Lifesaving for Beginners

again. Like Dad. He says, ‘You had to be lifted out through the sunroof.’ That means that Mam had a Caesarean section, which is when the doctor cuts a bit of your stomach and takes the baby out that way. Mam was in labour for seventeen hours before that.
    Dad says, ‘Your mother was in labour for seventeen hours before the doctor took you out.’
    The next thing he’ll say is that Mam shouted so loudly that the foundations of the hospital shook and he thought the whole place would come tumbling down.
    ‘Your mother screeched so loudly I thought the roof would cave in.’ Sometimes, he changes it.
    At the traffic lights, everybody stares at us and stares at our car, with the Christmas tree poking out either side. I duck down as if I’m looking for something on the floor. I sit back up when we start moving.
    Dad says, ‘So?’
    I say, ‘What?’
    ‘Don’t say “what”, say “pardon”.’
    I don’t say anything, and after a while, Dad says, ‘So what would you like? For Christmas? And your birthday, of course.’
    ‘I’d like a new pair of goggles.’
    ‘Goggles?’
    ‘For my lifesaving class. The ones I have still work but they get fogged up really quickly now.’
    ‘You’re still into that?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘You must be brilliant at it by now.’
    ‘Well, Coach thinks I’m OK.’ Actually she said I was one of the best in the class, but I’m not a show-off, like George Pullman.
    ‘That’s great. What class are you in now?’
    ‘I’m still in the beginners’ class.’
    ‘Beginners’?’
    ‘Yeah. But I’ll be doing my exam in the spring. Coach thinks I’ll pass and then I’ll move up to intermediate.’
    ‘I should hope so. After all this time.’
    ‘Lifesaving is pretty tricky, you know. Even lifesaving for beginners.’
    ‘So that’s all you want, is it? Just goggles?’
    ‘They’re the Speedsocket Mirror ones. They’re dead expensive.’
    ‘Still. That doesn’t seem like a lot.’
    ‘That’s what I’d like.’ The Speedsocket ones are twenty-three pounds, but I don’t say that in case Dad says, ‘Highway robbery!’ again.
    ‘Shouldn’t you be looking for a sword? Or a bow and arrow, or something? I thought that’s what nine-year-old boys were into. Stuff like that.’
    I say, ‘I’m into lifesaving. We learn CPR and everything.’
    Dad looks at me again, but the road we’re on is fairly quiet. He says, ‘I hope you don’t have to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on any of the boys in your class.’ He laughs after he says this, like he’s cracked a joke.
    I say, ‘We practise on dummies, mostly.’
    He says, ‘Well, we’ll see what we can do about the goggles, OK?’ I nod. I don’t know why he’s saying ‘we’ when it’s just him. Maybe he means him and Celia. Or maybe him and Faith? I don’t think Faith has done any Christmas shopping yet.
    ‘The thing is, son . . .’
    I wish he’d call me Milo.
    ‘The thing is . . . well, we . . . Celia and me, I mean . . . we’d like you to come and stay with us for a while. After Christmas, I mean. And after the baby is born. When everything settles down. Celia was saying that—’
    ‘No.’
    ‘What do you mean, no? I haven’t even finished what I was saying.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Don’t use that tone with me, boy. You’ll go where you’re told. You’re nine years old and—’
    ‘I’m nearly ten.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Ten. I’m nearly ten, remember?’
    Dad doesn’t say anything for a while. He concentrates on driving, which I’m pretty glad about because there’s a cycle lane now and he has to be careful that he doesn’t hit any of the cyclists with the Christmas tree.
    After a while, he sighs and says, ‘That’s not the end of it, Milo. We’ll talk about it again. Another time. OK?’
    I don’t say anything so he says, ‘OK?’ again, louder this time, so I have to say, ‘OK,’ even though it’s not. It’s not OK.
    Nothing else happens until we pull into the driveway and then one end of the tree – I think it’s the top bit – gets squashed between the car door and the pillar. It’s still pretty much attached to the rest of the tree but only by a couple of splinters. Dad gets out, kicks the pillar and says, ‘Bloody hell!’ He tugs at the squashed bit of the tree and it comes away in his hand, which is just as well because now there’s a chance that the tree might fit in the sitting room.
    In the end, I have to ask Sully – who’s home from the war for a few days – to