she was entering a minefield. A child, cruelly deprived of his own mother, had set up this fantasy to comfort himself. How could she snatch it from him?
‘She’s very pretty,’ Gina agreed.
Joey nodded and pointed to the picture. ‘Eeee—aye—eeee,’ he said.
Gina understood this as She gave me. A fan picture, sent through the post, and the child thought he’d been selected for special favour.
‘She gave it to you?’ she echoed. ‘That was nice of her.’
Joey fought for speech. The result was garbled but Gina understood. She loves me.
‘Yes,’ she said heavily. ‘Of course she does.’
Carson looked in. ‘There’s something to eat downstairs.’
Supper was laid in the elegant dining room, full of polished rosewood, with expensive pictures on the wall. Gina reflected that she would have hated to be a child in such a room, and Joey seemed to feel the same, because he was subdued.
The meal was excellent, and she complimented Carson on it.
‘I can’t take the credit,’ he admitted. ‘Mrs Saunders left everything ready and I just microwaved it.’ He regarded his son, staring unenthusiastically at his plate. ‘What?’ He touched Joey’s shoulder to get his attention. ‘What’s the matter with it?’ he asked, raising his voice.
‘Does Joey have any hearing at all?’ Gina asked.
‘No, none.’
‘Then why do you shout? Speaking clearly is what he needs, so that he can follow your lips. Anyway, there’s nothing the matter with the food. But if Joey’s like me at that age he’d prefer a burger.’
‘Junk food,’ Carson said disparagingly. ‘This is better for him.’
She saw Joey looking from one to the other with the bewildered look of the excluded, and took his hand in hers for a moment. At once the look of strain vanished from his face.
‘But who wants to have what’s better for them all the time?’ she persisted. ‘Junk is more fun. Have you ever asked him what he prefers?’
‘That isn’t easy.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she insisted. ‘You look into his face so that he can see your lips.’
‘Do you think I don’t try that? He doesn’t understand me. Or he chooses not to, for reasons of his own.’
Gina was about to dispute this but a memory of her childhood got in the way.
‘That depends how you talk to him,’ she mused. ‘If you let him see you’re impatient, he’s bound to get upset.’
‘I do not—well, I try not to—are you saying he is doing it deliberately?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s what I used to do. When you’re faced with a really unsympathetic adult who’s obviously just doing his duty, and would rather be anywhere but with you—you don’t tend to make it easy for him.’
‘And I am the unsympathetic adult, I take it?’
‘Are you?’
He let out a long, slow breath. ‘I’m doing my best.’
‘How good a best is it?’
‘It’s damnable,’ he flashed. ‘All right? That’s what you think, isn’t it? And it’s the truth. I’m a lousy father, I don’t know what I’m doing and he’s suffering for it.’
‘At least you’re honest.’
‘But where does honesty get us?’ he asked bleakly. ‘Do you have the answer any more than I do?’
The weight of despair in his voice checked her condemnation. He too was suffering, and he coped less well than the child.
Last night, the word ‘deaf’ had made a change come over him and she’d judged him severely, assuming that he’d reacted with repulsion, as so many people did. But the truth was that deafness confronted him with problems he couldn’t cope with, and a miserable awareness of his own failure.
‘What should I do?’ he said wearily. ‘For God’s sake, tell me if you know!’
‘I can tell you what it’s like for Joey,’ she said. ‘If you understood that, you might find things easier for both of you.’ She saw Joey looking at them and said, ‘Not now,’ quietly to Carson.
For the rest of the meal she concentrated on the child, making him feel included. Carson ate very little, but he watched them, his eyes moving from one to the other as though he was afraid to miss anything.
‘May I use your telephone?’ Gina asked after a while. She’d remembered that Dan was due to call her.
‘There’s one in that room through there,’ Carson said.
She called Dan’s mobile and found him slightly tetchy.
‘You didn’t say you were going to be out tonight,’ he complained.
‘I didn’t know. Something came up suddenly.’
‘My boss invited me to his house and said to bring you, too. It didn’t look good when I turned up without you.’
‘I’m sorry, but I didn’t know.’
‘You’ve still got time to get here if you hurry.’
‘All right, I’ll try to—’
Then she saw Joey watching her from the doorway.
His face told her that he understood. He couldn’t hear the words, but when you were deaf you always knew when people were preparing to desert you.
Desert? Nonsense! She didn’t owe Joey anything.
But she did. Because he was trapped in the dreadful silent world from which she had escaped. And the deaf always owed each other, because they knew terrible secrets that nobody else knew.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ she said hurriedly.
‘Gina, this is important.’
‘And my job is important to me,’ she said, seizing an excuse that Dan would understand. ‘I blotted my copy-book with a client this afternoon, and I’m trying to put it right.’ Hurriedly she explained about the accident, and about Joey. She could sense Dan becoming interested.
‘Carson Page? The man you were talking to last night?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re at his home?’
‘Yes.’
‘That posh place in Belmere Avenue?’
‘Yes.’
