NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR by Jake Holland
A woman living with her parents is troubled when her recently divorced stepbrother Theo moves in and starts a relationship with their vacuum cleaner.
Theo was spending too much time with Harry.
'How long does it take to hoover a bedroom,' I said. 'He keeps it running all night.'
'It helps him sleep,' Mum said. 'Like white noise.'
It was Sunday, so we were all eating together. Mum was at one end of the table. My stepfather at the other. My stepbrother Theo, in the middle. And there, in the seat directly opposite me, was Harry with his psychotic, plastic grin.
Theo got up from his chair. 'I know it sounds strange, but do you mind if I switch on Harry for a bit?'
'Of course not,' Mum said.
My stepfather stared down at his bowl, bringing a spoon to his lips. 'Fine by me.'
We sat in silence slurping our soup while Harry sucked up his air.
'I can't eat with that thing staring at me,' I said.
Mum dabbed her mouth with a napkin. 'Theo would prefer it if you refer to the hoover as "Harry."'
'That's alright,' Theo said. 'I'm a guest in this house. It wouldn't be fair of me to barge in and start making demands.'
'Nonsense!' Mum said. 'You're a part of this family. We love having you here. And we love Harry, don't we Dad.'
'Hmm?'
'I've lost my appetite.' I said. 'I'm going to bed.'
Upstairs, as I lay staring at the green indicator light on the carbon monoxide detector, I couldn't hear Harry anymore. Just the muffled moans on the other side of the wall. Was Theo crying?
I don't care what anyone says. You can't have a relationship with a domestic appliance. No matter what you do to Harry, whether you pull him by the hose or kick him across the room, he looks at you with the same compliant expression on his face. No matter what you say to him, he tells you what you want to hear, which is apparently NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Harry can't say honey, are you sure you want another drink? Harry can't say that you were being obnoxious last night when you thought you were being charming. Harry can't say actually, I don't feel like hoovering right now. Harry can't do anything but make the same incessant sucking sound, consuming everything that comes into his path, whether a piece of sausage or a toenail. That's because Harry is an inanimate object. His head is empty, however much his knowing grin suggests a type of intelligence. Inside, you'll find nothing but a bag full of dust. (And, as the case may be, hair bands and pennies.) His mind is a void. He's literally a vacuum.
Just as I was falling asleep, there was a knock at my door. Mum let herself in before I had the chance to answer. 'I don't think you were being fair to Theo at dinner.'
'There's a 37-year-old man sleeping next door to your daughter, running the hoover all night, doing who knows what with the nozzle. Doesn't that bother you?'
She sat down on the edge of my bed. 'Your stepbrother has been having a difficult time since his divorce. If Harry makes him feel more comfortable living here, who are we to judge?'
'He's a grown man. He should have his own house.'
'Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical? You're twenty-eight. It isn't as if you've found your own flat.'
'This is my childhood home. I grew up here. Theo has no right to move in.'
'Look,' Mum said, 'I don't necessarily love having Theo here either, but it means a lot to your stepfather. Give Theo a chance. If you won't do it for him, do it for me.'
The next day, Theo finally left the house long enough for me to use Harry. Since they'd started their 'relationship,' the floors had become filthy. When I opened the door to Theo's room, the carpet was covered in debris. Whatever he and Harry had been doing up here, it wasn't hoovering.
I hadn't been alone with Harry five minutes when Theo appeared in the doorway behind me. 'What are you two up to?'
'What does it look like? This room is revolting.'
Theo set down his shopping. 'I think we both know this isn't about Harry.'
'It's precisely about Harry.'
'I know that living with me has been a big adjustment. But I hope that we can be friends.'
'I don't care where you live. If I find this thing in your room one more time, I'll cut the fucking cord. I know what you're doing up here, and I think it's disgusting.'
'I'm sorry you feel that way.'
'Why don't you give the hoover a rest and go sort yourself out the old-fashioned way? Harry will thank you for it.'
