Free Small Holdings by Nicola Barker

because they’ve already lead me astray . . .’He inhaled deeply. ‘You can only match this kind of gesture,’ he indicated towards the mess and the mud with a grand sweep of his arm, ‘you clan only match this kind of gesture with an even bigger gesture of your own.’
    I weighed up this notion in my mind. An even bigger gesture. I didn’t really get it but I knew it wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing. I said, ‘We could call that kind of response an escalation, Doug, and I don’t know if things that go up, things that get bigger, are always . . . uh . . . good.’
    Doug appreciated my insight but would have none of it. ‘Nope,’ he said, determinedly, ‘getting bigger. That’s the natural order of things . . . Clarity,’ he added, ‘cleanness. Big and neat. That’s what I’m after.’
    My nose was still bleeding and my shirt sleeves were about as soaked as they could get. I yanked up my shirt-front and put it to use.
    ‘Shall we start cleaning this stuff up?’ I asked, through the blood and fabric.
    ‘I don’t think so,’ Doug said, ‘I think you should go back to the house and change your shirt. That much blood doesn’t look respectable. Consider the feelings of the park users. Clean up.’
    I didn’t want to leave him. Something in my stomach told me not to. I said, ‘I don’t like to leave you alone in the middle of this mess.’
    Doug opened the door for me. ‘Give me a minute,’ he said,’ ‘to be privet. I need to be privet for a moment or two. Get washed up.’
    I walked past him, shuffled past him, out through the door.
    Ray was in the kitchen, standing next to the oven and peering into a pan. In one hand he held the saucepan’s lid, with his other chubby paw he pulled at his bottom lip, yanking it halfway down his chin.
    ‘Ray, Did you see Saleem and Nancy yet?’
    Ray - deep in his own thoughts - hadn’t heard me come in. He jumped like a scalded cat and dropped the saucepan’s lid when I spoke and then managed to frighten himself again with the clatter that it made. He bent down and picked it up.
    ‘Uh, I saw Saleem. She’s upstairs. She’s searching through Doug’s room for evidence.’
    ‘Evidence?’
    ‘Order forms and stuff. Receipts. I think that’s what she said.’ He stared at me. ‘Where did all that blood come from?’
    ‘My nose.’
    ‘Wu got you.’
    ‘Yes.‘
    ‘Again.’
    ‘Yes.‘
    ‘How’s Doug?’
    ‘Not good.’
    Ray fitted the lid back onto the saucepan. He stared over towards the window. ‘I’ve got loads to do. I want to finish that gatepost this morning and I swore to Doug I’d weed the tennis courts.’
    ‘I think Doug’s got bigger things on his mind at present than the tennis courts.’
    Ray scratched his beard. I added, ‘I also think we should consider telling Nancy not to go to Southend today for any more privet. We both know the park can’t afford it.’
    Ray leaned his weight against the oven and shifted it, unintentionally, an inch closer to the wall.
    ‘But the problem is,’ I said, hoping for some kind of response, ‘I don’t know if we can really risk antagonising Doug any further. He’s already slightly . . . overwrought.’ Ray carried on scratching his beard. ‘What do you think?’
    Ray picked up the roll of kitchen towel and tossed it over to me. ‘Have you tried pinching the top of your nose? That might stop it bleeding.’
    Saleem came in clutching a folder and a bundle of papers. She threw them on to the table. ‘There,’ she said, ‘I knew he’d started keeping some of this stuff upstairs. He’s getting paranoid. Being secretive’s a real symptom of it. Right, let’s split this lot up between us and see what we can find.’
    I looked over towards the door. ‘Doug might come back here at any time.’
    Saleem smiled, ‘We’re OK. Nancy’s on lookout.’
    Ray stayed over by the oven, like he didn’t want any part of looking through the papers. Saleem pulled out a chair and placed herself squarely