‘It’s time to lie down now, Lars,’ said Delilah. Teleporting was a handy skill that Lars would like to develop. He would order Teleporting for Dummies. He felt like that was the kind of witticism his new friend Frances would appreciate, but he saw that Frances was with Yao, lying down on one of the stretchers, trustingly lifting her head as Yao placed a mask over her eyes.

‘Up you get.’ Delilah offered her hand. Lars was momentarily transfixed by a thick, lustrous curl of black hair that fell over her shoulder. He studied it for an hour and then he took her hand.

‘I know all about bad marriages,’ Lars explained as he let her haul him to his feet. Delilah was as strong and powerful as Wonder Woman and she also strongly resembled Wonder Woman. She was quite wondrous in many ways, although he would not let her near his hair.

‘Let’s talk about that more in a moment,’ said Delilah, as she led him to a stretcher. ‘We can explore it during your guided therapy.’

‘No thank you, sweetheart, I’ve already done years of therapy,’ said Lars. ‘There is nothing I don’t already know about my psyche.’

He thought of all those fat files crammed with pages of handwritten words about the Great Mysteries of Lars, which could in reality be summed up in a few paltry paragraphs.

When Lars was ten his father left his mother for a woman called Gwen. There may have been nice Gwens in the world, but Lars doubted it. His mother was screwed in the financial settlement. Now Lars spent his days eviscerating wealthy men who left their wives: an endless, pointless revenge fantasy against his long-dead father, a job which he found emotionally and financially satisfying.

He was a control freak because he’d lost control of his life when he was a kid, and weird about money because he’d grown up with none, and he wasn’t sufficiently vulnerable in his relationships because . . . he didn’t want to be vulnerable. He loved Ray, but there was a part of himself he withheld, because Ray had had a happy, functional childhood, and it seemed Lars subconsciously wanted to punch him in the face for having the happy childhood that Lars didn’t get. That was it. Nothing more to know, nothing more to learn. A few years ago Lars had swapped therapy for health resorts, and Ray took up cycling and got skinny and obsessed like all city cyclists. Life was good.

‘You haven’t done this sort of therapy,’ said Delilah.

‘No thank you,’ said Lars firmly and politely. ‘I’ll just take the trip.’

Lars lay down and got himself comfortable. Big Tony, Smiley Hogburn, lay on the stretcher next to his. Masha kneeled by his side, tucking him in with swift sure movements like he was a giant, grizzled baby. Lars met Tony’s eyes just before Masha covered them with a mask. It was like looking into the terrified eyes of a prisoner. Poor Tony. Just relax and enjoy it, big man.

Delilah leaned in close to Lars, her breath warm and sweet. ‘I’m going to leave you for a moment, but I’ll be back to check in on you and to talk about whatever is on your mind.’

‘There’s nothing on my mind,’ said Lars. ‘Don’t you touch my hair while I’m asleep, Delilah.’

‘Very funny. I’ve never heard that joke before. Masha and Yao are here too. You’re not on your own. You’re in safe hands, Lars. If there is anything you need, just ask.’

‘That’s sweet,’ said Lars.

Delilah put the mask over his eyes and headphones over his ears.

‘Look for the stars,’ said Delilah.

Classical music cascaded from the headphones directly into his brain. He could hear each note separately, in its entirety, with absolute purity. It was extraordinary.

A little boy with dark hair and a dirty face said to Lars, ‘Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’

‘No thanks, buddy,’ said Lars. ‘I’m busy right now.’

He recognised this little kid. It was his boyhood self, little Lars, trying to give him a message.

‘Please,’ said the little boy, and he took Lars’s hand. ‘I’ve got something I need to show you.’

‘Maybe later,’ said Lars, pulling his hand free. ‘I’m busy right now. You go play.’

Remember this, he thought. Remember it all. He would tell Ray all about it when he got home. Ray would be interested. He was always interested in everything that happened to Lars. His face so earnest and open and hopeful.

Ray didn’t want to take anything from him. All Ray wanted was his love.

For a moment that simple thought was everything, it hung there suspended in his consciousness, the answer to every question, the key to every lock, but then his mind exploded into a billion purple petals.

chapter thirty-two

Zoe

Zoe’s dad was refusing to lie down and put on his headphones, and those were the rules, but her dad didn’t want to follow them and that was the first time in Zoe’s life that she had ever seen her dad break the rules and it was so funny and awesome.

Zoe carefully pressed each of her fingertips against her thumbs as she watched Masha try to convince her dad to lie down. Her mum was shouting: ‘Illegal . . . Unconscionable! . . . Appalling!’

Tags: Liane Moriarty Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net