My friend Molly was home from her Master's course, and I was looking forward to getting my mind off Harry. We went to the only pub in the village, where the only DJ in the village was playing songs that hadn't been out of fashion long enough to come back in fashion yet. Purple spotlights illuminated a carpet from 2013. An old man sat in the corner, staring at my legs. And there, in the middle of the dance floor, was my stepbrother with his fucking vacuum cleaner. He'd somehow persuaded the barman to let him plug in his adoring appliance so they could dance. Rather, so he could hoover. They were gliding back and forth like an old couple at a wedding - lost in their own tempo while everyone gyrated around them.
'Hey,' Molly said. 'Isn't that Ian?'
I looked to the bar, where Ian was ordering a drink. The DJ played another song from ten years ago. It ambled along slowly, as if it'd taken a decade to get here, which in a way it had. Theo retracted Harry's cord so they could sit this one out. I shifted in my seat.
Molly took a sip of her cider. 'Ian's coming over here.'
Ian walked towards me. Ian kept walking past me. Ian, it turned out, was walking over to Theo. 'May I have this dance?'
Ian led Harry onto the dance floor. Was he mocking Theo? He did have a cruel sense of humour. And to be fair, it was hard not to mock Theo. But the longer Ian danced with Harry, twirling him by the hose, gracefully stepping over his cord, the more he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.
'Men are disgusting,' I said.
'Why do you care so much about Harry?' Molly said.
'I don't.'
Someone walked over to Molly. 'Hey, everyone's going back to Theo and Harry's house!' They put their hand on my shoulder. 'Are you coming?'
I switched on my vibrator. NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. It overrode the muffled, lowercase hum on the other side of my bedroom wall. rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Even I had to admit they sounded similar, Theo's hoover and my Hitachi. But at least I wasn't using my vibrator to clean the carpet.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the noise... RRRRRRRRRRR... Ian approaches me in a garden... RRRRRRRRRRR... Why were we always in a garden? ...RRRRRRRRRRR... It's hard to date when you live with your hoover... RRRRRRRRRRR... Anyway, back to the garden... RRRRRRRRRRR... My feet are warm in the sun, my face cool in the shade... RRRRRRRRRRR... Maybe it was time for me to find my own place... RRRRRRRRRRR... Ian takes off his shirt... RRRRRRRRRRR... Apparently Molly's friend was looking for a flatmate... RRRRRRRRRRR... He lifts up my dress... RRRRRRRRRRR... I had enough money to move out... RRRRRRRRRRR... The grass leaves indentations on my thighs... RRRRRRRRRRR... So what was stopping me? ...RRRRRRRRRRR...
Outside, a man was mowing his lawn. A woman was sweeping the pavement. A teenager was raking leaves.
Had the whole world gone mad?
A FOR SALE sign had appeared in front of the house across the street. I could hear someone hoovering. rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. An estate agent stood in the open window with her hands on her hips. I guessed she must be preparing for a viewing. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Theo's ex-wife. This was the type of woman Theo might have been interested in if he wasn't so preoccupied with Harry, whom he was presently using to hoover this three-bedroom, end-of-terrace property. Yes, Theo and Harry were 'touring' the house while the estate agent pointed out the ample sockets. 'The owners have just fitted new carpets.' The smile on her face was as frozen, as psychotic, as difficult to parse as Harry's plastic grin.
I switched on Harry for a heart-to-heart. Rather, a heart-to-hoover. Rather, I found myself talking to Harry while I hoovered the hall.
'I hear that you and Theo are moving in together.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I plan to move out too, you know.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I'm thinking of doing a Master's.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I don't know, maybe environmental science?'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'There's a good programme in Bristol.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I just don't want to take on any more debt.'
Theo's new house was bigger than ours. Three bedrooms with plenty of carpets. Multiple sockets in every room. A newly renovated cleaning cupboard. He must have used the money from his divorce. Yet all of his belongings fit into a few cardboard boxes. All of them, that is, except for Harry.
