The Society Of Dirty Hearts Read Free Page B

strangely fascinated. He sent her a friend request and, shaking himself free, navigated back to Google. He searched for the meaning of the word ‘Morsus’ and found that it was Latin for pain.
    Julian frittered away a couple of hours browsing the internet, emailing university friends to let them know where he was. At one point, he heard the burr of his mum’s wheelchair motor in the hall. It paused outside the door. He held himself silent, hoping she’d think he was asleep. After a few seconds, she continued past the door. At six-thirty, Wanda knocked and said, “Food’s on the table, Julian.”
    “I’ll be there in a minute,” he replied.
    Christine and Wanda were already eating when Julian got to the table. Christine used a fork with a sharpened edge for cutting. “Where’s Dad?” he asked.
    “He phoned to say he’s working late,” said Christine.
    Julian’s eyebrows lowered in a frown of surprise. Ever since his mum’s illness, his dad had made a point of not working late so that he could be with her. “Is everything okay at the factory?”
    “He says so, but then you know how he is.” A note of irritation came into Christine’s voice. “He thinks he’s got to wrap me up in cotton-wool. I keep telling him, I worry more not knowing what’s going on. I may be ill, but that doesn’t mean I have to be treated like a child.”
    “Robert doesn’t treat you like a child,” said Wanda. Her expression suggested this was a familiar topic of conversation. “I’m sure he’d tell you if there was anything to really be worried about.”
    Christine looked doubtful, but said nothing. The conversation turned to Julian. Christine wanted to know how his studies were going. And more importantly, had he managed to find himself a girlfriend yet. He answered that his studies were going fine. And no, he hadn’t got a steady girlfriend. He’d had a few flings, but nothing serious. He felt relaxed talking to his mum, knowing she wouldn’t ask him about the dreams, not with Wanda there. After the meal, Julian helped Wanda clear the table and wash-up. Then Wanda gave Christine her daily massage. Julian watched as she massaged his mum’s spinal column and paralysed limbs with scented oil. The limbs looked withered and dead, like wilted vines. But it was clear there was still some life in them from the way Christine grimaced as Wanda pushed her hands over their slack, veiny flesh.
    At half-past seven, Julian said he was going out to meet Kyle. “Don’t stay out too late,” Christine called after him as he left the house.
     

 
    Chapter 2
     
    Julian pulled up outside a building with a blood-red neon sign overhanging the pavement that read ‘The Cut’. Another sign in the window stated ‘No Drugs or Nuclear Weapons allowed inside’. The bar was dark and grimy, almost deserted. There was a band playing on a small stage, fronted by some emo-boy whining on about loss and rejection. A boy with long hair, a goatee and a faceful of piercings stood drinking at the bar-counter. “Hey there, bro,” he called to Julian, grinning. “I got you a beer in.”
    “Cheers, man.” They shook hands, warrior-style. Julian glanced around, taking a sip from his bottle. He shook his head. “Fuck me, I never realised what a dump this place was until now.”
    “Hey, don’t go slagging it off, just ’cos you’ve been living it up in the big city. For some of us, this is the best we’ve got.”
    “Don’t worry, you’ll be out of here too at the end of the summer.”
    “As long as I get the grades I need.”
    “You will this time, no worries.”
    “Yeah, maybe. I fucking hope so. This town’s doing my head in. I’m so bored. There’s no one from our year left around, except me and all the dead-heads.” Kyle exhaled heavily. “Anyway, let’s stop talking about this before I get depressed.” He swilled back his beer. “I hope you’ve got your drinking boots on, Jules, ’cos I’m in the mood for getting properly