The Cement Garden Read online

  “In fact,” she said, “it’s a bit later than usual, isn’t it Jack?” I nodded, although I had no idea what time it was.

  Julie ruffled my hair.

  “Haven’t you noticed a difference in him?” she said to Derek.

  “Cleaner and smarter,” he said instantly. He said to me, “Pulling the ladies now are you?”

  Julie rested her hand on my head.

  “Oh no,” she said, “we’re having none of that round here.”

  Derek laughed and took out his cigarettes. When he offered one to Julie she refused. I kept very still because I did not want her to move her hand. At the same time I sensed I looked foolish to Derek. He settled back in his chair and smoked his cigarette, watching us all the time. We heard Sue open the back door, but she remained in the kitchen. Suddenly Derek smiled and I wondered whether, behind me, Julie was smiling too. They stood up at the same time without speaking. Before she took her hand off my head, Julie gave it a little pat.

  As soon as they were upstairs Sue returned and sat on the edge of Derek’s chair. She laughed nervously and said, “I know what that smell is.”

  “It isn’t me.”

  She led me into the kitchen and unlocked the cellar door. It was, of course, the same smell, I knew that at once, but it was changed by being intensified. Now it was separate from me. There was something sweet, and beyond that, or wrapped around it, another bigger, softer smell that was like a fat finger pushing into the back of my throat. It rolled up the concrete steps out of the darkness. I breathed through my mouth.

  “Go on,” Sue said, “go down. You know what it is,” and she turned on the light and pushed me in the small of my back.

  “Only if you come too,” I said.

  There was a rustling sound from somewhere along the corridor that led from the bottom of the stairs to the end room. Sue stepped back into the kitchen and picked up a plastic toy torch belonging to Tom. It was in the shape of a fish. Its light came from its mouth and was very weak.

  I said, “There’s plenty of light. We don’t need that.”

  But she was prodding me in the back with it.

  “Go on, you’ll see,” she whispered.

  At the foot of the stairs we stopped to turn on another set of lights. Sue put a handkerchief over her nose, and I covered my face with my shirttails. The door at the end of the corridor was half open. From in there we heard the rustling sound again.

  “Rats,” Sue said. When we reached the door the room was suddenly silent and I stopped.

  “Push,” Sue said through her handkerchief.

  I did not move, but now the door was opening on its own. I cried out and stepped backward and saw that my sister was pressing with her foot near the hinge. The trunk looked as if it had been kicked. The middle bulged right out. The surface of the concrete was broken by a huge crack in some places half an inch wide. Sue wanted me to look down it. She put the torch in my hand, pointed and said something I could not hear. As I shone the light along the crack I remembered a time when Commander Hunt and his crew flew low across the surface of an unknown planet. Thousands of miles of flat, hard-baked desert broken only by great fissures caused by earthquakes. Not one hill or tree or house and no water. There was no wind because there was no air. They flew away into space without landing, and no one spoke for hours.

  Sue uncovered her mouth and whispered fiercely, “What are you waiting for?”

  I leaned over the crack at its widest point and shone the torch down. I saw a convoluted yellowish gray surface. Round the edge was something black and frayed. As I stared, the surface formed itself briefly into a face, an eye, part of a nose and a dark mouth. The image dissolved into convoluted surfaces once more. I thought I was about to fall over and gave the torch to Sue. But the feeling passed as I watched her bending over the trunk. We went into the corridor and closed the door behind us.

  “Did you see?” Sue said. “The sheet is all torn and you can see her nightie underneath.” For a moment we were very excited, as if we had discovered that our mother was in fact alive. We had seen her in her nightie, just the way she was.

  As we were going up the stairs I said, “The smell isn’t too bad once you get used to it.”

  Sue half laughed and half sobbed and dropped the torch. Behind us we could hear the rats again. She took deep breaths and bent down to pick up the torch. As she stood up she said, “We’ll have to get more cement,” and her voice was quite level.

  At the top of the stairs we met Derek. Over his shoulder I could see Julie in the center of the kitchen. Derek blocked our way out of the cellar.

