They both sat quietly for a moment. “What did he do for a living?” I asked.
I wasn’t interested, but I felt it was appropriate. “Gas engineer,” Raymond said.
His mother nodded. “He worked hard all his days,” she said,
“and we never wanted for anything, did we, Raymond? We had a holiday every year, and a nice wee car.
At least he got to see our Denise married, anyway—that’s something.” I must have looked puzzled.
“My sister,” Raymond explained. “Och, for goodness’ sake, Raymond.
Too busy talking about football and computers, no doubt,
and I don’t suppose she wants to hear about that sort of thing anyway. Boys, eh, Eleanor?”
She shook her head at me, smiling. This was puzzling.
How on earth could you forget that you had a sister? He hadn’t forgotten, I supposed—
he’d simply taken his sibling for granted: an unchanging, unremarkable fact of life, not even worthy of mention.
It was impossible for me to imagine such a scenario, alone as I was.
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