In the morning they set off again going many leagues to the westerly direction and within a day or two they caught sight of their destination – the city of C____ in the province of D______ where men call each other ‘brother’ and where the women are dark haired, long legged and free.

Dad slammed car doors and walked into the Hotel De Ville, demanding room 236 and leading the kids up there in confidence. It was a small room, just like he remembered, closed tight on a double bed, with shit brown curtains and a picture on the wall that caught James’ eye.

Dad broke open the mini-bar and reluctantly shared a vodka bottle with Olivia while James stared at the picture, stood up on the bed in his muddy shoes, but no one really cared.

*

The picture: one of those allegories popular in former times. Service Stations Of The Cross. Baroque detail. A masterpiece of luminescent highlighter pens. Christ on The Forecourt. Crucified. The gay centurions. Posh Spice at Christ’s feet, wailing and weeping and washing diesel off of him with her long black hair. In the background Peter, Paul & Mary. A pair of winged pump attendants hovering in the air and sporting the fluttering banner in typical period style:

”LORD FORGIVE THEM THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY MOBIL”

James stared at the picture and an hour passed in an instant and it seemed to him so real he could the smell sand, and feel the breeze in Peter’s hair.

*

It was only mum’s arrival that broke the spell. Dad and Olivia were both fast asleeping by then and James could not quite look at her or respond to her warm embrace.

Mum looked so different and the same and she had Harry with her. Harry was bigger and he didn’t cry so much and his eyes followed you in the room and he smiled sometimes and James was happy to see him again.

Mum touched James’ hair, touched his shoulder. She whispered him a few things – how she had missed him, how she loved him. She smelled of perfume and of some time that was a long time ago.

For a while James thought it might all be alright. He could look from mum to Dad and Olivia where they had passed out on the bed and even when the TV ran out of money and neither he nor mum had more to put in the meter he was happy, secretly, inside.

*

The only problem was that Dad would not sleep forever and when he woke then the shit really started. He hadn’t seen mum in 6 months but when he did see her – up close, in the same room and personal – he was not exactly overjoyed, even if she had brought Harry which fitted in with his ‘plan’.