Jonathan threw down a clutter of back-pack and wellingtons when he came back, and took me for a moment in his arms before he fell heavily into a chair.
‘Make us some tea, Kath,’ he said. ‘We’ve been working like war horses. Rogsie doesn’t believe in tea breaks. There’s a new floor, all the plaster is off the walls, we’ve got a man to make rafters and a new front door. Roger is going to make us new windows in his garage. He’s got all the measurements there in his pocket diary, haven’t you, Rogsie? All squashed in between the autumnal equinox and the maths prelims. Sit down, Rogsie. Don’t do that bloody nervous hovering.’ Roger smiled.
‘He’s a wreck,’ he said to me a little smugly because, appearances to the contrary, he was stronger than Jonathan and better at humping cement, ‘I must go,’ he said. ‘I must look in on Mother and Sally is expecting me. That was good for us, Jont. I enjoyed it. It’s a good idea to fix one’s mind on a manual task from time to time.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ Jonathan said and laughed on a yawn. ‘That was above and beyond the call of brotherly love, what you did. Thanks, Roger. You were prodigious. See him out, Kath, because my legs don’t work.’ I walked Roger to his car in total silence. In the back he had a large spirit level and a bag of tools wedged between the door and the child seat. He took the fried egg out of his pocket.
‘Goodbye,’ he said. ‘It’s been good for me, Katherine, to see you and my brother so happy. I’ve had you on my conscience intermittently over the years.’ Did Roger imagine himself to be dispensing patronage to his brother? Who giveth this woman to this man? And for whom was it good? For me and for Jonathan, surely. Why should it be good for him?
‘There’s no need,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been idle, you know. I haven’t been hemming sheets these years.’ Roger nodded.
‘No, I’m sure of it,’ he said. ‘But I was unkind to you. They were things I felt I had to say, those things I said.’
‘I stole your travelling bag,’ I said. ‘I can’t even give it back to you because somebody stole it from me.’
Roger smiled and touched my cheek, briefly, with the fried egg. It was, I think, the most affectionate gesture I ever got from him. Because he made the gesture I took the chance to hit him below the belt.
‘Do you really go to church, Roger?’ I said. ‘Did the Holy Ghost appear to you in the blackberry patch?’ Roger laughed, but he wasn’t put out.
‘It’s not a thing you are required to understand, Katherine,’ he said. ‘It has to do, if you remember, with the peace which passes all understanding.’ Another verbal coup.
‘You’re damned clever, Roger,’ I said admiringly, ‘no wonder you’re a don. You always did talk back in that smart way. Shall I tell you something that came as a great surprise to me? I’m clever too. When I had a spell in the loony bin, a while back, the shrink measured my IQ.’
‘I never had any doubt of it,’ Roger said. ‘Listen. If you should ever need my help, Katherine, you’ve only to ask, okay? Remember, I’m your friend.’ King Cophetua and the Beggarmaid.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Goodbye, Roger.’
‘Come and see us,’ he said. ‘Sally would love to meet you and my daughter is always pleased to see Jonathan. You will come, won’t you? Come soon.’
‘Yes,’ I said. Jonathan was almost asleep when I got back.
‘Jon,’ I said, ‘could one actually fancy a man who prayed to God? I mean, be screwed by a bloke who’d just got off his knees?’
Before he fell asleep Jonathan, sensibly, offered me John Donne.