fair on anyo –

I forgot to say I can’t do next week –

I forgot to say I can’t do this anymore –

I forgot to say yes. She sent that.

She cut open the ravioli packet, releasing the stale dry air of its protected atmosphere.

The phone vibrated.

Yes what?

Yes go to sleep w ur thumb inside me.

I love it when u talk dirty.

ILY.

ILY2.

Do you think there could be one hidden somewhere? said the husband, returning. Front room really stinks of shit.

Unbelievable he said to the television, this fucking government

I’m going up she said

I don’t know how you can just walk away, he said

I’m tired, she said, there are things for the morning and …

She left him to his outrage

Just before he got to the top of the stairs

she switched off her light

He came in and flicked on the big light

The hypocrisy, he said, as he brushed his teeth

You awake? he said. Unbelievable, he said.

He got in. She rolled onto her side. He put his hand on her hip.

I love your hip, he said. You have a very hip hip.

She did not move.

He moved to her arse.

She held herself still.

I put it to you that you are not, in fact, asleep, he said.

Ngh, she said.

Is that Ngh as in Ngh or Ngh as in Ngh?

She moved further away.

Okay, he said, and took his hand away, rolled onto his back.

He did not move.

She did not move.

She did not move.

She put out a hand.

He did not move.

She touched his arm.

He did not move.

She pressed his arm.

He did not move.

She rolled over and ran her left hand across his chest.

He did not move.

She ran her hand south.

Ngh, he said. That’s as in Ngh. For the avoidance of doubt.

He put a hand to her breast. She twisted away. She stroked him hard and fast.

He put a hand to her breast again. She shifted again.

Let me, he said, but she worked harder, insisting, and he let it happen.

She rolled back onto her side.

Shall I – ? he said.

It’s all right, she said.

HIM

When he saw the cleaner in the living room, he remembered.

Sorry, he said, the bloody train, as his wife rose, coat on.

I’ve spoken to her, said his wife, but she says she doesn’t know what it’s about.

He looked at his daughter.

What? she said. I don’t know.

It’s obviously something otherwise they’d have said on the phone. It’s obviously serious.

I still don’t know. I’m not freaking psychic.

Don’t use that tone, said the mother.

I said freaking, not fucking.

It’s what you meant that matters.

Okay, I’m not fucking psychic, okay?

Can you talk to her? said the mother. I just can’t talk to her.

The school, after hours, was empty. They sat in a room that was too small for seven. The faces were sombre.

I’m sorry to have to call you in in this somewhat enigmatic manner, but having discussed it with colleagues and particularly in view of Mr Ridley’s absence leading the Cornwall Trip, it was felt that this was something best broached in the fle- face to face –

I’m so sorry, said the mother, whatever she’s done –

Can you just tell us what she’s done? he said.

I’d like to hand over to Mr Thomas on that. Mr Thomas?

Yes, thank you. I came into my room at the end of second break and found Emily, who was not, I should tell you, alone in this, although she has admitted that she was the instigator – with a pornographic website, viewing pornography on my machine.

Oh God, said the wife. The words rose in her guts and came out deep and loud. Oh God.

I don’t understand, he said, don’t you have a filter, a parental filter?

School does have, as you would imagine, a number of measures in place. However on this occasion….

It would appear that Emily has gained administrative access to School’s intranet and disabled the, uh, filters.

Oh God, said the wife.

And uh, he said, the material, the material she was viewing, was it, I mean, was it normal adult stuff, or – ?

We are in difficulty here. Obviously there’s a difficulty whatever the content. But in this instance it may be the case that some of the content may fall under the Obscene Publications Act.

Oh God, said the wife.

What do you mean, may?

In so far as Mr Thomas was able to see….

There is a grey area here, because to look, even in a supervisory role, could itself constitute a crime. In the absence of Mr Ridley, I have advised Mr Thomas to make no further comment. I have also taken the decision to switch off the monitor of the machine in question. We have physically disconnected it from School’s intranet and indeed the wider internet, but the machine remains on and untouched as I’m sure you will appreciate it could become the subject of a police investigation.

In the car he said, It’s normal.

It is not normal, she said. How can you say that?

It’s normal to be interested. Curious.

In that?

In what? We don’t know what, and neither do they. Did you notice that secretary took notes on the meeting? I’m surprised they didn’t have a stenographer. Also have you noticed that Deputy Head is about twelve? I mean, did his mum know he was out?

I want to move, said the mother. I feel sick. I feel sick.

If everybody who was interested in sex, whose children were interested in sex, had to move –

Shut up, she said. Don’t have an answer. Don’t always have a bloody answer.

