Charlie’s dad left his son there on the floor and wandered out of the room, trying to pick the splinter out of his hand. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs he couldn’t remember what the fight was about. By the time he slumped into his armchair he’d forgotten the fight altogether; didn’t once look through his mind’s eye at his boy lying face-down on his bedroom floor. And the ‘next of kin’ never came to the hospital that night, because he was drunk and asleep in front of the television and the police would have to remind him of what he had done, when they visited him the following morning.
Charlie didn’t remember making it down the stairs or out of the front door. Didn’t recall looking at his phone and thinking about replying to Joe-Nathan’s message and asking for help. The first thing he was conscious of after being thrown against his bedroom wall was the sight of Joe laying on the bright, white floor of The Compass Store with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish. The last thing he remembered was telling Joe that he thought he might be dying. He knew nothing about getting to the hospital in a trolley.
Joe loved the hospital, but hated being the filthiest thing in it. On quiz night, Chloe made a phone call from the hospital on Joe’s phone, and Hazel and Angus came to collect him and take him home. When he was clean and washed, he had watched four episodes of Friends, went to bed in freshly ironed pyjamas, got up at the correct time for a Sunday, had his breakfast and finished his chores. Hazel and Angus had taken him back to the hospital on the Sunday, and he was happy to be back in the gleaming white building with the sound of shoes squeaking on polished floors. At visiting time there was a little crowd of them; Chloe, Pip and Hugo were back to see Charlie too.
As well as feeling generally at ease in the hospital, Joe was also very happy to see Charlie in the hospital bed, because while it was not a place he had ever seen him before and even though it could hardly be thought of as the place where Charlie belonged long-term, Joe was able to breathe more easily knowing that Charlie was here.
Charlie was not your usual go-back item, because it was not obvious where he should be returned to when he was out of place. Chloe was also not the typical go-back item, because she just belonged anywhere; as if she herself were the place she should always be.
In contrast, Joe belonged exactly in certain places at certain times. He was The Go-Back; the easiest kind of go-back. But Charlie? No, Charlie didn’t seem to belong anywhere and so there was never anywhere he should be going back to.
So, until Joe could work out Charlie’s place in the world, he felt at ease that he was – for the moment – safely inside clean, crisp white sheets, fed and safe. That was about as good as it could get, for now.
‘What time will Charlie wake up?’ Joe asked.
‘No one’s set an alarm, Joe, we just have to wait,’ Chloe said.
‘And there’s more important questions than when he’ll wake up,’ said Hugo.
‘What questions?’ said Joe, and everyone looked at the floor.
Pip elbowed Hugo and he looked at her and shrugged, then looked at Joe. ‘Like whether Charlie will press charges against his dad. If what you said about him is true,’ he said.
‘Sometimes people don’t want to get their parents in trouble,’ said Pip.
‘I know that,’ said Joe. ‘Plus, I could be wrong.’
‘About what?’ said Hugo. ‘You mean you’re not sure if Charlie’s dad is beating him?’
‘Well,’ said Joe, looking at Chloe. ‘Chloe did point out to me that I am always more likely to be wrong than right about interpreting someone like Charlie.’
‘Sorry, Joe. That was a shitty thing to say,’ said Chloe. She even wore an I’m sorry smile on her face. Pip’s smile said everything is going to be okay, and Hugo’s said we can’t do anything but wait.
Joe wondered how many kinds of smiles actually existed, because it was a lot. You could basically think anything and smile at the same time so the possibilities were only limited by the number of thoughts that a person could have.