The Reunion Read Free

Jim. All right with that?”
    “There’s no need for sarcasm, David. I can’t face them
today, it’s too difficult for me,” Jane said with an
actually-I-feel-tough-enough-to-face-anything voice.
    “Surely you understand how poor Jane feels, David,” Jim
added. “Show some compassion for god’s sake.”
    Jane took over. “I think we should go now, but as I said,
I’ll see them tomorrow.”
    She turned to leave. Jim remained facing him. “You take
care of yourself now, David.” He extended his arm for a handshake which sent
David into such a state of shock that he sat down, his mouth agape.
    And with that Jim turned and followed Jane out through
the kitchen towards the front door.
    David was still in shock, sitting on the white plastic
chair with the mildew-covered orange and brown striped cushion, when Sam came
home. He couldn’t have missed Jane by more than a couple of minutes. With great
excitement Sam began to recount how he’d been testing out his friend Adrian’s
new radio controlled car in the local park. While David fretted about what to
say, Sam talked about the speed of the Lamborghini model, how it was something
he’d love to own so that he could race against his friend.
    “It’s only £69.99 at Argos, dad.”
    This pause for his dad to consider the proposition was
the opportunity David needed.
    “Sam, listen son, something terrible has happened. It’s
your mother.”
    “She’s not had an accident has she?” asked Sam with an
expression suggesting surprisingly little concern.
    “No, not an accident,” replied David, for an instant
wishing she had.
    “Good, that’s alright then. Dad, what about an advance
Christmas present? If I had to wait until then I wouldn’t be able to use it for
ages what with the mud and snow and stuff. But it would be brilliant for now. What
do you reckon?”
    “Maybe, but listen. Your mother.”
    “Yes?” Sam enquired impatiently.
    “She’s leaving us. Well me to be more precise, although I
suppose also you because she doesn’t intend to live here. She’s going to live
with Jim.”
    “Uncle Jim?”
    “Yes, Uncle Jim.” As he spoke there was a sudden gust of
wind and a medley of early falling leaves swirled down from the cherry tree.
    “They’re just friends, dad. Mum’s always going on about
how helpless he is since his wife died. She goes round loads to check he’s OK,
but they’re only visits.”
    “I’m afraid not, Sam.”
    “Dad, you must have misheard.”
    There was a pause as David weighed up the value of
convincing Sam that he was indeed right.
    “Who’s going to cook dinner then?” said a boy who’s calm
practical outlook on life had always been in such sharp contrast to his
sister’s frequent emotional outbursts.
    “What?”
    “If mum leaves, who’s going to cook dinner?”
    “Well tonight’s my turn, it’s Saturday,” David mumbled,
disturbed by the way the conversation was progressing.
    “But what about other days?”
    “Sam, I haven’t given it a lot of thought. Me again, I
suppose.”
    “Oh. It’s just that mum’s a better cook than you. It’s OK
to say that isn’t it, dad?”
    “Yes, it’s fine to say that,” said David reassuringly, wondering
whether this was Sam’s way of dealing with the traumatic news.
    “What are we eating tonight?” Sam persevered.
    “We’ve got lamb.”
    “I must admit I do like the taste, but when you see the
lambs jumping about outside in the fresh air it does make you think.”
    “We live in the middle of London. When did you last see a
frolicking lamb?”
    “Last week. Not live, on TV.” Sam returned to the big
issue. “I’m sure everything will turn out OK, about mum I mean. She’ll stay
with us, just you see.”
    David was not so sure, it had seemed pretty final to him.
    “Dad, will you have a good think about the car?”
    “Yes, I will,” David replied. Although he was pleased the
news hadn’t made Sam distraught, there was a degree of despondency that his