They paid the cleaner for two hours. We’ve watched Dexter, she said. She said she was allowed.

She is not allowed, said the mother. She is never allowed –

That’s not, he said, actually we have said she can watch Dexter.

I’ll go, said the cleaner.

He looked at his daughter. She reacted. They’re so freaking prim, she said.

Why do you-? Why did you-? he said, shaking his head.

Do you know what their admin password was? Admin! I mean it would have been criminal not to. Admin!

Were there children involved? I need to know, said the mother. I need to know if there were children, or, or, or animals –

We’re all animals, said the daughter. So yes, there were animals involv-

The mother slapped her face.

Then turned to walk out. She sounds like you, she said to him. She speaks just like you.

THEM

They ate crab linguine from square white bowls.

Do you think, children, she said, do you think you would ever have another child?

God no, he said. Why? he said.

I’m just, she said.

Why would anyone do that, he said, when you can do this? Once you’ve tasted this?

What? she said.

This feeling that everything is about you. Every song. Every crap song. Poetry. It’s all about us. It’s like this crab linguine was invented for us. You don’t have that in a relationship.

Isn’t this a relationship?
You know what I mean. I feel alive. Don’t you feel alive? You look alive. You look seriously alive.

I feel… she said.

You think you feel guilty but you don’t. You only think you do because the world tells you that’s how you’re supposed to feel. You should feel great. It should be obligatory. It should be immoral not to have an affair. It should be shameful. A waste of good energy. I’m with the Catholics on this. Sex is holy. Every sperm is sacred.

That’s Monty Python, not the church.

But the idea’s right. You should have to confess. Bless me father for I have sinned. I didn’t fuck the hot woman in number 23 when I had the chance.

I was thinking I should take my son, I was thinking I should use these afternoons to take my son to the therapist. If he is acting out…..

Is there no other time?

Not really.

If he’s acting out and you stop this for him, then he’s won, he’s controlled you.

No. Even if he has, I can’t carry on with all this shit everywhere.

I’m gonna try that line, he said: give me love or I’m gonna shit everywhere. Do you think I’d get more girls?

I’m surprised you get any girls.

Me too. God.

In the taxi he laughed. Why doesn’t it say Thank you for not throwing up on the seats? Thank you for not ripping up the seats with a knife?

Stop it, she said. She slid her hand under his coat to his thigh.

What’s so special about not putting your feet on the seats that it gets singled out for praise?

How do people live here? he said, as they saw the dog, alone this time, tied to the railings. I mean really live here.

The dog growled as they edged past. She jumped.

In the stairwell he took her hand. You scared? he said.

No, she said.

Liar, he said.

He cupped her breast through her jumper. Fuck you, Mr Dog, he said, Where’s your girlfriend now?

He kissed her hard. He put both hands on her breasts and looked at the dog.

Yeah? he said to the dog. And? he said to the dog? What you gonna do about it?

They laughed.

The dog strained against the lead.

He felt for his keys. Let’s go up, he said.

The dog barked.

On the half-landing above them, a cyclist appeared, taking the stairs at speed.

Out of the fucking way, he said.

They pulled back.

The front wheel of the bike seemed to lock.

The kid looked at them as he flew head first past them down the stairs.

He was the mixed race one, the beautiful one, the prick. His expression was astonished, comical.

The boy’s head hit the wall on the far side of the stairwell.

The boy groaned.

Are you all right, she said?

The boy made a wet lapping sound.

The dog barked.

A dark red halo spread spread itself, determined and fast, onto the floor.

Oh my god, she said

He stepped behind the boy to see the wound. Gasped.

Oh my god, she said. Is that, is that his -?

Yeah.

Do something.

What?
Stop the bleeding.

I think if your brain’s visible…. He looked at her.

We could try.

I can’t go home covered in blood. I can’t be here, he said. Neither can you.

She took out her phone. I’ll call, she said. I’ll call an ambulance.

Her raw thumbs hesitated over the keypad.

The dog barked.

She scrolled to Emergency Call. Are You Sure You Want To Make An Emergency Call?

She hesitated. She looked at him. What do we do? she said.

They stood there.

Oh my God, she said. We can’t leave, she said.

No, he said. We can’t leave. Apart from anything else, there are cameras.

What do we do? she said.

I don’t know, he said. I don’t know, he said. That fucking dog, he said.

The dog barked.

The boy’s beautiful braided hair was heavy, wet.

A line of blood zigzagged its way between the paving slabs until it reached the railings near the dog, forming into a little pool. The dog fell silent. Put its tongue into the blood, and drank.