'What about your little friend?' I asked.
'Oh,' Theo said, 'the hoover? Harry's gotten me through some difficult times, but I think he prefers it here with Mum and Dad. Don't you, Harry?'
Harry stared up at us with the same plastic grin as always, holding eye contact for as long as we dared look at him.
'I want to thank you for welcoming me into your home,' Theo said. 'You and your mum were a great comfort to me during the divorce.'
'Don't mention it.'
'Mind looking after Harry while I'm away?'
'You mean, do I mind keeping Mum's house tidy?'
'I mean, do you mind keeping him company. Harry's a great listener. He never pulls out his phone at dinner. He never interrupts you in the middle of an anecdote. He never judges you. Sure he's a bit loud, but you'll get used to the noise.'
It was Sunday, so we were all eating together. Mum was at one end of the table. My stepfather was at the other. I was in the middle.
We sat in silence slurping our soup.
Mum dabbed her mouth with a napkin. 'I must say,' she said, 'I miss having Theo and Harry here.'
My stepfather stared down at his bowl, bringing a spoon to his lips. 'Hmm?'
'Such lively conversation.'
'Mmm.'
'And my carpets had never been cleaner!'
Actually, the carpets had never been filthier than when Theo was monopolising Harry as a white-noise machine, which is a generous reading of what he was doing with the hoover, but it wasn't worth saying that out loud. Why let reality get in the way of what was obviously supposed to be a joke, never mind the fact that no one was laughing aside from Mum herself, who'd resorted to chuckling at her own witticism. 'Ha!'
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin again. 'Your stepfather and I are going to an exhibit tomorrow -'
'We are?'
'As I say,' she said, 'your stepfather and I are going to an exhibit tomorrow. Would you mind walking Harry around the house while we're out?'
With Mum and my stepfather out of the house the next day - and Theo gone - the place was quieter than it'd been in months. I sat on the sofa, trying to enjoy the silence. Then I plugged in the hoover.
'What do you say, Harry. Fancy a walk?'
NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
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'How long does it take to hoover a bedroom,' I said. 'He keeps it running all night.'
'It helps him sleep,' Mum said. 'Like white noise.'
It was Sunday, so we were all eating together. Mum was at one end of the table. My stepfather at the other. My stepbrother Theo, in the middle. And there, in the seat directly opposite me, was Harry with his psychotic, plastic grin.
Theo got up from his chair. 'I know it sounds strange, but do you mind if I switch on Harry for a bit?'
'Of course not,' Mum said.
My stepfather stared down at his bowl, bringing a spoon to his lips. 'Fine by me.'
We sat in silence slurping our soup while Harry sucked up his air.
'I can't eat with that thing staring at me,' I said.
Mum dabbed her mouth with a napkin. 'Theo would prefer it if you refer to the hoover as "Harry."'
'That's alright,' Theo said. 'I'm a guest in this house. It wouldn't be fair of me to barge in and start making demands.'
'Nonsense!' Mum said. 'You're a part of this family. We love having you here. And we love Harry, don't we Dad.'
'Hmm?'
'I've lost my appetite.' I said. 'I'm going to bed.'
Upstairs, as I lay staring at the green indicator light on the carbon monoxide detector, I couldn't hear Harry anymore. Just the muffled moans on the other side of the wall. Was Theo crying?
I don't care what anyone says. You can't have a relationship with a domestic appliance. No matter what you do to Harry, whether you pull him by the hose or kick him across the room, he looks at you with the same compliant expression on his face. No matter what you say to him, he tells you what you want to hear, which is apparently NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Harry can't say honey, are you sure you want another drink? Harry can't say that you were being obnoxious last night when you thought you were being charming. Harry can't say actually, I don't feel like hoovering right now. Harry can't do anything but make the same incessant sucking sound, consuming everything that comes into his path, whether a piece of sausage or a toenail. That's because Harry is an inanimate object. His head is empty, however much his knowing grin suggests a type of intelligence. Inside, you'll find nothing but a bag full of dust. (And, as the case may be, hair bands and pennies.) His mind is a void. He's literally a vacuum.
