were kicked in and hanging on their hinges – and when she reached the door that had the name RONNIE painted on it in big, clumsy letters, she stopped, took a deep breath and knocked. ‘Ronnie! It’s me, Susie. Open up.’
After a few more determined knocks and a series of loud shouts through the letter-box, the door slowly inched open, to reveal Ronnie’s unshaven face. ‘I thought I told you never to come here,’ he said in a surly voice. ‘It’s not safe for a woman on her own.’
Susie pushed past him into the sitting room. ‘You know what they say: if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed and all that?’
He glared at her. ‘What d’you want, sis?’
‘What do you think I want?’
‘I won’t know if you don’t tell me.’ Scratching his head, he sauntered across the room. ‘Banging on the door, yelling through the letter-box like a crazy woman!’
Ignoring his rantings, Susie instructed him to get dressed.
‘I am dressed!’
Shaking her head, she regarded his appearance: the shirt-tail hanging out, the crumpled trousers and the hair standing on end. ‘I’m not taking you out to the spread looking like that,’ she said. ‘You’ve got ten minutes,’ she warned. ‘I want you washed and dressed and fit to sit at the table with ordinary human beings.’
‘I’m not going to Mom’s house.’
‘You are!’
‘No, I’m not. And there’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind.’
‘All right then.’ Hands on hips she gave it her best shot. ‘What if I was to say that if you don’t come with me now, I will never visit you again? I’ll forget I ever had a brother called Ronnie, and when you need me – which you frequently do – I’ll refuse to see you. I’ll cut you out of my life and leave you to sulk and hide and feel sorry for yourself, and when they drag your worthless body out of here, with your clothes stuck to your back, your teeth all rotten and your hair all gone, I’ll look the other way and make out I don’t even know you. Now then, what d’you say to that?’
Ronnie burst out laughing. ‘You’re a lunatic!’ But he loved her. When he didn’t want his mother to know how deep he had sunk, and Thomas was driven to distraction, it was always Susie he turned to, always Susie who would sit for hours and listen to his sorry tale, and never judge or condemn. She simply came to his rescue, without question or reprimand. But not today. Today it seemed he had overstepped the mark with her.
Susie cocked a thumb towards the bathroom. ‘I assume you have soap and water?’
‘Somewhere, I suppose.’
‘Then go wash!’
Ronnie was still laughing at her previous remark. ‘I think I’d better,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to end up being dragged out of here with my clothes glued to my back … no teeth, no hair … whatever would the neighbours say?’ Then: ‘You’d make a good horror-writer, sis. I have to say, you certainly paint a gruesome picture.’
Still chuckling, he made his way to the bathroom, where he ran the tap and stripped off, with the intention of making himself respectable.
While he was splashing and scrubbing, Susie’s voice sailed in from the other room. ‘This place is a disgrace! The holes in the carpet, if you can call it that, are filled with cigarette butts, the springs in the sofa are poking through, and the curtains are hanging by a thread.’ There was a pause while she ran the tip of her finger along the window-sill. ‘Dust an inch thick everywhere. Dirty socks in the corner. The place stinks to high heaven. How in God’s name can you live in a dump like this?’
While she went about the room tidying everything away, Ronnie mimicked her in the bedroom, where he was sorting a decent pair of trousers from the pile on the bed. ‘The place stinks … dirty socks, raggedy curtains, holes in the carpet.’ He chuckled, ‘I should think myself lucky to have a carpet – not everybody round here has that luxury.’
A moment later he burst out of the bedroom. ‘Right then, kiddo, do I look human enough?’ He made a handsome figure; tall and slim, with his thick mop of fair hair brushed back from his face, which was now shining clean and free of whiskers.
Susie approved of the new Ronnie. ‘Where did you get the trousers from?’
‘I’ve had them for ages, why?’
‘They’re too big.’ Susie observed how the belt was too long to fit the buckle-prong into the holes, so it was wrapped round and round, with the tail end tucked into the pocket of his trousers.
‘I’ve lost weight.’ Thrusting his hands into the pockets, Ronnie looked set for a confrontation. ‘So now you’re about to have a go at me for that, are you? No doubt you’d rather have me fat and flabby with drooping jowls and a huge belly hanging over my belt.’
‘Oh, don’t be silly!’
‘You’re right, I am silly. Silly to think that somewhere in that hard heart of yours, you might find a snippet of praise for the effort I’ve made.’
‘Is that the only belt you’ve got?’
‘ ’Fraid so.’
With time marching on, Susie was considering how she could rectify the situation. ‘Have you by any chance got a pair of scissors?’
‘Nope.’
‘A sharp knife then?’
‘Nope.’
‘What do you use to cut your cheese?’
‘I don’t. I just take a bite whenever I feel the urge.’
‘That’s disgusting!’
‘No, it’s not.’ He cocked his head. ‘You should try it,’ he advised. ‘It tastes better when you tear off a chunk with your teeth.’
While he ranted on, teasing and taunting, Susie dug into her handbag. ‘Got it!’ Brandishing a pair of nail scissors, she advanced on him with a determined gleam in her eye.
‘Hey!’ Backing off, Ronnie demanded to know what she was about.
‘Stand still, and stop your moaning!’ Grabbing hold of him, she whipped the belt from his trousers and while he struggled to hold them up, she gouged a couple more holes in the belt. ‘Here, try it now.’
He slid the belt round his waist and was delighted to find that it fitted snugly with the new holes. ‘You’re not just a pretty face, are you, sis?’
Snipping off the tag end of the belt, she stepped back to view her handiwork. ‘There – that looks better.’ Grabbing his jacket from the chair she threw it to him. ‘We’d best get going, or we’ll miss dinner altogether.’
He frowned. ‘Do I have to come?’
Her answer was to drag him out of the door. ‘If anybody needs a good meal inside him, it’s you. So come on, move yourself, and when you get there don’t sulk in a corner, and don’t refuse the drink Leonard is bound to offer you.’
As they went down the fire-escape to the sidewalk she was still giving out her orders. ‘… And don’t drink too much, or you’ll only end up saying the wrong thing.’
‘Gee, Suze, I never knew you were such a nag!’
‘Get in the car.’ In minutes she had him inside with the door shut, and after scrambling into the driver’s seat she went off down the road at such a speed he hung on to his seat for dear life. ‘Slow down, you’re driving like a damned lunatic!’
‘Rubbish! I’m only doing fifty miles an hour.’
‘That’s what I mean. I’m too young to die.’
The banter continued all the way out of town