BooksBarbecue
Back A Terrible Kindness
Chapters (77)
  1. Landing Page
  2. A TERRIBLE KINDNESS
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. ABERFAN
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. CAMBRIDGE CHOIR
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. FAMILY BUSINESS
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. MIDNIGHT CHOIR
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. ABERFAN
  68. 59
  69. 60
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. 63
  73. 64
  74. 65
  75. Acknowledgements
  76. About the Author
  77. Copyright

‘It’s not easy being loved by people you keep hurting.’

‘For fuck’s sake.’ Martin speeds up, head down, then stops dead momentarily. A cyclist swears, swerving to miss them. ‘Do you think anyone deserves being loved, really deserves it?’ He shakes his head and starts walking again. ‘You’re not special, William. You’re like all of us. Sometimes we’re the best we can be, sometimes the worst. It’s called being human.’ They head left towards Drummer Street. ‘I don’t know how to help you sort yourself out, but I know how you looked this evening. Alive. And surely, the point of being on this earth is to live. If singing brings you back to life, warms your heart, stirs your blood’ – he comes to another halt and faces William, putting a hand on each of his arms – ‘don’t you think it’s your duty to bloody well sing? As if your life depends on it?’ He lets go and walks on, his brogues a steady beat on the pavement. ‘It’s all I’ve got, William.’

William rushes to catch up and get into time with Martin’s long stride. They continue in silence. After a few moments, he counts four footsteps, inhales.

‘Myfanwy, may your life entirely be

Beneath the midday sun’s bright glow,

And may a blushing rose of health

Dance on your cheek a hundred years.’

Martin’s voice slides in instantly, easily, alongside his. Two more students pass on their bikes; they slow down, smiling as they go, one bike lurching towards the other.

‘I forget all your words of promise

You made to someone, my pretty girl

So give me your hand, my sweet Myfanwy,

For no more but to say “farewell”.’

They come to a standstill outside the Methodist church and bellow the last note into the Cambridge sky, arms aloft, hand in hand.

Martin opens the front door to his flat and William follows him in, talking to his back. ‘I can’t make Gloria happy. She deserves to be happy.’

Martin walks up the stairs. ‘OK, William.’ He shakes his head. ‘If that’s what you want to tell yourself.’

And there it is again; the cocktail of fear and anger he felt in the car with Gloria. A bloody hypocrite, she called him. He reaches the top of the stairs, the familiar darkness rising in him, the same overwhelming dread.

‘Tea?’ Martin calls from the kitchen, but William goes straight to his room.

52

The thick, white-tipped buds of the magnolia in the back garden are so hefty they look in need of hinges to open. The shared back garden is scattered with purple crocuses, which already he and Martin have inadvertently trampled on. Some recover and stand themselves up again; some stay prone on the lawn, their squash of purple and yellow insides exposed.