unable to distinguish her from the furniture, clambered right over her into the centre.
'Oh. But - Christ,' said Eva, fending off Justin's random, scything movements.
'Are you okay?'
'Oh, it's terribly nice.' It was so close to her intonation - a perfect playback - I thought at first it was Eva had spoken. But it was Justin.
'Justin,' said Francis, 'come here.' He got him sat facing the screen and gave him the control box. Justin turned it over and over under his nose, sniffing it.
When he was done, Francis guided his fingers over the buttons, into the first level of Return of the Jedi.
'No, Justin, move it like this.'
Justin dropped the control box and started flapping his hands.
'Come on, Justin.'
'Oh, it's terribly nice,'
'No. Take it. It's fun.'
'Oh, it's terribly nice.'
Something was disturbing him. The sound from the TV was low enough, it shouldn't be distressing him. Was it the screen - something in the repeat-rate of the frames? Or had the break to his usual schedule unnerved him at last, in spite of all our rehearsals?
Eva tried stroking his hair. He slapped down her hands.
'Such hair,' she cooed, 'why's it so long?'
Francis caught my eye before I forgot and gave the game away. Justin's terror of having his hair cut was a quite usual obsession at his stage of development. The last time the school barber was round his tantrum lasted well into the night. I'd tried a couple of times, but I was expecting trouble, and maybe some of my nervousness had transmitted itself to him. Justin was hypersensitive to other people's anxiety. Saying nothing, Francis left the room a moment and returned with scissors and a comb. He offered them to Eva.
'Oh - ' Eva crooned. 'But it's such a pity to cut your beautiful hair, isn't it?' Justin flapped at her to be still. I saw how, as she stroked him, the sleeve of her dress was rubbing back and forth across his arm, just below the hem of his T-shirt. Eva's dress wasn't a harsh material, but to Justin - it must feel like sandpaper to him.
'Maybe this isn't the best time,' I said, as lightly and casually as I could manage. Francis shot me a look to be quiet.
Eva blinked puzzled, from Francis to me. 'What is it?' she said.
'Try cutting his hair,' said Francis.
Eva smiled. 'Okay.'
Francis reached over to hand Eva the scissors.
Justin looked up as they passed overhead.
He threw the control box at the screen.
'Justin!'
He came upright suddenly, as though jerked on the end of a wire, and started prancing and hopping all over Eva's legs.
'Calm down,' Francis urged, trying to steer him away.
Justin gave a yelp of fear and batted Francis's arm out the way. Seeing a gap open up between Eva and Francis, he bolted for freedom and flung himself on his bed.
From the TV came a muffled explosion. Justin wheeled round and looked up at the screen. It was full of flame and spinning wreckage. Justin started banging the back of his head against the headboard. It boomed, rebounding off the wall.
'Justin, stop that,' said Eva.
Justin looked at her, his mouth a perfect O, and screamed.
Eva, brooking no nonsense, went over to him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off the bed. What happened then was so predictable, I could only stand there and watch it happen, as in a bad dream. Eva recoiled, blood streaming from her nose. Justin lashed out again and again. He caught her in the chest, again in the face.
I launched myself at him, snaring him, pinning his arms at his sides. He screamed and bit my hair. I yelped as it tore from my scalp. I squeezed as hard as I could. He kept struggling. I turned us both round and saw Eva with her face buried in her hands, blood streamed between her fingers. 'Oh fuck!' She bent over, her head between her knees, the way she used to when morning sickness hit her unawares. Justin, exhausted at last, gave himself to my bear hug, and broke into a new fit of more melodic screaming. I squeezed harder. My bad hand was on fire, the moon-shaped cut opening
'Oh. But - Christ,' said Eva, fending off Justin's random, scything movements.
'Are you okay?'
'Oh, it's terribly nice.' It was so close to her intonation - a perfect playback - I thought at first it was Eva had spoken. But it was Justin.
'Justin,' said Francis, 'come here.' He got him sat facing the screen and gave him the control box. Justin turned it over and over under his nose, sniffing it.
When he was done, Francis guided his fingers over the buttons, into the first level of Return of the Jedi.
'No, Justin, move it like this.'
Justin dropped the control box and started flapping his hands.
'Come on, Justin.'
'Oh, it's terribly nice,'
'No. Take it. It's fun.'
'Oh, it's terribly nice.'
Something was disturbing him. The sound from the TV was low enough, it shouldn't be distressing him. Was it the screen - something in the repeat-rate of the frames? Or had the break to his usual schedule unnerved him at last, in spite of all our rehearsals?
Eva tried stroking his hair. He slapped down her hands.
'Such hair,' she cooed, 'why's it so long?'
Francis caught my eye before I forgot and gave the game away. Justin's terror of having his hair cut was a quite usual obsession at his stage of development. The last time the school barber was round his tantrum lasted well into the night. I'd tried a couple of times, but I was expecting trouble, and maybe some of my nervousness had transmitted itself to him. Justin was hypersensitive to other people's anxiety. Saying nothing, Francis left the room a moment and returned with scissors and a comb. He offered them to Eva.
'Oh - ' Eva crooned. 'But it's such a pity to cut your beautiful hair, isn't it?' Justin flapped at her to be still. I saw how, as she stroked him, the sleeve of her dress was rubbing back and forth across his arm, just below the hem of his T-shirt. Eva's dress wasn't a harsh material, but to Justin - it must feel like sandpaper to him.
'Maybe this isn't the best time,' I said, as lightly and casually as I could manage. Francis shot me a look to be quiet.
Eva blinked puzzled, from Francis to me. 'What is it?' she said.
'Try cutting his hair,' said Francis.
Eva smiled. 'Okay.'
Francis reached over to hand Eva the scissors.
Justin looked up as they passed overhead.
He threw the control box at the screen.
'Justin!'
He came upright suddenly, as though jerked on the end of a wire, and started prancing and hopping all over Eva's legs.
'Calm down,' Francis urged, trying to steer him away.
Justin gave a yelp of fear and batted Francis's arm out the way. Seeing a gap open up between Eva and Francis, he bolted for freedom and flung himself on his bed.
From the TV came a muffled explosion. Justin wheeled round and looked up at the screen. It was full of flame and spinning wreckage. Justin started banging the back of his head against the headboard. It boomed, rebounding off the wall.
'Justin, stop that,' said Eva.
Justin looked at her, his mouth a perfect O, and screamed.
Eva, brooking no nonsense, went over to him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off the bed. What happened then was so predictable, I could only stand there and watch it happen, as in a bad dream. Eva recoiled, blood streaming from her nose. Justin lashed out again and again. He caught her in the chest, again in the face.
I launched myself at him, snaring him, pinning his arms at his sides. He screamed and bit my hair. I yelped as it tore from my scalp. I squeezed as hard as I could. He kept struggling. I turned us both round and saw Eva with her face buried in her hands, blood streamed between her fingers. 'Oh fuck!' She bent over, her head between her knees, the way she used to when morning sickness hit her unawares. Justin, exhausted at last, gave himself to my bear hug, and broke into a new fit of more melodic screaming. I squeezed harder. My bad hand was on fire, the moon-shaped cut opening
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