Beside the Sea by Veronique Olmi Page A

door.
    We got to the sixth floor. There weren’t any more stairs after that, we couldn’t get it wrong. When it came to an end that was where we belonged. We knew that.

5
    The room was freezing, the heating had gone off, I didn’t have the strength to go and see the bloke downstairs. Last floor. Last leg. I wasn’t going back down. I wouldn’t complain, he could watch his match in peace. I felt the cold in there straight away, but I also noticed straight away that the room was lit by the moon. Not a beautiful round moon, no, but nearly a half, a roughly drawn shape but it shed a little light on the bed, there didn’t have to be just rain in the sky, no, there could be something else, we’d moved on to something else.
    Kevin wanted to go straight to bed. I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to be clean. To have the face of a five-year-old, with no black stains from his tears and the rain, no snot or salt from his chips, no reminders of that day.
    I dragged him to the bathroom and ran some water over his face, wiping away the stains and the hours, all those hours, I wiped everything awayexcept his tiredness, but that… was for later. I gave him a farty kiss on his neck. He laughed. I did it again. He laughed again, a little laugh that couldn’t cope any more, slightly irritable, slightly surprised too, normally farty kisses are on the stomach and on Sundays. But weren’t we at home here? And seeing as we didn’t know the time and seeing as we didn’t know the day, we were free to do what we liked! But Stan came and joined us and told us to stop, we were making too much noise. There’s no one here, I said, they’re all at the fair, all out in the rain and we’re never going to get soaked like that again, I’ll never let that happen again, never, I swear to you. Your hair’s still wet, he said, like I was a liar but at the same time I could tell he wanted to take care of me but couldn’t seem to, he couldn’t seem to any more. Have a wash and go to bed, I said and I took Kevin in my arms to cope with that big brown corridor.
    How long was it since I’d carried a child in my arms? Billions of years. Kids grow up fast, they stick out in every direction, they’re heavy, then you can only hold them by the hand but not hug them to you any more, otherwise you knock into each other, you don’t know how to go about it, you get an arm or a shoulder in the way, you never find the right position. It isn’t any better with babies. You’re frightened you’ll drop them, or make them sick, everyone says, Careful with his head! you have to hold the head, it’sfragile, it’s heavy, it can bump into things or tip back or twist the neck, it’s dangerous holding a baby in your arms, it doesn’t matter how often they show you how to in hospital, it’s not reassuring, that’s for sure. And when the head does stay put all on its own, the baby’s not a baby any more and cuddles hurt. Maybe the only real cuddle is in your tummy, when you’ve still got the baby in your tummy, I mean. No one to tell you what to do, to say you’re pampering it too much or not enough or not at the right time. You mustn’t wake a baby. You mustn’t ruin his appetite. You mustn’t hurt his head. You’re just with him. That’s all. You’re with him.
    Kevin and Stanley were clean, they were ready for the night, as they said, yes, they often said I’m getting ready for the night, it’s nice, getting yourself all sorted for the night, they never say I’m getting ready for the day, because daytime doesn’t really warrant it, you’ve go to do it so you do, that’s all, but at night there’s a sort of preparation, like before a journey.
    They got into bed, already accustomed to that brown hotel, the rain on the window, the false noonoo and even the cold, but I was afraid of the cold, I knew we had to fight it, that we should always head towards the warm not the cold, not into its world, its jaws, the sea of ice… like a glacier, what is