Jonny started pushing some chorizo around his plate thoughtfully with his fork. He was biting the bait, I could tell.
‘But it is a good thing, of course it is,’ Gary repeated. ‘I’ve seen so much stuff coming out about how things that were acceptable ten or twenty years ago just aren’t now, and that’s right.’
Jonny put the fork down, turned his chair to face Gary full on, widening his legs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. It was weirdly aggressive somehow, even though it was supposed to be relaxed. ‘It’s never been acceptable, Dad. That’s the point. There was no “culture” that was different then. If anyone – like your gym staff – still doesn’t know the difference between flirting and sexual harassment, then that’s really scary and they need to ask themselves some serious questions.’
‘Thanks for that,’ Gary said. ‘Now turn back to the table and sit up properly.’
‘Both of you, stop it now,’ Christy said warningly.
‘I had some woman come up to me today too, giving me grief about something you’ve put online – it being about men too, not just women,’ Gary continued as Jonny turned back to the table and picked up a bit of pitta, dipping it in some hummus. ‘She was going on about how men even want to be the best at this. “You can’t even let us have abuse,” she said.’ Gary made his voice all pretend-high, squeaky and outraged.
‘Well men do get abused too,’ Jonny said.
‘Not often by women though. You’ve got to admit that.’
Jonny tossed the pitta back down on his plate. ‘What are you actually trying to say, Dad? You’re embarrassed and ashamed of me? Well, we all know that already. Perhaps you’ve had a doughnut and not done your hundred press-ups today; maybe that’s why you’re so pissy? Or is what’s really frying your arse that I’m the one getting the – unwanted – attention now, rather than my old man?’
Gary moved so fast I didn’t see it coming. He shot sideways, grabbing Jonny by the front of his shirt, but high up round the neck, pulling him out of his chair to his feet, before shoving him up against the kitchen cupboards.
‘What did you just say to me?’ He roared into his face, his fist still full of shirt ‘What did you just say, you little runt?’
Jonny looked down at him, terrified, right on tiptoes and his fingertips - trying to steady his balance by bracing them on the work surface, where Gary was pushing him so hard. Angel was barking like crazy, and Christy had already rushed over to them by the time I was on my feet too.
‘Put him down, Gary!’ she gasped, trying to reach over the top of them and break Gary’s clasp, but he kept staring up at Jonny, his eyes had gone small and black. He looked like a pig.
‘You don’t get to speak to me like that, ever, d’you hear?’ Bits of white spit had gathered in the corners of his mouth. He gave Jonny one last shove then released him.
Jonny bolted from the room, and I went after him, running up the stairs as fast as I could to his bedroom.
I didn’t know how to process what I’d just seen. I was so shocked. Is it possible to humiliate your son more than doing that in front of his girlfriend? I don’t think so. It was brutal.
I pushed open the door to Jonny’s room and went in. Jonny was pacing up and down, his eyes were full of tears.
‘I should have hit him,’ he said. ‘I should have hit the bastard.’
‘I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything.’ I was stunned. I knew Gary had always been tough on Jonny, that they rubbed each other up the wrong way, but I’d never seen him force Jonny down like that before.
‘I hate him. My whole life, he couldn’t have made me more aware of how disappointed he is – but at the same time, he’s jealous of me. I can’t help being younger than him. I can’t help being ill. I hate him so much. He’s nothing but a bully – that’s how he’s got to where he is today. He stamps on people like they’re insects and smiles at everyone else while he does it.’ He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his iPhone, tapping in his passcode and holding it up to his ear.
‘Who are you phoning?’
‘Ol. To see if I can go and stay at his for a bit.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said a voice behind me. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
I jumped and turned to see Christy standing there holding a plate of mains, looking shocked. I moved out of the way awkwardly and sat down on the bed, but she didn’t even look at me.
‘Put your phone down. You need to eat something. You only had a few bites of starter.’
‘I don’t bloody want it, Mum!’ Jonny exclaimed. ‘Stop trying to control me. I’ll eat when I want to eat!’
She stood her ground. ‘Hang up, please. We need to talk, Jonathan.’ She took a step back, holding the door open with her free hand.
‘I’ve got nothing to say to him.’
‘Your dad’s downstairs. I want to talk to you. Now.’
‘For fuck’s sake!’ Jonny exclaimed, throwing the phone on the bed and pushing past her into the hall.
She let the door drop closed, and from the mumbling I could hear, they were obviously having ‘words’.
I glanced across at his iPhone and picked it up. It was still unlocked, and I nosily clicked on photos looking to see what ones he had of me. There weren’t that many full stop, seeing as he’d not had his new phone for long. I quickly scrolled through the thumbnail shots and, in among the selfies, I found several identical pictures of me asleep in bed, my hair spread out over a pillow, face to one side. Smiling, I clicked on one of them to get a better look – but as it upsized, I realised it wasn’t me. It was her. Again. Her at the window, now on his phone… I felt the sick actually come up into my mouth.
I stared at the image hard: she had some white sheet tucked round her, but her shoulders were bare and all tanned. I peered closer – it was natural. You can’t fake colour like that. She was abroad, in a hotel room, and I was looking at a post-sex picture. No question. I swallowed. He’d only kept it to prove they had slept together, hadn’t he?
The voices were starting to rise on the other side of the door; I hesitated, but looked some more. As I studied it, I realised she was out of it. Like, practically comatose, and the harder I focused, the more… I don’t know – creepy? – it became. The only time I’ve ever taken pictures of people sleeping is when they’ve got their mouth wide open and they’re dribbling, or something funny. There was nothing LOL about this picture. She looked almost dead. I threw the phone back down on the bed feeling dizzy with shock and jealousy.
Seconds later, the door flung open and Jonny burst back in. ‘How many times? I don’t want the food!’
Christy was still standing there behind him, holding it.
‘Please, Mum,’ he begged. ‘Just take it away.’
Christy didn’t say anything, just finally turned and did as he asked.
I stood up, moving over to him so I could take his hand, but he shook me off.
‘Can you just go, please?’ I realised he was crying. ‘I’m OK, but I want you to leave. I don’t want you to be here while this is all happening, and I don’t want you to see me like this.’
I didn’t want to force him to let me stay. I moved to the door. ‘Come and sleep at mine tonight, if you want?’ I said suddenly. ‘For as long as you want – you could move in with us if you like? Mum wouldn’t mind.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, not able to meet my eye, as he furiously wiped his own. ‘I’ll message you later.’
‘Your dad shouldn’t have done that, Jonny. He should be supporting you.’
Jonny snorted bitterly. ‘You’d think, wouldn’t you?’
‘You’re not a bad person.’
He lifted his head up quickly but, as he stared right at me, his eyes went all wide. ‘Shit,’ he whispered. ‘You’re right. I’m just like him. I didn’t stop myself either.’
I was confused. Stop himself doing what?
He’d started staring into space. ‘Please, Cherry, just go.’