  “Well, you’re not very good at keeping secrets,” he said in a friendly way. “What have you got down there that smells so good?”

  We pushed by him without replying. Sue stood at the sink and drank water from a teacup. The sound of the liquid going down her throat was very loud.

  I said, “It’s none of your business really.”

  I turned to Julie, hoping she would think of something to say. She walked to where Derek stood in the cellar doorway and tried to pull him gently by the arm.

  “Let’s lock the door,” she said, “that smell is getting on my nerves.”

  But Derek pulled his arm away and once again said in a friendly way, “But you haven’t told me what it is yet.”

  He brushed the arm of his jacket where Julie had pulled and smiled at us. “I’m very curious you see.” We watched him turn and descend the stairs. We heard his footsteps stop at the bottom as he fumbled for the light switch, and continue to the room at the end. And then we followed him down, first Julie, then Sue, then me.

  Derek took a pale blue handkerchief from his breast pocket, shook it out and held it not over his face but near it. I was determined to use nothing and took quick breaths between my teeth. Derek tapped the trunk with his boot. My sisters and I stood in a shallow circle behind him, as if some important ceremony were about to take place. He traced with his finger the line of the crack and peered into it.

  “Whatever’s in there is really rotten.”

  “It’s a dead dog,” Julie said suddenly and simply, “Jack’s dog.”

  Derek grinned.

  I said, “You promised you wouldn’t say.”

  Julie shrugged and said, “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Derek was bending over the trunk. Julie went on, “It’s his idea of a … a tomb. He put her in there when she died and poured concrete all over her.” Derek broke off a piece of concrete and tossed it in his hand.

  “You didn’t make a very good job of the mix,” he said, “and this trunk isn’t holding the weight.”

  “The smell is all over the house,” Julie said to me, “you’d better do something about it.” Derek wiped his hands carefully on his handkerchief.

  “I think it calls for a reburial,” he said, “in the garden, perhaps. Next to your frog.” I went over to the trunk and kicked it gently the way Derek had done.

  “I don’t want it moved,” I said firmly. “Not after all that work.”

  Derek led the way out of the cellar. When we were upstairs we all went into the living room. Derek asked me the name of my dog, and without thinking I said, “Cosmo.”

  He came and put his hand on my shoulder and said, “We’ll have to seal that crack with cement then and hope the trunk will hold.”

  For the rest of the evening we sat about, doing nothing. Derek talked about snooker. Much later, as I was going to my bedroom, he said, “I’ll show you how to make a proper mix this time,” and from the stairs I heard Julie say, “It’s best to leave him to it. He doesn’t like you showing him what to do.”

  Derek said something I could not hear and then laughed to himself for rather a long time.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE HOT weather returned. In the morning Julie sunbathed on the rockery, this time without her radio. Tom, who was wearing his own clothes for the first time in days, played in the garden with his friend from the tower block. Whenever Tom was abo
ut to do something he considered particularly daring, like jumping over a stone, he wanted Julie to watch him.

  “Julie, watch! Julie! Julie, look!” I heard his voice all morning. I went to watch them from the kitchen. Julie lay on a bright blue towel and ignored Tom. Her skin was so dark I thought it would only be another day before it was black. There were several wasps in the kitchen feeding off rubbish that had spilled across the floor. Outside there was a cloud of flies round the overflowing dustbins which had not been emptied for weeks. We thought there might have been a strike but we had heard nothing. A packet of butter had melted into a pool. While I watched out the window, I dabbed my finger in it and sucked. Today it was too hot to clean the kitchen. Sue came and told me that already it was a record; she had heard on the radio that it was the hottest day since 1900.

  “Julie should be careful,” Sue said, and went outside to warn her. But neither Tom and his friend nor Julie seemed touched by the heat. She lay quite still, and they chased each other round the garden shouting each other’s name.

  In the late afternoon I walked to the shops with Julie to buy a packet of cement. Tom came too. He kept close by Julie’s side and held onto a corner of her white skirt. At one point I had to stand in the shade of a bus shelter to recover from the heat. Julie stood in front of me in the sunlight trying to fan me with her hand.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she said. “You look so weak. What have you been doing with yourself?” She caught my eye and we both laughed. Outside the shop we saw our reflections in the plate glass window. Julie locked her hand into mine and said, “Look how pale yours are.” I pulled my hand away and as we were going into the shop she spoke to me firmly as if I was a child.

