54 292
Adam Thorpe
54
Suzie doesn’t reply. Her
mum loves
Escape to the
Country.
It makes her
feel smug because she’s
already there. ‘Then it’s
no escape, Mum.’ ‘What,
pet?’ ‘You have to have
summat to escape
from
.’
‘Fire and air, she is,’ the
little homophobic prick
who is her lover-boy
murmurs, nodding ever so
slightly.
‘Oh my God,’ she groans,
part-serious.
‘With a ring, not a stud.’
‘I’m going to sleep, please,
because there’s no tea and
I need to vanish.’
‘In
her
navel.
Her
Shakespeare Country. A
silver ring on her umber
skin.’
She stares at him. His
eyes are closed again. He
is still smiling, but as if to
himself. The train driver
is pulling out all the stops
because they are very late
and he’s anxious for his
job and, oh yes by the way
he’s a psychopath but no
one spotted it. It is too
loud and they are swaying
and the tracks smack and
clatter and the noise is
worse than the dentist’s.
She has to press herself
to Jasper to hear what he
is saying, now. She feels
afraid of the ice. She can’t
go taking a wee when
they’re going this fast,
she’d be found with her
knickers down, although
probably headless. Dead
man’s handle, is it, if the
driver has a heart attack
or a stroke like her dad?
Jasper could easily end
up in the aisle, even, if he
passes out. Why should he
pass out? No chems for a
week. Full functionality,
both of them.
‘Makes you want to pull