fingers buckled and it slid out of her hands.
Gil felt the crash of the heavy plate smashing into the tiled floor like a physical shock, but it was Mum’s scream that really scared him. It was a scream like feedback through a
microphone. It hurt his eyes and the inside of his skull as well as his ears. And it didn’t stop. Dad sprang up from the table and looked at the smashed plate, the meat splattered on the
tiles. Then he looked at Gil.
Gil shook his head. ‘I didn’t . . .’ he started to say, but he couldn’t make himself heard above Mum. She was screaming, screaming, screaming, her hands hanging at her
sides, tears pouring down her face. Dad stepped over the mess of meat and crockery and put his arms around her. She didn’t move. She went on screaming.
‘Shhh, shhh,’ whispered Dad. ‘It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right.’
Mum’s scream gradually turned to sobbing. She howled into Dad’s chest. Please, make her stop, begged Gil inside his head. It was horrible to watch, like one of those news
reports with women wailing because their whole village has been wiped out by some catastrophe. He wanted to run away but he was pinned to the spot.
‘It’s all right,’ Dad said, over and over again. ‘It’s all right.’
‘I – I dropped – dropped it,’ she sobbed at last. ‘I dropped it, Matt. Oh God, I’m so scared. I’m getting so clumsy. And I forget things now – I
forget things all the time. Like yesterday, locking myself out. I’m so scared. I don’t think I can stand it. What am I going to do?’
‘It’s just a plate, Rachel,’ said Dad. ‘Everybody drops things sometimes. It’s completely normal.’
‘It was my mum’s plate.’ Mum started to cry again.
‘Look, perhaps it wasn’t you. Gil passed you the plate, didn’t he? Perhaps it was his fault.’
Dad turned his head towards Gil, and at once Gil opened his mouth to deny everything. But then he read Dad’s face properly and stopped, bewildered. Dad wasn’t accusing him of
anything. He was pleading with Gil to take the blame away from Mum.
‘Yeah, I wasn’t very careful, Mum,’ Gil said at last. ‘I’m sorry.’
He felt sick, as if he’d been blindfolded and spun round in a room he didn’t know. It was impossible to tell what was going on. Half an hour ago Dad had been stalking him like a lion
looking for a chance to pounce on its prey. Now he seemed to be begging Gil to join in with some kind of weird game to make Mum feel better. And there was Mum, crying like a baby in Dad’s
arms, when at lunchtime she’d stood up to Dad and told him to leave Gil alone.
What the hell were they doing to him?
Dad took Mum out of the kitchen. Gil listened to her sobs growing fainter as she went up the stairs. He knelt on the floor and began to pick up chunks of broken plate and put them in a carrier
bag one by one. After a while Dad came back and tapped him on the shoulder.
‘Leave it, Gil,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it later.’
Gil watched him go to the little medicine cupboard high up on the kitchen wall and take out a packet of tablets.
‘What’s wrong with Mum?’ Gil said.
‘She’s just upset, that’s all.’
‘Dad, it was a plate. She screamed like someone was trying to kill her.’
Dad fiddled with the tablets and didn’t reply.
‘Is she ill?’ asked Gil.
Nothing.
‘Dad, please tell me. I can handle it.’
‘No, I think she’s all right,’ said Dad at last. ‘Honestly, Gil, it’s nothing you need to worry about.’
‘So what are those tablets for?’
‘It’s just something to calm her down a bit.’ Dad slipped the little box into his pocket and turned away, but Gil had already seen the label.
‘It’s Valium, isn’t it?’ Gil said. ‘I know about Valium. We did it at school, in drug education.’
Dad didn’t look round. ‘Yes, it’s Valium. But Mum’s not taking it because she’s ill. She’s just got herself into a bit of a state and she needs a
Gil felt the crash of the heavy plate smashing into the tiled floor like a physical shock, but it was Mum’s scream that really scared him. It was a scream like feedback through a
microphone. It hurt his eyes and the inside of his skull as well as his ears. And it didn’t stop. Dad sprang up from the table and looked at the smashed plate, the meat splattered on the
tiles. Then he looked at Gil.
Gil shook his head. ‘I didn’t . . .’ he started to say, but he couldn’t make himself heard above Mum. She was screaming, screaming, screaming, her hands hanging at her
sides, tears pouring down her face. Dad stepped over the mess of meat and crockery and put his arms around her. She didn’t move. She went on screaming.
‘Shhh, shhh,’ whispered Dad. ‘It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right.’
Mum’s scream gradually turned to sobbing. She howled into Dad’s chest. Please, make her stop, begged Gil inside his head. It was horrible to watch, like one of those news
reports with women wailing because their whole village has been wiped out by some catastrophe. He wanted to run away but he was pinned to the spot.
‘It’s all right,’ Dad said, over and over again. ‘It’s all right.’
‘I – I dropped – dropped it,’ she sobbed at last. ‘I dropped it, Matt. Oh God, I’m so scared. I’m getting so clumsy. And I forget things now – I
forget things all the time. Like yesterday, locking myself out. I’m so scared. I don’t think I can stand it. What am I going to do?’
‘It’s just a plate, Rachel,’ said Dad. ‘Everybody drops things sometimes. It’s completely normal.’
‘It was my mum’s plate.’ Mum started to cry again.
‘Look, perhaps it wasn’t you. Gil passed you the plate, didn’t he? Perhaps it was his fault.’
Dad turned his head towards Gil, and at once Gil opened his mouth to deny everything. But then he read Dad’s face properly and stopped, bewildered. Dad wasn’t accusing him of
anything. He was pleading with Gil to take the blame away from Mum.
‘Yeah, I wasn’t very careful, Mum,’ Gil said at last. ‘I’m sorry.’
He felt sick, as if he’d been blindfolded and spun round in a room he didn’t know. It was impossible to tell what was going on. Half an hour ago Dad had been stalking him like a lion
looking for a chance to pounce on its prey. Now he seemed to be begging Gil to join in with some kind of weird game to make Mum feel better. And there was Mum, crying like a baby in Dad’s
arms, when at lunchtime she’d stood up to Dad and told him to leave Gil alone.
What the hell were they doing to him?
Dad took Mum out of the kitchen. Gil listened to her sobs growing fainter as she went up the stairs. He knelt on the floor and began to pick up chunks of broken plate and put them in a carrier
bag one by one. After a while Dad came back and tapped him on the shoulder.
‘Leave it, Gil,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it later.’
Gil watched him go to the little medicine cupboard high up on the kitchen wall and take out a packet of tablets.
‘What’s wrong with Mum?’ Gil said.
‘She’s just upset, that’s all.’
‘Dad, it was a plate. She screamed like someone was trying to kill her.’
Dad fiddled with the tablets and didn’t reply.
‘Is she ill?’ asked Gil.
Nothing.
‘Dad, please tell me. I can handle it.’
‘No, I think she’s all right,’ said Dad at last. ‘Honestly, Gil, it’s nothing you need to worry about.’
‘So what are those tablets for?’
‘It’s just something to calm her down a bit.’ Dad slipped the little box into his pocket and turned away, but Gil had already seen the label.
‘It’s Valium, isn’t it?’ Gil said. ‘I know about Valium. We did it at school, in drug education.’
Dad didn’t look round. ‘Yes, it’s Valium. But Mum’s not taking it because she’s ill. She’s just got herself into a bit of a state and she needs a
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