The front doorbell ringing took him by surprise. He opened it to find Diane, his sister-in-law, standing on the step with Treacle. He painted on a smile.
‘Di! Hello, Treacle.’ He unclipped her collar and watched her run inside.
‘I bumped into Eric earlier, who was out over the Rec with her.’ She pointed at the dog. ‘He said you’d had to go and see Olly? What was that all about? Is he okay?’
He looked away from the crease of concern that sat at the top of her nose; the same one Kerry too had inherited from their mum. Tonight any resemblance was more than he could stand.
‘Come in, Di.’
She followed him into the kitchen and he had to remind himself to be welcoming and pleasant, wanting nothing less than visitors at this time of night, when his mood was a little low. And the only thing he wanted less than company was the company of his sister-in-law.
‘Yes, I went down to see Olly, but he’s fine, went into a bit of a tailspin earlier, but I think he just needed reassurance. I’ve literally just got back. Thirty quid poorer after filling up, and knackered, but actually just glad he’s okay. He misses his mum – that’s what it boils down to.’
‘Course he does. We all do.’ Diane looked down, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell. He understood; everything was still so raw, so painful.
‘Anyway . . .’ She sniffed. ‘I told Eric I’d take Treacle, and here we are.’ She wiped her nose with a soggy bit of kitchen roll. She managed to make her act of kindness sound like a huge imposition, her undertone of martyrdom ringing loud and clear.
‘Do you want a cup of tea, Di? I’m just making.’ He pointed at the kettle.
She stared at him with narrowed eyes and bit her lip. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How many times have I sat in this kitchen, talking to my sister?’
He blew out. ‘I don’t know, thousands.’ He imagined the laughter that used to explode from the kitchen, the two of them together – it used to make him smile and irritate him in equal measure, the interruption when he was trying to catch up on the news or watch football.
‘Yes, thousands, and I never once had a cup of tea. I don’t drink it, Nick, can’t stand the stuff. I don’t drink coffee either.’
‘Is that right?’ He stared at her, reminded in that second that Kerry was the conduit between him and her family, in fact between him and their friends. She was the glue, the one who remembered birthdays and anniversaries, the names of newborns, dates of christenings, who was dating who, whose marriage was on the rocks, who had a new job and where, how people had done in exams, who was wearing new glasses, had got their hair cut and who did or did not drink tea.
‘I said to Mum earlier, you must feel lost, Nick. I think it’s bad for us – I miss my sister . . .’ She paused to try to control the catch in her throat. ‘I guess I sometimes forget that I’m not the only one hurting.’
‘I do feel lost.’ It was a rare admission. ‘Adrift. It’s like I’ve left the house and forgotten something but I can’t think what. Like I need to be somewhere but have no idea where. Anyway’ – he took a deep breath – ‘I’m rambling. Thanks for bringing Treacle home.’
‘Any time. You know where we are, Nick.’
‘I do. Thanks, Di.’ He nodded, keen to get her out of the door before his sadness, urged on by fatigue, overwhelmed him. Diane patted Treacle and made her way along the hallway. He closed the front door and sank down on to the welcome mat on the exact same spot where Oliver had crumpled, and he let his tears fall.
‘I don’t like being on my own! I miss having my family around me.’ He spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I don’t like it, Kerry.’
1992
The knocking on the front door was urgent. Nick quickly tied his trainer laces and finished the last bite of his toast and peanut butter, eaten illegally in his bed. His dad, the custodian of standards in the house, was already at work and his mum had given it to him with a wink. It made him love her more. Today was the day they had decided to go hunting for the things they needed to build Half Bike and they had drawn up a list:
saddle
lights
pump
wheels
inner tube
tyres
water bottle holder
water bottle
stickers for frame
Nick heard his mum’s sing-song greeting and the sound of feet thundering up the stairs. Alex pushed open the bedroom door, his face red, his tone a little panicked, as he began gabbling.
‘He’s not at home! I can’t find him! His dad opened the door when I knocked and he looked really mad and he was a bit smelly, and he said if I see him then I had to tell him to go straight back. I didn’t know what to do, so I came straight here!’ He sat on the bed, a little out of puff. It was obvious he was talking about Eric, as he was the only one missing.
‘What do you mean, you can’t find him?’ Nick had to admit it was a curious state of affairs that Eric was not around. Eric was always ready to leave his house of a morning or was knocking for Alex, if not already on Nick’s doorstep bright and early.
‘I mean’ – Alex gulped – ‘his dad said he didn’t know where he was and I thought he might be here, but your mum said he’s not.’
Nick considered this.
‘Do you think he’s in trouble?’
Alex nodded vigorously. ‘I do. I think something has happened with his dad, maybe he told him off and that was why he looked so mad.’
Nick nodded; this sounded plausible.
‘We should go and look for him,’ he decided. ‘We’re out looking for bike bits anyway; we can look for him and the stuff we need at the same time.’
The boys headed down the stairs. ‘Mum?’ Nick called. ‘We’re going to look for bike stuff and Eric.’ It didn’t occur to either boy that a water bottle and discarded saddle might not be lurking in the same spot as their missing friend.
‘Okay, lads, you know the rules, stay together and come back when you’re hungry.’ She smiled, clearly not sharing their concern for their missing mate.
Nick ran down the path and past his sister, who had set up a deckchair in the front garden and now sat with a copy of Look-In open and lifted to her chest.
‘Where you off to, dweebs?’ she asked casually.
‘We’ve lost Eric,’ Alex explained over his shoulder as they trotted along the pavement.
‘Lost him how?’ Jen sat forward in the chair and her magazine fell to the floor.
‘He’s gone missing.’
‘Do you want me to come and help you find him? I could . . . I could maybe join your gang for one day?’
Alex laughed and Nick shook his head. ‘As if!’
‘Well, good.’ Jen sat back and reached for her magazine. ‘I wouldn’t want to join anyway! You’re idiots!’
‘Your sister scares me,’ Alex whispered as they headed towards the Rec. The boys could see after scanning the place that Eric was not here, or if he was he was hidden. They combed the sloping field, looking behind trees and using thick sticks to thresh the long, weed-riddled grass that grew on the east side and where dogs liked to pee, but found nothing – nothing vaguely bike-related that might have been of use and no Eric Pickard.