The Night Book Read Free Page B

shore was thick and tangled. The beach ended in an estuary, green water running out through stands of bright mangroves. They looked across the estuarine flats, to where the steamy channels ran through the swamp. There was a sign warning them not to go further, because of the crocodiles — the salties could be three metres long, and they were aggressive. They would even jump up at you when you were in a boat. Marcus wanted to go to the edge of the mangroves, but Simon pulled him back, and they lay in the shade of a dead tree stump, bleached white by sun and salt, its branches reaching up like arms.
    Marcus poked the sand with a stick. He said, ‘Elke went in the pool last night.’
    Simon sat up. ‘She’s not allowed to do that. How’d she get through the gate?’
    ‘She went out in the corridor and round that way.’
    ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’
    ‘Claire said not to.’
    ‘But she could drown.’
    Marcus looked at him. ‘Claire said don’t get her in trouble.’
    Simon tried to read the boy’s expression, started to speak and gave up, squinting along the shoreline, making out the shape of the others in the distance.
    He lazed in the shade while Marcus bowled coconuts into the sea. When Karen and the girls arrived, he could tell immediately that something was up. Karen’s answers were clipped; she shrugged away and wouldn’t look at him.
    He took her aside. ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘Why didn’t you wait for us? You went ahead and left us. I had no way of catching up. We couldn’t call, you were too far away.’
    He was exasperated. ‘Look around you. Look at the beach, the sky. It’s beautiful and all you can do is throw a sulk?’
    ‘You wouldn’t wait. I wanted to stop. I’m tired. I didn’t want to go all the way to the end.’
    ‘So why didn’t you stop?’
    He jammed his cap on his head. Jesus. Family life.
    All the way back Karen sulked, and didn’t thaw out until that evening, when they were sitting at a café on the main street having dinner. She sipped her wine and when her mood started to break she put her hand on his arm: making peace. He squeezed her hand but looked away — and this wasn’t enough, he knew. She made a tsking sound and drew away from him.
    Claire said, ‘Stop it.’
    ‘Stop what.’
    ‘Elke kicked me.’
    Karen said, ‘Claire.’
    Claire went red. ‘It’s not me. You always think it’s me.’ She nudged Elke hard, Elke flung out her arm and a drink spilled across the table. Simon got up fast as the cold, sugary liquid cascaded into his lap.
    Karen took Claire by the arm, dragged her out into the street and told her off in savage whispers. Elke licked her sticky fingers and watched.
    ‘Stop looking,’ Simon told her roughly. There was a mirror on the wall among the photos of tropical fish and coral reefs; he saw himself scowling, ineptly mopping the table with paper napkins.
    He thought how it would be to live alone, without all the fights and bitching and tears. The secret, somehow shaming thoughthad occurred to him before, but it had always served as a way of confirming how much he did want it: family life. The young waitress swung towards him through the tables, tossing her hair out of her eyes. He thought about leaving, living alone, breaking free of it all.
    That night Simon and Karen drank a lot of wine. They went back to the hotel, put the kids to bed and watched the TV news channel. He reached out for Karen, wanting her, but she pushed him away. ‘I hate it when you’ve been drinking.’
    ‘I’m not drunk.’
    But he was, so drunk in fact that he forgot to wire the pool fence shut.
    Karen slept restlessly beside him. He was hot and uncomfortable, scratchy with sunburn and dry-mouthed from the wine. Everything was out of alignment, jagged, spoiled. Something was breaking up inside him, he had lost faith or conviction; a force had been unleashed that would break up everything they had. Karen believed passionately in the family. She thought everything