The Kindness

The car finally ground to a halt in the darkest, most desolate country road on the planet.

‘Typical,’ hissed Gerry, slamming both fists on the steering wheel.

He was already an hour late thanks to the car playing up for most of the journey from London to the Dorset village where his parents lived. He pictured them now, impatiently waiting, his father saying for the fortieth time, ‘Wonder what’s keeping him?’ and his mother snapping something to the effect of, ‘Stop asking the same bloody thing over and over!’

He’d have rung them, but, in another stroke of great fortune, he’d forgotten to bring his phone charger, and his phone was now dead, having been providing a soundtrack to the dismal drive for the past two and a half hours.

So, dead car, dead phone, deserted country road somewhere in Dorset — possibly. He wasn’t even sure how he’d been intending to navigate the remainder of the journey with no phone, as he’d been using it as a sat nav. It had lived long enough to direct him away from a major pile-up on the M27, hence his current whereabouts.

Gerry glanced around. There was woodland on both sides of the narrow road and not a streetlamp in sight. Why the Hell would his phone have brought him this way? Did this part of the world not have A-roads?

He swore several times, hit the steering wheel again for good measure then released an involuntary sob.

A loud clash of thunder was quickly followed by a blinding flash of lightning, and rain hammered down on the car roof.

Gerry sobbed again.

Someone tapped on the window.

Gerry squealed.

‘Hello there!’ A man of around fifty with thinning brown hair and wearing tortoiseshell-framed glasses was beaming at him, while standing in the torrential downpour, holding up a small umbrella that was buckling under the weight of the rain.

Gerry wound down his side window a crack. ‘Hello?’

‘Have you broken down?’ asked the man, almost shouting to be heard over the storm.

‘Yes.’

‘I live just down the little slip road there.’ The stranger pointed vaguely behind him. ‘I saw the beam of your headlights as you pulled over and heard the awful noise your engine was making. Thought I’d better come and check if you needed help.’

‘Do you have a phone I could use to call a breakdown service, and my parents to let them know I’m delayed?’

‘Absolutely.’ The man nodded enthusiastically. ‘I only have a landline though, so you’ll need to come to the house.’

Gerry scowled at the violent weather.

‘Here!’ The man thrust his umbrella towards the car. ‘You can use this. I don’t mind getting wet.’

The amicable stranger was drenched within seconds, rain flattening his sparse hair to his pale scalp.

‘No, that’s fine,’ said Gerry, grabbing his mack from the back seat. ‘You’ll drown!’

‘Honestly, I don’t mind.’ The man stepped back so that Gerry could open his car door.

‘Lead the way,’ said Gerry, pulling his mack over his head rather than putting it on.

‘I’m Gerry, by the way!’

The man catered ahead, frequently glancing back to check on Gerry.

‘I’m Nathaniel!’ he called.

Mud splashed up Gerry’s legs, dousing his trousers in unsightly brown sludge. His parents would not be impressed, if he ever made it to their house, which was looking doubtful.

‘I have clothes you can change into,’ said Nathanial as they reached his home — a small brick cottage set in a square of grass behind a rickety wooden fence. There were no other houses in sight. Nathaniel pushed open the blue front door and ushered Gerry inside.

‘Oh, it’s warm,’ said Gerry as he stepped into the narrow hallway.

‘I can turn the heating down if it’s too hot for you.’ Nathaniel reached out his hand for Gerry’s drenched mack, which he carried through to a cosy living room, which was even warmer than the hallway thanks to a roaring open fire.

‘This will dry in no time,’ he said, placing the coat on the back of a chair which he had pushed a few feet from the fire. ‘Slip your clothes off and we can get them dry too. I’ll fetch you something to wear in the meantime.’

Alarm bells rang in Gerry’s head. ‘I really just need to use your phone, Mate. I don’t need a change of clothes.’

Nathaniel looked concerned. ‘I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?’

‘If you could just show me where the phone is.’ Gerry kept his voice measured, cool but not hostile. Nathaniel hadn’t actually done anything inappropriate yet.

‘Please forgive me if I offended you in any way.’ Nathaniel looked desperate now, hands clasped and clutched to his chest as if praying.

‘It’s all good, buddy. Is the phone in the hallway? I didn’t notice it when we came in.’

‘It’s in the kitchen, this way.’ Nathanial scuttled ahead, gesturing for Gerry to follow. He reminded Gerry of his three-year-old nephew when he wanted to show him something.

At least there was a phone. It was an ancient device with a cord and large buttons, sitting on a work surface just inside the kitchen door.

‘There’s a garage about half an hour’s drive from here,’ said Nathanial, handing him the phone receiver. ‘The number’s on that list on the wall.’

‘It’s okay, I have breakdown cover.’

Luckily, Gerry had the number for the service on a card in his wallet and not just in his phone contacts.

‘I’ll get you some dry clothes,’ said Nathaniel, nodding and smiling.

‘No, honestly, Mate, there’s no need, I’m not even that wet.’

‘We don’t want you catching a chill.’

‘Please, mate, I don’t need dry clothes. I just want to get the breakdown service out and let my parents know I’m delayed. Once I’ve made those two calls, I’ll go and wait in the car.’

Nathanial’s face dropped. ‘Absolutely not! I insist you wait inside in the warm. I can make us a little supper.’

Gerry sighed, failing to hide his exasperation. ‘I really don’t want anything to eat, buddy. I’ll be eating with my parents, if I ever get there. What’s the address here?’

Nathaniel reeled off the address. ‘They may struggle to find it. It’s a bit remote.’

‘They’ll have decent sat nav.’ Gerry fished the card with the number from his wallet and dialled, aware of Nathaniel watching his every action from just a few feet away.

‘I’ll make us some tea, if you’re sure you don’t want dry clothes.’

