What followed was a lot of questioning, some of it from the police, but most of it from Mum. I just continued saying "I don't know. I'm sorry," and cried a bit here and there. Mum cried too, and even Harriet joined in a bit. Dad was almost entirely silent the whole time.
The police took a brief statement from me and said that, given my difficult circumstances, they wouldn't charge me with wasting police time. I had to pay for the new door myself though. Fair enough, I suppose.
When Mum asked if I would still come to the nature reserve, I said,
"I don't know. I'm sorry. Tomorrow?"
Mum got agitated.
"We're not coming here one day for nothing then driving back home, then coming straight back here tomorrow. How do we know that won't be for nothing too!?"
"Elaine," said Dad plainly, in a surprisingly effective attempt to cool her down.
"I think you'll feel better if you come out for a bit, David," Dad continued, "We won't force you, but..."
He was doing well, I was finding myself persuaded, but he gave up anyway.
I cried a bit more.
Eventually, a plan was agreed upon. Mat would call an emergency repair service for the door, and he would wait at the flat to let the man in, keep an eye on him, sign things and so on. Meanwhile the rest of us would go get lunch at the nature reserve café and, if I felt like it after I'd been fed, I could join them for a stroll. This was all agreed among the four of us. Only then did Harriet call Mat and tell him theplan.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Man Of Few Words
सामान्य साहित्यOne man's painful yet funny search for meaning in a life about to be cut short. Cancer has made David Alexander's whole existence suddenly seem worthless. But is it?
