does love to rub things around, you know, like jam or ketchup or toothpaste. Anything spreadable. Sometimes I take her out to the studio and let her use my paints.” He paused. A smile crossed his lips, and he chuckled. “Boy, did she make a beaut of a mess a couple of weeks ago. She got up and no one heard her. The next morning we went downstairs to the kitchen and found she’d opened the freezer and taken every single item out and laid it on the floor. She’d taken the lids off the ice cream, and it was spread all over the tiles. God, you never saw anything like it.”
There was an oddly indulgent tone in his voice. I think I would have been a bit more appalled to lose the contents of my freezer in that manner.
“What does your wife think of all this?” I asked.
“Oh, it was her fault. She didn’t remember to lock the freezer.”
“No, I mean, in general. Doesn’t she mind that Leslie does this kind of thing?”
He shrugged. “Ladbrooke gets impatient with the mess sometimes. But like I said, Ladbrooke isn’t the world’s most patient person. She has no real understanding of kids. I try to explain to her that Leslie needs this. I think it’s expression for Leslie. Besides, Ladbrooke has household help. She doesn’t need to worry about the mess. I wouldn’t stick her with that.”
“I see.”
There was a small silence. Mr. Considyne looked down at his hands and then over in my direction without looking directly at me. He smiled sheepishly. “I’m rambling on, aren’t I? You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t get a chance to talk about Leslie very much. Most people don’t understand really, do they? Most people aren’t very interested.”
“That’s all right. I’m definitely interested. This gives me a much clearer picture.”
“God, I love that child,” he said. “It’s hard to explain to people. All they see are her defects. But if I had to admit it, I’d say I love her more than my two normal kids. She’s so pure. So untainted. She just feels and does. There’s no inhibition. No fucking intellect. Just purity. A completely natural person.” Then he paused and shook his head. “But that’s not to say she’s not a challenge some days.”
“I don’t think most people realize what living with a child like Leslie entails,” I said.
“No,” he replied in a very heartfelt way.
A small silence came. I could hear the wind pick up beyond the window. I’d opened it slightly after school to let in a little fresh air, and now the silence was filled with a greedy, sucking sound.
“Do you have help specifically for Leslie?”
“We have Consuela. She’s not really just for Leslie. She’s a cook and housekeeper, in fact, but she spends a lot of time with Leslie.”
I nodded.
“Consuela’s been with us forever. I don’t know what we’d do without her. She makes the difference between sanity and insanity around our place more often than I’d care to admit. I’m afraid Ladbrooke isn’t exactly what you’d call domesticated. We’d all fall apart without Consuela. And she has the patience of Job with Leslie, with all of us.”
“Does she sleep in Leslie’s room?”
“No. No, she has her own rooms at the other end of the house.”
“Who gets up with Leslie then, when she does all this waking?”
“We do. My wife and I.”
“And this is every single night?”
He nodded.
I scribbled a note of this on the upper edge of Leslie’s file.
“I suppose, if I’m honest, I have to admit Ladbrooke does most of the getting up. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. Most nights I never hear her.”
Another small silence intruded. Mr. Considyne reached out to finger one of the papers on the table.
“When did your wife give up her work?” I asked.
“Quite a while back now. Three and a half years, maybe.”
“What made her decide to stop?”
“Her project ended. She’s a physicist, you know, and she was doing some experimental work with some other people at Princeton
There was an oddly indulgent tone in his voice. I think I would have been a bit more appalled to lose the contents of my freezer in that manner.
“What does your wife think of all this?” I asked.
“Oh, it was her fault. She didn’t remember to lock the freezer.”
“No, I mean, in general. Doesn’t she mind that Leslie does this kind of thing?”
He shrugged. “Ladbrooke gets impatient with the mess sometimes. But like I said, Ladbrooke isn’t the world’s most patient person. She has no real understanding of kids. I try to explain to her that Leslie needs this. I think it’s expression for Leslie. Besides, Ladbrooke has household help. She doesn’t need to worry about the mess. I wouldn’t stick her with that.”
“I see.”
There was a small silence. Mr. Considyne looked down at his hands and then over in my direction without looking directly at me. He smiled sheepishly. “I’m rambling on, aren’t I? You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t get a chance to talk about Leslie very much. Most people don’t understand really, do they? Most people aren’t very interested.”
“That’s all right. I’m definitely interested. This gives me a much clearer picture.”
“God, I love that child,” he said. “It’s hard to explain to people. All they see are her defects. But if I had to admit it, I’d say I love her more than my two normal kids. She’s so pure. So untainted. She just feels and does. There’s no inhibition. No fucking intellect. Just purity. A completely natural person.” Then he paused and shook his head. “But that’s not to say she’s not a challenge some days.”
“I don’t think most people realize what living with a child like Leslie entails,” I said.
“No,” he replied in a very heartfelt way.
A small silence came. I could hear the wind pick up beyond the window. I’d opened it slightly after school to let in a little fresh air, and now the silence was filled with a greedy, sucking sound.
“Do you have help specifically for Leslie?”
“We have Consuela. She’s not really just for Leslie. She’s a cook and housekeeper, in fact, but she spends a lot of time with Leslie.”
I nodded.
“Consuela’s been with us forever. I don’t know what we’d do without her. She makes the difference between sanity and insanity around our place more often than I’d care to admit. I’m afraid Ladbrooke isn’t exactly what you’d call domesticated. We’d all fall apart without Consuela. And she has the patience of Job with Leslie, with all of us.”
“Does she sleep in Leslie’s room?”
“No. No, she has her own rooms at the other end of the house.”
“Who gets up with Leslie then, when she does all this waking?”
“We do. My wife and I.”
“And this is every single night?”
He nodded.
I scribbled a note of this on the upper edge of Leslie’s file.
“I suppose, if I’m honest, I have to admit Ladbrooke does most of the getting up. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. Most nights I never hear her.”
Another small silence intruded. Mr. Considyne reached out to finger one of the papers on the table.
“When did your wife give up her work?” I asked.
“Quite a while back now. Three and a half years, maybe.”
“What made her decide to stop?”
“Her project ended. She’s a physicist, you know, and she was doing some experimental work with some other people at Princeton
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