  “You really ought to get out in the sun. It will do you good.” On the way home I thought of a time not long ago when Julie had never spoken unless spoken to. Now she was talking excitedly to Tom about circuses, and once she stopped and knelt by him and with a paper tissue wiped his lips clean of ice cream and snot.

  When we arrived at our front gate I decided that I did not want to return indoors. Julie took the ten-pound bag of cement from me and said, “That’s right, you stay out in the sun.”

  As I walked up our street I noticed suddenly how different it looked. It was hardly a street at all; it was a road across an almost empty junkyard. There were only two other houses left standing apart from ours. Ahead of me a group of workmen stood round a builders’ lorry preparing to go home. The lorry was starting up just as I reached it. Three men were standing on the back holding onto the rack on top of the driver’s cab. One of the men saw me and jerked his head sideways in greeting. Then, as the lorry bounced over the curb he pointed in the direction of our house and shrugged. All that was left of the prefabs were the big slabs of the foundations. I went and stood on one. Running across the slab were grooves where the walls had been. Weeds that looked like small lettuces grew in the grooves. I walked along the lines of the walls, placing one foot just in front of the other, and thought how strange it was that a whole family could live inside this rectangle of concrete. It was hard to tell now if this was the prefab I had visited before. There was nothing to tell them apart. I took off my shirt and spread it on the floor in the center of the largest room. I lay down on my back and stretched out my hands on the ground so that my fingers caught the sun. Immediately I felt stifled by the heat, my skin prickled with sweat. But determined, I stayed where I was and daydreamed.

  When I woke up I wondered why I was not in my bed. I shivered and felt for my sheets. When I stood up my head began to ache. I picked up my shirt and walked home slowly, stopping once to admire the blood red color of my chest and arms, deepened by the evening sunlight. Derek’s car was parked outside the house. As I entered the kitchen I saw the cellar door open and heard voices and scraping noises.

  Derek had rolled his sleeves up and was forcing wet cement down the crack with a trowel. Julie stood watching him with her hands on her hips.

  “Doing your chores for you,” Derek said as I came in, but he was obviously enjoying himself. Julie seemed delighted to see me, as if I had been away at sea for years.

  “Look at you,” she said, “you’ve really caught it. You look lovely. Doesn’t he look lovely?”

  Derek grunted and leaned over his work. Already the smell was less noticeable. Derek whistled softly through his teeth as he smoothed down the cement. While his back was to us Julie winked at me and I pretended I was about to kick Derek in the backside.

  Sensing something, Derek said without turning round, “Anything wrong?”

  “No, nothing,” we said together, and we began to laugh.

  Derek came toward me with the trowel. To my surprise he sounded hurt.

  “Perhaps you better do it,” he said.

  “Oh no,” I said, “you’re much better at it than I am.”

  Derek was trying to put the trowel into my hands.

  “It’s your dog,” he said, “if it is a dog.”

  “Derek!” Julie said soothingly. “Please do it. You said you would.” She led him back to the trunk. “If Jack does it, it will only crack again and the smell will be everywhere.” Derek shrugged and began his work again. Julie patted him on the shoulder and picked up his jacket which was hanging on a nail. She folded it over her arm and patted that too. “Nice pussy,” she whispered.

  This time Derek ignored our soft giggles.

  He finished the job and stood back. Julie said, “Well done!” Derek made her a little bow and tried to hold her hand. I said something similar, but he did not look in my direction. Upstairs in the kitchen Julie and I stood in attendance while Derek washed his hands. Julie offered him a towel, and as he was drying his hands, he tried to draw her toward him. But Julie came and put her hand on my shoulder and admired the color in my face.

  “You look so much better,” she said, “doesn’t he?”

  Derek was knotting his tie with quick, sharp movements.

  Julie appeared to have complete control of his moods. He adjusted his cuffs and reached for his jacket.

