There was a brief pause, but then an answer. “That’s okay. We all get grouchy when we’re not very well.”
Andrew suddenly felt teary. His wife’s compassion was such a contrast to the animosity of earlier events that it sent his brain into an emotional tailspin. He fought back the tears and made himself smile (although Pen would not see it from the other side of the door). “I love you, Pen.”
“I love you too, hun. I’ll see you downstairs, okay? That film is about to start and Rebecca wants you to watch it with her.”
“Okay. Be right down.”
Andrew leant forward in the bath and winced against the stiffness and pain in his ribs. He yanked the chain attached to the plug and listened to the gurgle as the drain began its suction. Then he lay back down and waited for the water to drain away around him, enjoying the sensual tickle of the water-level dropping against his skin.
When the tub was finally empty, Andrew remained there for several more minutes, not wanting to move and face the chill of the air outside his ceramic cocoon.
When he did find the willpower to get out of the bath, Andrew quickly grabbed a towel from the warming rail and wrapped it tight around himself. There was a hidden breeze in the room that nipped at his shoulder-blades in places the towel did not cover. He fought back a shiver and began drying himself, taking care not to be too rough around his ribs.
Not wanting to add needlessly to the washing pile, Andrew gathered his clothes off the bathroom floor and decided to put them back on again. The jeans were comfortable and would be fine for sitting and watching a film. Perhaps he would get into pyjamas later, after dinner.
The plush carpet of the landing felt good beneath Andrew’s feet. He padded towards the stairs and started down them. As he neared the bottom, he could hear the loud blaring of the television from the living room. For some reason, his daughter was unable to enjoy anything that didn’t carry the risk of hearing damage.
Andrew reached the downstairs hallway and was just about to enter the living room.
There was a knock at the door.
The Chinese is here.
Andrew changed direction and headed for the porch. He tried to make out the figure through the glass door-panes, but it was too dark outside to see anything more than a silhouette.
Andrew opened the door.
Nobody was there.
Andrew stared out into the darkness, straining his eyes for shapes in the shadows. All of the light was behind him, in the porch, making the darkness in front of him deep and unending. He leant forward and focused his eye, but still he could see no one. He started to think for a mument that he’d just imagined the knock at the door.
“Alright, mate?”
Andrew jumped back as a figure appeared from behind the left side-wall of the porch and entered the bleeding patch of light from the hallway. It was Frankie.
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you want?”
“Chill out,” Frankie replied, face twitching, scarred mouth grinning. “No need to shit your pants. I came to apologise, innit.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed further. “What?”
Frankie moved forward and placed a foot onto the step of the front door. Andrew moved forward to meet him.
“I said I’ve come to apologise.” Frankie lifted the brow of his red beanie hat in a way that was almost gentlemanly, “About tonight’s earlier…misunderstanding.”
Andrew laughed. “You mean when you assaulted me for no good reason?”
Frankie laughed back. “Yeah, I guess you could put it like that. No reason we can’t be friends, though. You and me, we can be bros, innit.”
“We’ll never be friends,” said Andrew, “and I already have a brother somewhere, so get the hell off my property and clear off.”
Frankie’s smile left his face and his twitch seemed to get worse for a mument. “Careful, mate. I don’t appreciate being told what to do, you get me?”
Andrew shook his head. “Look, what do you want? I’ve done nothing to you.”