Free Games People Play by Louise Voss Page B

worried.’
    ‘Mmmm.’
    ‘You know Elsie – well, you know what a nosy old bag she is? She – er – thinks she saw some people turn up here early yesterday morning. I mean, maybe she was mistaken and it was next door, but—’
    ‘Jehovah’s Witnesses,’ he says, his back to me. His dressing gown is frayed and striped in black and red.
    He’s had it as long as I can remember, although the black stripes have got lighter and the red ones darker, as if they’re trying to swap places.
    ‘You let Jehovah’s Witnesses in? Elsie said they were here for a couple of hours!’ I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice. Gordana is quite a staunch Catholic, and it has always been a source of sorrow to her that her son is the biggest atheist this side of Hades. Whenever any Jehovah’s Witnesses have had the temerity to mount our doorstep in the past, the whole street has heard the sound of Dad banging the front door in their faces.
    ‘Decided I might as well hear what they had to say,’ he says sheepishly, with a weary shrug.
    I stare at him, speechless. ‘No wonder you had a migraine by the afternoon.’
    ‘Yeah. Tea?’ He reaches down three mugs, and throws in teabags.
    ‘Yes please. But Elsie said that you got in their car?’
    He tuts furiously. ‘That bloody woman needs to get a life.’
    ‘ Did you get in their car? What, have you been converted or something? Is that what all this is about?’
    He turns to face me, eyes bulging, dressing gown open to the waist to reveal his scrubby black-haired chest. I know he’s my dad and everything, so obviously I’m not looking at him in that way, but I really can’t see why women fall over themselves to get to him. Mum, OK, maybe that’s understandable – it was twenty-four years ago, and he was young and successful and had all his hair then. But it’s a mystery to me why they still go for him. And right now he’s looking as rough as I’ve ever seen him.
    ‘Rachel! Will you please stop interrogating me! Turns out I went to school with one of them – we used to be quite friendly actually. That’s the only reason I let them in. Then when I said I had to go to work, they offered me a lift. I knew I’d be drinking at the party later, so I accepted the lift, rather than taking the car to work and having to leave it there. Then I felt ill in the afternoon, so Anthea came and picked me up again. It’s really no big deal. I can’t understand why everyone is making such a fuss.’
    I wonder who ‘everyone’ is. ‘I didn’t see you at the club yesterday,’ I say in a small voice.
    ‘ Rachel! ’ he snaps again, in the tone he used when I was a kid and kept using an incorrect grip for my backhand volleys. ‘I really don’t see why I have to explain myself to you, or anyone else. I was there yesterday, I just had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so I was in the office most of the time, until my head got too bad to continue. Now, if you could just shut up long enough for me to have my breakfast in peace, I’d really be most grateful.’
    He hands me a mug of terracotta-coloured tea. He always makes it too strong, and I always have to add more milk.
    I add more milk. ‘It’s my birthday today,’ I say, trying to sound just huffy enough.
    He has the grace to pause. ‘Oh, Rach, sorry, of course. I did remember, just what with the… migraine and everything, it slipped my mind. Sorry, darling. Happy birthday.’
    He enfolds me in a reluctant hug, and I have to hold my breath as my head gets pressed into his shoulder.
    ‘Thanks, Dad,’ I say in a muffled voice. ‘Gordana and Pops gave me a voucher for the art shop.’
    ‘That’s nice,’ he replies, away in his own world again. We pour and eat cereal.
    ‘Are you well enough to come to Zurich today, or should we cancel your flight?’ I venture after a few minutes.
    ‘No, I’ll come. As long as Anthea doesn’t mind. And I’ll have to get some sleep today, I’m shattered.’
    This was odd, too.