Just as I was falling asleep, there was a knock at my door. Mum let herself in before I had the chance to answer. 'I don't think you were being fair to Theo at dinner.'
'There's a 37-year-old man sleeping next door to your daughter, running the hoover all night, doing who knows what with the nozzle. Doesn't that bother you?'
She sat down on the edge of my bed. 'Your stepbrother has been having a difficult time since his divorce. If Harry makes him feel more comfortable living here, who are we to judge?'
'He's a grown man. He should have his own house.'
'Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical? You're twenty-eight. It isn't as if you've found your own flat.'
'This is my childhood home. I grew up here. Theo has no right to move in.'
'Look,' Mum said, 'I don't necessarily love having Theo here either, but it means a lot to your stepfather. Give Theo a chance. If you won't do it for him, do it for me.'
The next day, Theo finally left the house long enough for me to use Harry. Since they'd started their 'relationship,' the floors had become filthy. When I opened the door to Theo's room, the carpet was covered in debris. Whatever he and Harry had been doing up here, it wasn't hoovering.
I hadn't been alone with Harry five minutes when Theo appeared in the doorway behind me. 'What are you two up to?'
'What does it look like? This room is revolting.'
Theo set down his shopping. 'I think we both know this isn't about Harry.'
'It's precisely about Harry.'
'I know that living with me has been a big adjustment. But I hope that we can be friends.'
'I don't care where you live. If I find this thing in your room one more time, I'll cut the fucking cord. I know what you're doing up here, and I think it's disgusting.'
'I'm sorry you feel that way.'
'Why don't you give the hoover a rest and go sort yourself out the old-fashioned way? Harry will thank you for it.'
My friend Molly was home from her Master's course, and I was looking forward to getting my mind off Harry. We went to the only pub in the village, where the only DJ in the village was playing songs that hadn't been out of fashion long enough to come back in fashion yet. Purple spotlights illuminated a carpet from 2013. An old man sat in the corner, staring at my legs. And there, in the middle of the dance floor, was my stepbrother with his fucking vacuum cleaner. He'd somehow persuaded the barman to let him plug in his adoring appliance so they could dance. Rather, so he could hoover. They were gliding back and forth like an old couple at a wedding - lost in their own tempo while everyone gyrated around them.
'Hey,' Molly said. 'Isn't that Ian?'
I looked to the bar, where Ian was ordering a drink. The DJ played another song from ten years ago. It ambled along slowly, as if it'd taken a decade to get here, which in a way it had. Theo retracted Harry's cord so they could sit this one out. I shifted in my seat.
Molly took a sip of her cider. 'Ian's coming over here.'
Ian walked towards me. Ian kept walking past me. Ian, it turned out, was walking over to Theo. 'May I have this dance?'
Ian led Harry onto the dance floor. Was he mocking Theo? He did have a cruel sense of humour. And to be fair, it was hard not to mock Theo. But the longer Ian danced with Harry, twirling him by the hose, gracefully stepping over his cord, the more he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.
'Men are disgusting,' I said.
'Why do you care so much about Harry?' Molly said.
'I don't.'
Someone walked over to Molly. 'Hey, everyone's going back to Theo and Harry's house!' They put their hand on my shoulder. 'Are you coming?'
