Just when I’m about to call her out on her OCD, Max bumbles into the picture. He’s slouched over in the foyer.
‘Shepherd,’ he shouts up at me, ‘why don’t you like Cheshire?’
‘I like the cat.’
Another lie cashed into the bank.
That furry shit sneaks into my room when I open the door. Can’t get Goldilocks to piss off. The little git keeps covering my room and clean clothes in ginger hairs.
‘So why don’t you care that he’s dead?’ Max says. ‘You are the owner. You should take care of all the people who live here. That’s what mummy says your job is. Cheshire is a people who lives here, too.’
‘He isn’t dead,’ I tell him. ‘Now go back inside your room and wait for him.’
I want Max to get lost. I don’t want Amy to finish her checks, run into her room, lock it. I don’t want her to get away from me.
‘He hasn’t pooped today,’ Max says. ‘He always poops first thing in the morning and I can’t find him.’
I stand facing him with my arms crossed. ‘Look, I don’t know. You ever thought he hasn’t been to the toilet yet?’
But Max is serious. ‘He is dead.’
‘He isn’t.’
‘He is. Have you seen him around the building today?’
‘No. I’ve been out.’
‘What about yesterday?’
‘I wasn’t here much yesterday, kid.’
‘Exactly. You’re a poor witness. He’s dead.’
‘Max, Cheshire isn’t dead.’
Not like his dad or my mum.
‘Kid, go back to your room.’
Max runs into his room and slams the door. I feel Amy’s eyes burn mine with boiling water.
‘What?’ I spit.
‘Nothing.’
My back to the foyer, I hear the front door open, can hear the howling February wind come in from the outside. Max must’ve gone outside.
‘What?’ I say. The way she looks at me makes my eyes scratch.
‘Maybe . . . maybe you could not jump right in and tell him he’s wrong, when you don’t know if he’s wrong.’ She starts picking at the chipped paint on her door. ‘I haven’t seen the cat. Where is it?’
My back hits the wall behind. The cold seeps through my leather jacket and I scowl. ‘Maybe it’s gone back to Wonderland. Hell, like I care.’
Through the front door, I can hear Max ring the bell. Percussive, old, like a school bell. The vibrations knock around inside my head.
I hear Amy swallowing as though something thick blocks her throat. I can hear a crow croak from outside.
Max rings the bell again. No other sound from the estate.
‘The cat has a life,’ I say. ‘Isn’t it mating season?’
‘Maybe so.’
‘You think Max is right?’
‘I . . . I just don’t think he’s necessarily wrong.’
The bell is still ringing through the wall. Max must be leaning against the bell push. Amy’s watching me.
As a young kid, I saw the world differently. I never knew my dad, but I missed him. Missed the missing parts of me. Sometimes that made me angry. When I got angry, I kicked off. When I kicked off, the children’s home shut me away in the cellar until the next day. That is what they always did.
‘Jesus Christ, alright. Okay,’ I say.
I go outside and find Max. He’s leaning against the brass bell push.
‘Kid, didn’t mean to shout at you, alright. We good?’
‘It’s okay. We good.’ He takes his weight off the bell push. The ringing stops. Then he fist-bumps me. ‘Do you think he could be dead, though?’
I look across the courtyard. Devil’s Thirst looks haunted, like some monster lurks underneath the lake. The bitter coldness of the day lies heavy in the air, the sky a dirty grey, the atmosphere thick. In an hour, the sun will be down.
‘Look, Max-man, he’s fine. I’ll help you look for him. Amy too.’
I order Amy to help us search. Screw her checks. They can wait. Twenty minutes later, I find Cheshire in the back garden, stuck up a willow tree. Max sprints my way. I’m cradling the cat like it’s some kind of furry baby. I extend the filthy animal out with my hands.
‘Take it, it stinks,’ I say to Max.
Max grabs the fur-ball, and squeezes Cheshire so hard, I think he’s gonna strangle the thing. But then Max plops Cheshire onto the grass and lunges at me with a hug. He holds me so tight, like the kid’s scared I’m gonna be off in the wind.
Shit.
The way Max is starting to look at me unnerves me. Like I’m some kind of father figure.
How the hell can that happen in the space of a few weeks?
When Amy excuses herself and locks herself up in her tower, she leaves me and Max alone in the foyer.
‘I call Amy, Mamy. Like Mum and Amy stuck together. Amy said I was real clever with that. Anyway, Harry has two mums but they live together. Mary May said it was sin. But Mary May always talks funny, like from the bible and stuff. But she’s not even Christian, she’s Jewish. Mary May is all kinds of weird. Anyhoo, can you be like my Bro-Dad? You’re too cool to be called Dad. Then I’ll have two mummies and one cool daddy. I’ll be the richest kid in the world.’
The kid breaks my fucking heart.
20
YOU
Some weekends are good. Others, not so. Certain dates are good. I can only go for walks around the lake on even-numbered days. If the 13th falls on a weekend, I can’t do anything at all. On odd-numbered days, I can exercise, but only if it’s raining.
All of this is to keep the pieces of my brain together like a jigsaw. Day and night, my brain is like an old movie reel,
