‘So are you still swimming?’ she asks him during the ad break.
He tells her about the swim meet coming up this weekend.
‘Wow, that’s so exciting,’ she says.
‘Yeah,’ he says, nodding. (Hit by runaway hotdog cart, trip over cat, catch chickenpox, water shortage → all pools empty everywhere.) ‘It’s the semi-finals?’
‘Cool.’ She scratches her nose thoughtfully. ‘So you didn’t quit?’
‘Quit?’
‘Yeah, when I was talking to you the night of the dance, you said you wanted to quit it.’
‘Oh –’ when I was talking to you the night of the dance??!! ‘– um, well, it’s quite hard work, I suppose. Like, we have to get up at half six to train, and stuff. So it’s hard work, that’s what I meant.’
‘You told me you hated it,’ she says.
‘I hated it?’
She nods, her eyes fixed on his.
‘Yeah…’ he says vaguely. ‘Yeah, sometimes I feel a bit like that.’
‘Why would you do something you hate?’
‘Well, I suppose my parents are excited about it, so…’
‘They don’t want you to do something you hate, do they?’
‘No, but…’ The Game, even here! It rises up monolithic out of the floor like a staring tombstone: caught in its shadow he trails off, sitting there dumbly, miserably, wishing she’d stop looking at him – then the door opens and the tall man from the photograph comes in.
‘Daddy!’ Lori cries, and leaps up from the couch.
‘There’s my princess!’ The man puts down his shopping bags so he can lift her up and swing her. ‘And who do we have here?’ he says, looking at Skippy scrunched up on the couch.
‘This is my friend Daniel,’ Lori says.
‘Aha… so this is the man who’s been keeping you out till all hours,’ her dad says. ‘Well, well. Gavin Wakeham.’ He lopes round to crush Skippy’s hand in his and peer at him interrogatively.
‘Daniel’s in Seabrook,’ Lori tells her dad.
‘Is he?’ The man brightens at this. ‘I’m an old Blue-and-Gold myself! Class of ’82. Tell me, Daniel, how’s Des Furlong? He back yet?’
‘No, he’s still sick,’ Skippy says. ‘Mr Costigan is in charge.’
‘Greg Costigan! I was in school with that bastard. What do you make of him, Daniel? Talks a lot of shite, doesn’t he? Actually, tell him I said that, will you? Tell him Gavin Wakeham says he talks a lot of shite, will you do that for me?’ His big face looks down at Skippy avariciously, like a hungry monster that has discovered a plate of bonbons. Skippy doesn’t know what to say. ‘Good man, he’s true to his school!’ Lori’s dad guffaws, slapping his back. ‘Matter of fact, Greg is a good friend of mine. Still see him for the odd pint up at the rugby club. You play yourself, Dan?’
‘Daniel’s on the swimming team,’ Lori says, snuggled under his arm. ‘They’ve got a big race coming up. They’re in the semi-finals.’
‘Is that so? And who’s coaching you? It’s not still Brother Connolly, is it? Brother Fondle-me, we used to call him.’
‘Mr Roche does it now,’ Skippy says.
‘Ah yes, Tom Roche, of course. Tragic story. You know it?’
‘Yes,’ Skippy says, but Lori’s dad starts telling him anyway. ‘Probably the best winger of his generation. Could have walked on to the international team. Walked on to it, if it wasn’t for what happened. And now I hear the other fellow’s back in Seabrook too, the one who let him take the drop for him, what’s his name again…?’
‘Daddy, what did you buy?’ Lori tugs at his elbow.
Gazing into her upturned face, he brightens again. ‘Just some bits and pieces for the gym.’
‘More stuff for the gym?’
‘Just a couple of things.’
‘Mom’s going to kill you.’
‘Aha,’ smugly, ‘not so, because I’ve already taken care of that.’ He draws a smaller bag out of the larger and shakes it at her.
‘And what about me?’
‘What about you?’
‘It wouldn’t be fair if everyone got something except me.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, in that case.’
‘Let me look in the bag.’
‘I think not.’
‘Let me look – Daddy!’ She lunges for the bag, he hoists it out of her reach, matador-style, and Skippy takes a step backwards as the two of them become one giggling, wrestling mess. The woman from the kitchen appears in the doorway. She pauses there a moment, shooting a brief, expressionless glance at Skippy on the far side of the tussling couple; then, in a vampiric monotone, she announces, ‘Dinner is served.’ Lori’s dad and Lori split, gasping and emitting little leftover fragments of laughter.
‘Okay, Lilya, thank you,’ her dad says. ‘There, you little madam, though you don’t deserve it…’
He tosses Lori a shopping bag with a pair of lips on the side, and she lights up as she takes out a plastic case. ‘Oh, thank you, Daddy!’
‘Without make-up she looks like the back end of a bus,’ her dad winks at Skippy; and then sternly, to Lori, ‘But you can only wear it on special occasions, when your mum and I say you can, okay?’
‘Yes, Daddy.’ She nods earnestly, taking his hand and trotting alongside him into the dining room, with Skippy following behind.
They sit down at the table while the black-clad woman silently lays plates before them. ‘Isn’t this nice?’ Lori’s mum says. ‘I can’t think of the last time we all sat down for a meal together.’
‘Daddy’s always working,’ Lori tells Skippy.
‘Someone has to pay for all this, don’t they?’ Lori’s dad says, through a mouthful of food. ‘You girls seem to think it just drops out of the sky.’ Lori and her mum make identical eye-rolling motions. ‘So what kind of racket’s your dad in, Daniel?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Your dad, what does he do?’
‘Oh – he’s an engineer.’
‘How about your mum? Is she working too?’ Across the table his tanned arms flex as he saws into his chop,
‘She’s a Montessori teacher. Well, not right now, but…’
‘That’s great. And how are you enjoying school?’
‘It’s okay,’ Skippy says.
‘Daniel’s one of the smartest boys in his year,’ Lori says.
‘Good for you,’ her dad says. ‘So what kind of career do you see yourself in, Daniel?’
Lori’s mum, laughing, lays down her fork with a clink on the plate. ‘Gavin, give the boy a chance to eat his food!’
‘What do you mean?’ Lori’s dad says. ‘We’re simply having a conversation, that’s all.’
‘You’re interrogating him. In a minute he’ll start burning your feet with cigarettes,’ Lori’s mum twinkles at Skippy.
‘I’m simply trying to find out a little bit about him,’ Lori’s dad rejoins. ‘God forbid I should want to try and find out a little bit about the boy my daughter’s been out roaming the streets with for the last month –’
‘I wasn’t roaming the streets,’ Lori says, flushing.
‘Well, you weren’t watching Buff y at Janine’s, were you?’
Wait a second – what?
‘Leave her alone, Gavin,’ her mom reproves.
‘I just think it’d be nice to have some idea what your own child –’
‘We’ve been through all this – oh, now look.’
Lori’s head is bowed, and jerks with sobs.
‘Oh sweetheart… sweetie, I didn’t mean…’ He extends his hand across the table, lays it in Lori’s sparkling black hair. She doesn’t respond; a tear splashes down into her half-eaten meal.
‘Oh God,’ he says heavily. ‘Look, I honestly don’t see what the fuss is about. Myself and Dan are getting along famously, aren’t we, Dan?’
‘Yes,’ says Skippy. There is a tense silence, filled only by Lori’s snuffles. He clears his throat. ‘Actually, I think I’d like to design video games. When I grow up?’