  “Looks to me like he overdid it,” he said.

  He moved toward the door, and for a moment I thought he was going to leave. Instead he stooped down and picked up an old teabag by its corner and threw it in the direction of the wastebin. Julie filled the kettle and I wandered into the living room to look for teacups.

  When it was finally ready, we drank the tea standing up in the kitchen. Now he was back in his suit and with his tie on, Derek was more like his old self. He stood very erect, holding his cup in one hand and saucer in the other.

  He asked me questions about school and jobs. Then he said carefully, “You must have been very attached to that dog.”

  I nodded and waited for Julie to change the subject.

  “When did he die?” Derek asked.

  I said, “It was a she.”

  There was a pause, and then Derek said a little sulkily, “Well, when did she die?”

  “About two months ago.” Derek turned to Julie and looked at her pleadingly. She smiled and filled his cup. He spoke into the space between her and me.

  “What kind of dog?”

  “Oh, you know,” Julie said, “a mixture of things.”

  I added, “But mostly Labrador,” and briefly, from somewhere, a dog seemed to lift its sunken eyes to mine. I shook my head.

  “Do you mind talking about it?” Derek asked.

  “No.”

  “What gave you the idea of putting her down there?”

  “Sort of like preserving her. Like the Egyptians.”

  Derek nodded curtly as if everything was explained.

  Just then Tom came in, ran to Julie and clung to her leg. We shifted our positions to make the circle a little wider. Derek tried to touch Tom’s head, but Tom pushed his hand away and some of Derek’s tea spilled on the floor.

  He stared at the splashes a moment and said, “Did you like Cosmo, Tom?”

  Still holding onto Julie’s
leg, Tom leaned backward to look at Derek and laughed as if this was a running joke between them.

  “You remember Cosmo, our dog,” Julie told him rapidly.

  Tom nodded. Derek said, “Yes, Cosmo. Were you sad when she died?”

  Again Tom swung back and this time stared up at his sister.

  “You sat on my lap and cried, don’t you remember?”

  “Yes,” he said mischievously. We all watched Tom closely. “I cried, didn’t I?” he said to Julie.

  “That’s right, and I carried you to bed, remember?”

  Tom leaned his head against Julie’s belly and seemed deep in reflection. Anxious to get Tom away from Derek, Julie set down her cup and led Tom into the garden. As they were going through the door, Tom said loudly, “A dog!” and laughed derisively.

  Derek rattled his car keys in his pocket. Julie was racing Tom across the garden and we both watched through the window. She looked so beautiful as she turned to encourage Tom that it irritated me to share the sight of her with Derek. Without turning from the window he said wistfully, “I wish you would all … well, trust me a little more.”

  I yawned. Sue, Julie and I had not talked about our dog story together. We had not been at all careful with Derek. Often what was in the cellar did not seem real enough to keep secret. When we were not actually down there looking at the trunk it was as if we were asleep. Derek took out his watch. “I’ve got a game. See you later tonight perhaps.”

  He stepped outside and called to Julie who paused only briefly in her game with Tom to wave to him and blow him a kiss. He waited a moment before walking away, but her back was already turned.

  I went to my bedroom, took off my shoes and socks and lay down on the bed. Through my window I could see a clear square of pale blue sky, not one cloud. After less than a minute I sat up and stared about me. On the floor were Coca-Cola tins, dirty clothes, fish and chip wrappers, several wire coat hangers, a box that once contained rubber bands. I stood up and looked at where I had been lying, the folds and rucks in the yellowish gray sheets, large stains with distinct edges. I felt stifled. Everything I looked at reminded me of myself. I opened wide the doors of my wardrobe and threw in all the debris from the floor. I pulled the sheets, blankets and pillows off my bed and put those in too. I ripped down pictures from the wall that I had once cut out of magazines. Under the bed I found plates and cups covered in green mold. I took every loose object and put it in the wardrobe till the room was bare. I even took down the light bulb and light shade. Then I took my clothes off, threw them in and closed the doors. The room was empty like a cell. I lay down on the bed again and stared at my patch of clear sky till I fell asleep.