‘Mr Bryce?’ he said. ‘Hello. Continent Containers.’
He looked at me as if I should know what he meant. I didn’t.
‘Skip-hire provider.’ He extended a hand. His smile was warm, professional.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Not Mr Bryce.’
‘Could I speak to Mr Bryce?’
‘There’s no Mr Bryce,’ I said. ‘I’m Alex Mercer. And I’ve never hired a skip in my life.’
‘Strange,’ said the man. He looked down at his clipboard. ‘All right.’ He took out a mobile phone.
‘You’ll have to excuse me,’ I said. ‘We’ve a lot on.’
‘OK, sir. Thanks, anyway.’
I closed the door. Millicent returned from the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I get that you’re being brave for me, and for Max. And I hate that you guys had to see what you saw.’
‘I could have stopped him from seeing and I didn’t.’
‘I know, honey, but I’m guessing you were in shock.’
‘I laughed. I actually laughed.’
‘That would be a classic shock reaction, right there. You’re a good father, Alex. Your instinct is to protect. I know it. Max knows it.’
‘I failed. Max saw everything.’
‘OK, Alex. Yes, we do need to discuss that.’ She breathed out heavily.
‘My honest guess? Max is going to fall apart a little.’
I sat on the sofa, bit hard into my knuckle.
What have I done?
‘Alex, honey, he’s going to need to do this. It isn’t the end of the world. We have the summer.’ Millicent sat down beside me.
‘To let our son fall apart? We sit and watch while our son has a breakdown? Have him back on his feet and ready for school by September?’
‘We break his fall, Alex. There’s a logic to these things. We listen to him when he needs to talk, and we help him to pick up the pieces when – if – he falls apart. It’s a process. He’ll be OK. We’re good parents. We’ll find him a good shrink.’
‘That’s our summer?’
‘That’s our summer.’
‘What about work?’
Seventy hours of footage on my laptop. Another shoot to plan.
‘You can still go,’ she said.
‘I can’t. You’re going to need me here.’
Two weeks in America. An eight-week edit. How was that going to work?
‘Sure you can, Alex. Max and I always manage.’
Voices through the wall again. I could see the sinews in Millicent’s neck stiffen. ‘Huh,’ she said. ‘I thought they left already. I guess I’m still a little jumpy.’
‘Who wouldn’t be?’
‘Why are you so sweet to me?’ she said, her eyes searching my face.
‘I’m not,’ I said.
‘You are.’ She pushed me gently backwards and down on to the sofa. Then she lay down and folded herself into me, her back to my chest, legs entangling mine.
‘Max will be OK, Alex. With the right support he’s going to be just fine.’
‘How can you know?’
‘Children are resilient.’
‘I should be here,’ I said.
She turned, arching her back, and found my mouth with hers. Her eyes didn’t flick away as she kissed me: none of that reticence now. I lay on my side and she moved to accommodate me, my body cradling hers. She lifted my hand across her breasts, pushed her thighs gently back against mine. I could feel the weight in my limbs now, feel the tension easing from her body.
We lay like this for some time. I pushed gently back against her, not wanting to break the moment.
‘Millicent?’ I said at last. ‘Love?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Will this be anything like Sarah?’
‘No,’ said Millicent, her voice heavy with the promise of sleep. ‘No, Alex, this will be nothing like Sarah.’
I woke in the middle of the afternoon, stiff of neck and leg. I had been lying on my left arm, and could hardly feel it. I flexed the hand underneath me, felt it move slightly; an alien thing, a part of me that wasn’t.
When I raised my head I saw that Max was lying in front of Millicent. Her arms were tightly wound around him, and he too was asleep. He must have let himself in and climbed on to the sofa to join us. Millicent had rearranged my right arm so that I was cradling both of them. Or perhaps Max had done it himself. The three of us on our cramped little sofa. My little tribe. How had he managed to sleep without falling off?
I raised my feet so they were on top of the sofa back, then gently freed my arm from around Max. I pushed my back as gently as I could away from Millicent. She murmured something that I didn’t understand. Sleep talk, I guessed. Probably nothing.
With my right arm I pulled the rest of my body up so that I was balanced sideways on the sofa back. I brought my left leg down to the floor behind the sofa, then my right.
I heard voices through the wall again. Were they really not finished?
I stood up too quickly, saw stars falling past my eyes, felt my left arm tingle as the blood returned. I stood, massaging my arm in the space behind the sofa, glad that no one could see the strangeness of the scene. Then I held my breath and slid out along the wall behind the sofa.
I brought my head down to Millicent’s. ‘Love?’
‘Mmm? Hey.’
‘You have room now.’
‘Mmm,’ she said, and relaxed backwards into the space I had made for her, pulling Max gently with her. Max’s eyes flickered open and for a moment I thought he was awake, but he screwed himself even tighter, pulled Millicent’s arm firmly about him, and slept on.
Little Max-Man, I thought. Catch you when you fall.
A knock at the door. The police, I thought. It could only be the police. I wondered for a moment about not answering. What would happen then? How long would they knock for before they let us alone? But this had to be faced.
Another police officer. She wore a neat two-piece suit, and carried a leather briefcase exactly like the officer who had spoken to Max.
‘Mr Mercer?’ she said, and held out her hand. I’m fairly certain that she told me her name, but I have no memory of what it was.
‘You want to speak to me about finding the neighbour?’
‘That’s right. I do.’
‘And in principle yes,’ I said.
She looked puzzled.
‘Now isn’t good. Could we please schedule this?’ I kept my voice as level as I could. ‘That really would be much more convenient.’
‘Schedule?’ she said. ‘I’m not really sure I understand.’
I opened the door wide so that she could see Max and Millicent asleep on the sofa.
‘Oh,’ she mouthed.
‘He’s exhausted,’ I said.
‘I can see that,’