Gerry didn’t protest, at least if Nathaniel was making tea, he’d be on the other side of the kitchen for a while.

Once he’d sorted the break-down call out, Gerry phoned his parents. He had no problem remembering that number as it had been the one he’d grown up with and back then you used to say the number when you answered the phone. It was imprinted on his brain.

His mother answered, sounding frantic. By the time he’d explained the situation, she was positively panic-stricken.

‘It’s fine, mum. I’m sure it’s something simple that they’ll be able to fix on the road. I’m staying the night, aren’t I, so we’ll be able to spend time together tomorrow if I arrive late tonight.’

‘Your dad doesn’t like to eat too late, it keeps him awake.’

‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, Mum.

Nathaniel was suddenly close again, beaming and thrusting a mug of tea towards Gerry. ‘I have cookies too. Or biscuits, I should say, we’re not American are we!’ He laughed far more uproariously than his comment justified.

Gerry accepted the mug but remained standing, despite Nathaniel enthusiastically pointing towards the plate heaped with every kind of biscuit on the kitchen table.

‘If you don’t see a biscuit you like, I have more in the cellar. I keep a good stock of everything.’

‘Really Mate, I’m not hungry. Why don’t I leave you to it and wait in the car. I think the rain’s eased off.’

‘No!’ yelped Nathaniel. ‘Please just tell me what you’d like. I have cakes, more biscuits, cheeses galore…’

Gerry backed into the hallway, leaving the mug of tea on the kitchen counter. Nathaniel’s over-eager stare and desperate demeanour were highly unsettling.

‘You’re tea!’ Nathaniel squealed, picking up the mug and thrusting t towards Gerry again. Hot tea slopped over the rim of the mug and down Gerry’s shirt, scalding his chest.

‘Fuck sake…!’

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!’ Nathanial grabbed a tea towel and began dabbing at the burning stain on Gerry’s shirt. Gerry pushed his hand away.

‘Leave it, please!’

‘I’m sorry,’ repeated Nathaniel. ‘I can’t help being this way. There was a woman you see, a kind woman, too kind, always in my face trying to make me happy…’

‘I don’t need to know all this,’ insisted Gerry, turning and heading for the front door.

‘It got too much,’ whined Nathaniel, following him, waving the tea towel like a flag of surrender. ‘It was just a shove, but she fell down the stairway…’

Gerry reached the front door and fumbled with the latch.

‘After that, I was like this,’ continued Nathaniel. ‘Her kindness possessed me.’

The door wouldn’t budge.

‘Let me out please,’ said Gerry without making eye contact with Nathaniel.

‘Please stay and have some supper,’ Nathaniel rested a hand on Gerry’s where is still grappled with the latch. He edged closer until Gerry could feel wet breath on his neck.

‘I can make us your favourite meal,’ said Nathaniel gently.

Gerry pushed him away. His disgust made him shove much harder than he’d intended and Nathaniel flew backwards. His head hit the end of the stairway bannister with a sickeningly wet crack.

Gerry stared at the dead body. He knew Nathaniel was dead — as dead as his car engine had been when he’d pulled over to the side of the road. He screwed his eyes shut for a second and opened them again. The body was still there, only now there was dark blood seeping into the beige carpet around the head.

‘Shit.’

He was trembling as he grabbed his damp coat from the chair near the fire. He pulled it on, avoiding the sight of Nathaniel’s bleeding corpse as he once again battled to open the front door. Finally, it relented and he was able to escape.

No-one would know it was him. Nathaniel was obviously some kind of hermit. His body probably wouldn’t be found for weeks or even months. There was no reason for the police to check with breakdown companies about pickups from the address.

He felt woozy as he slipped back into his car and his heartbeat filled his head.

***

The breakdown van arrived an hour later. Gerry felt weirdly calm as he climbed from the car, giving the mechanic a friendly wave as he approached.

‘Hello mate,’ said the driver, a burly middle-aged man wearing high vis gear and sturdy boots. Gerry noticed the boots had mud on them, picked up from the rain-soaked grass verge.

Gerry felt a wave of guilt that the poor man had been forced to drive all this way and was now getting all muddy just to help him out.

‘Let me clean those boots for you,’ he said, pulling some tissues from his coat pocket and dropping to his knees.

It was the decent thing to do.

‘What the…’ the mechanic glared at Gerry as he tried to clean his boots with the wad of tissues. ‘Mate, get up. What the fuck, man?’

‘It’s the least I can do,’ insisted Gerry, looking up into the other man’s eyes, which were filled with a mix of horror, confusion and growing anger.

The mechanic walked towards Gerry’s car. ‘What’s the issue?’ he asked gruffly.

‘You look tense,’ said Gerry, standing. ‘Can I give you a shoulder massage before you start trying to fix the car. It might help relax you?’

It seemed a reasonable offer.

What the hell is wrong with you? Gerry’s rational mind fought back briefly, but was quickly overwhelmed by a desire to be kind.

The mechanic was standing with both fists clenched now, face twisted with rage.

‘Mate, back the fuck up. What is this? Is this your way of pulling blokes, pretend to break down and then start playing master and fucking servant?’

‘I just want to help,’ said Gerry.

The mechanic shoved him against the car as he stormed back to his van. ‘I don’t get paid enough for this shit.’

As the mechanic drove off with a screech of brakes, Gerry leaned against the car, feeling suddenly dizzy.

It’s inside me now. Whatever it was that made Nathaniel the way he was is in me. He caught it from the woman he pushed down the stairs, now I’ve caught it from him.

He took several deep, calming breaths, then headed back up the dirt track towards Nathaniel’s house. Suddenly, he fancied some tea and biscuits. He’d work things out. At least he had somewhere to rest, somewhere away from people.