Black Chalk полностью

But Dee pushed him away. ‘No, Jolyon, I won’t listen to either of you. We killed him. We all killed him and now it’s over. I’m out. I quit. I told Chad already, I don’t care what he says to me. It’s finished, you both have to see that. And if you don’t, then I don’t care about either of you.’ She looked at Jolyon for confirmation that he understood but Jolyon was looking down at the ground, his eyes darting back and forth as if following his thoughts while they fell in neat piles all around him. Dee was out, the worst was over. And maybe he didn’t need to confess, perhaps he had the strength to fight the words, to hold them in.

‘I hate you,’ Dee cried out, ‘I hate you both,’ she said. And then Dee threw herself against him, at first with her fists to his chest, but then her hands began to climb. Up to his neck, his chin. And then Dee held Jolyon’s face between her hands and kissed him desperately. He felt her teeth sharp against his lips, the taste of her tears. And finally Dee pushed him away. She sat back in the armchair, not looking at him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Jolyon,’ said Dee, ‘I’m sorry.’

But Jolyon didn’t know whether Dee was sorry for all she had done to him or sorry for kissing him. And he never did get to ask her, it was the last time they would speak for nearly fourteen years. Because just then there was a knocking on the door. And before Jolyon could answer, Chad was coming into the room.

LXVI(ii) Dee glared at him as he stood by the door trying to find somewhere to place his hands. Hips, pockets, the back of his head. ‘This is terrible, just terrible,’ said Chad. And then he became angry. ‘But there are people out there who barely even knew him,’ he said, pointing distantly. ‘You should see them, the wailing and . . . they barely even knew him.’ Jolyon was sitting on the floor by his bed, knees apart, head hung low. ‘I spoke to Shortest,’ said Chad, ‘and obviously we’re not going to go through with anything tomorrow.’

‘What?’ said Dee accusingly. ‘You did what? You’re already making plans? And why Shortest?’

Chad swallowed. ‘He’s just the one who answered the phone,’ he said. ‘They gave us a number a long time ago. You weren’t there, Dee.’

‘And was he upset? Or was he worried about getting caught up in something?’

‘No,’ said Chad, ‘I don’t think he was. Neither.’

Dee wiped her eyes, shook her head.

Jolyon looked at them looking at each other, his tormentors. Neither of them had seen his face, had noticed his fear and his horror, when Shortest’s name was mentioned.

Chad’s tongue hovered on his top lip. ‘So, we’re all going to meet next Sunday,’ he said. ‘Here at four, I guess. We have to . . . we have to wait a bit, let the dust settle.’

‘Let the dust settle?’ said Dee. ‘Oh, that’s nice, Chad. You mean post-cremation?’

‘No, I . . .’ Chad scratched the back of his head.

And Jolyon was watching them, watching. If Shortest had told Chad, then wouldn’t he say something? Or look at him knowingly? But Chad wasn’t looking across at him at all, Chad was only noticing Dee.

‘I already told you, I’m out,’ said Dee, hugging her shoulders. ‘How dare you even talk about this right now?’

‘Look, Dee,’ said Chad, ‘I’m really sorry. What I said to you on the phone, I shouldn’t have . . . I mean, we’re all just crazy upset right now.’

Jolyon locked his hands behind his head. Had Shortest really said nothing to Chad? Then perhaps he had a little more time, there might be a way out. And if Shortest had said nothing, what did everything mean? What was Shortest doing at Pitt?

‘Oh really, Chad?’ said Dee. ‘You’re crazy upset? And why’s that exactly?’

‘Because of Mark,’ said Chad, as if there were only one possible answer. Dee said nothing, she only stared hard at Chad. ‘Of course because of Mark,’ he repeated, ‘why else would I be upset?’ And then, although it seemed to Jolyon that Chad might be about to cry, something else happened. Instead of tears, Chad let out a short laugh. It was a wet sort of snort as if Chad were a schoolboy who had just spotted a double entendre in a textbook. And Jolyon had seen men at funerals laughing nervously like this – into the crooks of their arms, behind shielding hands – a diversion of emotion, the only alternative to breaking down, breast-beating and wailing, the public unleashing of all of their pain.

But as Jolyon looked at Dee he could tell that she did not see any ambiguity in Chad’s laughter. Dee looked shocked and appalled. What sort of a human being was this? What sort of monster? She got up hurriedly from the armchair and ran toward the door.

‘Dee?’ said Chad, catching her arm as she passed.

And then Dee turned and with a wild swing of her hand she hit Chad hard across the face. The sharp sound of the slap rang through the room.