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Gollum comes and sits on Les’s knee, though I’m not totally sure he’s not expecting him to be Jonathan. “Maybe, but the best I could weren’t much.”
“It was enough, though,” I tell him, and I surprise myself with how adamant I sound.
“Was it?”
“It has to be,” I say, “else what’s the point?”
There’s not much more to talk about after that. I let him know that Jonathan’ll be back this evening and that he’s welcome to wait but I can’t say exactly how long it’ll be, and he tells me that he needs to be getting back on account of how Wendy wants him to pick up a leg of lamb on the way.
In the doorway, as he’s leaving, he puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good lad too, Sam.”
When he’s gone, I wash up the mugs and—it’s funny—I don’t start tearing up exactly, but I do get this sense of…I don’t know. Something empty like.
“Just you and me now,” I tell Gollum as I put the mugs away.
He looks up at me andmiaows.
“Alright,” I say, “I don’t like it any more than you do.”
Now he makes a sort ofmrrgingnoise that’s like a purr only antsy.
“It’s not your dinnertime yet.”
Hemrrgsagain.
“No.”
I sit down and he sits at my feet looking up at me with an expression of pure accusation. And I’m glad he’s here in a lot of ways, for all he’s a selfish little bastard most of the time. It’s just things keep happening to remind me of everybody else that could be here too but isn’t. Like Les and Wendy. Like my mam, my dad, and my gran. Even like Jonathan fucking Forest, who’s not around even when he’s around these days.
My mam called me Samwise, but maybe she should’ve called me Frodo. Because I’m starting to feel invisible. Or like something got stuck in me and didn’t heal right.
Gollummrrgsone last time, and I give in. “Okay,” I tell him, “you can have one of your treats. You’ve not earned it, mind.”
I feed Gollum a couple of Felix Salmon and Trout Crispies, not that he’s grateful. While he’s eating them, I slump back on the sofa and flick on the telly, looking for a way to switch my brain off.
I find something to watch in the end. Though if you asked me afterwards, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what it was.
CHAPTER 22
I’m feeling better when jonathan gets home that evening. Maybe because he’s come in so late I’ve just sort of drifted back to normal. Gollum, of course, is delighted to see him and rubs cat hair all up Jonathan’s black suit—which, despite his long stayover in Grumpsville, Jonathan doesn’t seem to mind.
“There’s a lasagne in the fridge,” I say. “And your dad popped round.”
Jonathan, who’s been bending down to greet Gollum, goes very still. “Why?”
“I just fancied making a lasagne.”
Time was, this would have got one of those not-quite-a-smiles. “I meant,” Jonathan snaps, “why did my father come round?”
“Why’d you think?”
“Sam”—he straightens up again, Gollum fully in his arms now, purring and paws akimbo—“are you doing this on purpose?”
“No,” I tell him, deciding the moral high ground looks like too much of a hike. “Words are just coming out of my mouth at random and forming sentences by pure coincidence.” I sigh. “Your dad came round because you had a massive row and he felt terrible.”
Jonathan’s already beelining for his study. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same person? My father has never displayed a strong emotion in his life.”
“Neither do you mostly but you still have ‘em.”
