Idiopathy

Katherine.
    ‘Tough,’ said Nathan.

    ‘D ear God,’ said Daniel. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, squeezing his cranium between his palms while Angelica wriggled her way into a pair of jeans. ‘Dear holy fucking Jesus fucking God make this evening be over.’ He made a grab for the waistband of her jeans and pulled her sharply towards him, then wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek to her stomach. ‘I’m so glad you’re back.’
    ‘I’m glad I’m back,’ she said, rubbing his hair. ‘And I’m glad I came back when I did.’ She laughed.
    ‘Sorry about that,’ said Daniel. ‘I must have looked ridiculous.’
    ‘Nooooo,’ she said, ruffling his fringe and settling into the kind of voice a loving owner might use for their ageing English Shepherd. ‘You looked very brave. I was proud of you.’
    ‘Hmmm,’ he said, enjoying the feeling of her fingers against his scalp.
    ‘That was something you’ve wanted to say for years,’ said Angelica. ‘And now you’ve said it. It’s out. It’s gone.’
    ‘Silly,’ said Daniel.
    ‘Nooooo,’ said Angelica.
    He hugged her a little tighter. He would, he saw now, always be able to settle back into this: this sense of comfort and ease; of reassurance and reliability. Much as it might have been what he feared – the unbending known-ness of the day-to-day – it was also what he wanted, what he needed. Much as he might have wanted to be someone else, he thought, there was no one else he knew how to be.
    ‘Tell me about you,’ he said, releasing her and patting the bed beside him. ‘What happened?’
    She shook her head. ‘To be honest, I just thought,
What’s the point?
We made our banners, did a bit of shouting. Sebastian went on the news. He got more and more puffed up. More and more cocky. He started saying we needed to make some kind of statement; do something shocking. I just thought, About what?’ She laughed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Sebastian’s an old friend, but he doesn’t give a fuck about cows.’
    ‘Probably not,’ Daniel said.
    ‘Anyway, I was glad I left when I did.’
    ‘Why?’
    She looked at him. ‘Oh of course,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t have seen the news. They’re not letting them leave. The protestors. I’ve had about ten texts. Some sort of quarantine or something. So now they’re stuck there till God knows when.’
    ‘Quarantine for what?’
    ‘It’s just a way of containing the demonstration. They’ll wait till it’s all died down and then send them home.’
    ‘So Sebastian’s with them?’
    ‘I don’t know. He threw a wobbly and went off on his own.’
    ‘Hm.’ He gave her another hug. ‘Well I’m glad you’re home,’ he said.
    ‘Me too,’ she said.
    He stood up. ‘Right. Better face the music.’
    She gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ll be right down. It’ll be fine.’
    Her phone rang. She picked it up off the bed and answered it.
    ‘Hello?’ She covered the mouthpiece with one hand and mouthed to Daniel:
Sebastian
. Daniel sat back down on the bed. ‘Hello?’ Angelica said again. ‘Hello, Sebastian? I can’t … It’s hard to …’
    Daniel gestured at her to hang up, but she held up a finger, making a sorry face as she did so.
    ‘What? No, I don’t … Well … No I don’t think …’ She covered the mouthpiece again. ‘He says he’s on his way here,’ she said. ‘He needs help apparently.’
    ‘No,’ said Daniel, then, when he saw Angelica’s face drop a little with disappointment, ‘Alright, alright. Whatever.’
    Thank you
, Angelica mouthed.
    Everything, Daniel thought, was going back to the way it had been. Sebastian would come round. He’d be annoying. Perhaps they’d argue. Angelica would keep the peace. He’d feel frustrated and annoyed but not, he thought, anything beyond that. He would be able to handle it. In many ways, he thought, it would be reassuring.

    O f course, Nathan said, he was disappointed after they’d talked that night. Not that it was Katherine’s fault, but he’d built up a certain vision of the future that was hard to let go. He’d felt, for a short time, like something inside him had opened up,
blossomed
, if you wanted to be clichéd about it, and then suddenly it was like he had to close it all back up again and he didn’t know how. People always said that things were better when you talked about them, when you shared them, and although now after his experiences in treatment