I switched on my vibrator. NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. It overrode the muffled, lowercase hum on the other side of my bedroom wall. rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Even I had to admit they sounded similar, Theo's hoover and my Hitachi. But at least I wasn't using my vibrator to clean the carpet.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the noise... RRRRRRRRRRR... Ian approaches me in a garden... RRRRRRRRRRR... Why were we always in a garden? ...RRRRRRRRRRR... It's hard to date when you live with your hoover... RRRRRRRRRRR... Anyway, back to the garden... RRRRRRRRRRR... My feet are warm in the sun, my face cool in the shade... RRRRRRRRRRR... Maybe it was time for me to find my own place... RRRRRRRRRRR... Ian takes off his shirt... RRRRRRRRRRR... Apparently Molly's friend was looking for a flatmate... RRRRRRRRRRR... He lifts up my dress... RRRRRRRRRRR... I had enough money to move out... RRRRRRRRRRR... The grass leaves indentations on my thighs... RRRRRRRRRRR... So what was stopping me? ...RRRRRRRRRRR...
Outside, a man was mowing his lawn. A woman was sweeping the pavement. A teenager was raking leaves.
Had the whole world gone mad?
A FOR SALE sign had appeared in front of the house across the street. I could hear someone hoovering. rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. An estate agent stood in the open window with her hands on her hips. I guessed she must be preparing for a viewing. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Theo's ex-wife. This was the type of woman Theo might have been interested in if he wasn't so preoccupied with Harry, whom he was presently using to hoover this three-bedroom, end-of-terrace property. Yes, Theo and Harry were 'touring' the house while the estate agent pointed out the ample sockets. 'The owners have just fitted new carpets.' The smile on her face was as frozen, as psychotic, as difficult to parse as Harry's plastic grin.
I switched on Harry for a heart-to-heart. Rather, a heart-to-hoover. Rather, I found myself talking to Harry while I hoovered the hall.
'I hear that you and Theo are moving in together.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I plan to move out too, you know.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I'm thinking of doing a Master's.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I don't know, maybe environmental science?'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'There's a good programme in Bristol.'
'RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.'
'I just don't want to take on any more debt.'
Theo's new house was bigger than ours. Three bedrooms with plenty of carpets. Multiple sockets in every room. A newly renovated cleaning cupboard. He must have used the money from his divorce. Yet all of his belongings fit into a few cardboard boxes. All of them, that is, except for Harry.
'What about your little friend?' I asked.
'Oh,' Theo said, 'the hoover? Harry's gotten me through some difficult times, but I think he prefers it here with Mum and Dad. Don't you, Harry?'
Harry stared up at us with the same plastic grin as always, holding eye contact for as long as we dared look at him.
'I want to thank you for welcoming me into your home,' Theo said. 'You and your mum were a great comfort to me during the divorce.'
'Don't mention it.'
'Mind looking after Harry while I'm away?'
'You mean, do I mind keeping Mum's house tidy?'
'I mean, do you mind keeping him company. Harry's a great listener. He never pulls out his phone at dinner. He never interrupts you in the middle of an anecdote. He never judges you. Sure he's a bit loud, but you'll get used to the noise.'
It was Sunday, so we were all eating together. Mum was at one end of the table. My stepfather was at the other. I was in the middle.
We sat in silence slurping our soup.
Mum dabbed her mouth with a napkin. 'I must say,' she said, 'I miss having Theo and Harry here.'
My stepfather stared down at his bowl, bringing a spoon to his lips. 'Hmm?'
'Such lively conversation.'
'Mmm.'
'And my carpets had never been cleaner!'
Actually, the carpets had never been filthier than when Theo was monopolising Harry as a white-noise machine, which is a generous reading of what he was doing with the hoover, but it wasn't worth saying that out loud. Why let reality get in the way of what was obviously supposed to be a joke, never mind the fact that no one was laughing aside from Mum herself, who'd resorted to chuckling at her own witticism. 'Ha!'
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin again. 'Your stepfather and I are going to an exhibit tomorrow -'
'We are?'
'As I say,' she said, 'your stepfather and I are going to an exhibit tomorrow. Would you mind walking Harry around the house while we're out?'
With Mum and my stepfather out of the house the next day - and Theo gone - the place was quieter than it'd been in months. I sat on the sofa, trying to enjoy the silence. Then I plugged in the hoover.
'What do you say, Harry. Fancy a walk?'
NRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
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