“Are you still hungry?” I asked.
He shook his head and swung his legs on the sofa, burrowing his head into the pillow and pulling the cover over him as he closed his eyes. “No. I just need some sleep.”
I kept staring at him, trying to find the man I used to know in the relaxed features. The one who’d swung me onto his shoulders and made me giggle. The one who’d picked me up from school when my mum was working and secretly taken me to McDonalds for a happy meal, telling me I had to hide the toy or we’d both be in trouble. The one who’d told me when I was fifteen that he didn’t care whether I liked girls or boys, as long as I was happy.
No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find him, though. It was like looking at a completely different person. When he opened his eyes, perhaps sensing my scrutiny, it stirred me into moving. I slid my watch off my wrist and held it out to him. “Here.”
“I can’t take yours.”
“Yes, you can. I’ll get a new one. It wasn’t expensive.”
He nodded and took it from me, placing it carefully on the table in front of him. “I’ll pay you back for it.”
“No, you won’t. But that’s okay.”
He closed his eyes again, and I waited for his breathing to even out. Keeping one eye on him in case he wasn’t really asleep and woke up to ask what I was doing, I took a quick trip around my living room to collect anything of value. My wallet. My phone. A crystal ornament my mother gave me before she died. It wasn’t particularly valuable, but he might not know that. And it held too much sentimental value for me to risk it.
Satisfied I’d father-proofed myself as much as I could, I returned to bed just as the first rays of daylight appeared on the horizon.
Chapter Six
My father was gone the next morning when I awoke, with only the rumpled sheets on the sofa and the crumbs of the makeshift meal to tell me I hadn’t dreamed the entire thing. I received a text message just as I pondered whether his leaving without saying goodbye—or thank you—annoyed me. I decided as I pulled out my phone that I should be pleased that it had saved me from having to kick him out.
Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your evasiveness.
Finn. In a move that should have required more thinking time about whether it was too underhand, or at least a measure of guilt as I did it, I sent my reply within seconds.My father turned up here last night.
Finn’s reply was immediate and predictable.Shit! Sorry. What happened? Are you okay?
Was I okay? It was an interesting question. Things between us might have been as spiky as ever, but neither of us had shouted or insulted the other, which was a win compared to several other interactions I could detail. He hadn’t robbed me. Mainly becauseI’d taken everything of value with me into the bedroom. Even as I thought that, I was opening up kitchen cupboards to check nothing was missing.
The pans were all still there, as were the plates, nothing seeming to be out of order. I checked the fridge last, the gap where there’d been a bottle of wine the previous day mocking me with its obviousness. Of course, he’d taken the wine. That was like a red rag to a bull, and something I should have considered.
I was being hard on myself. I knew that. After all, there was no preparing for an unexpected and uninvited visitor in the middle of the night. But with enough forethought to collect other things, I should have thought to go that one step further and check the fridge.
Next time. And there would be a next time. I didn’t doubt that for a second.
I’ll take your lack of response as a no.
Sorry. I’m okay. I just realized he took a bottle of wine with him when he left.
Good wine? Vintage?
Finn’s question had me smiling.You know me, I’m quite the wine connoisseur.
A cheap one, then, from the off license around the corner.
Yeah.
Reckon he’s drunk it already?
Probably. I reckoned that had been breakfast for him.
Don’t beat yourself up about it.
It was like Finn could see me.About what?
Anything. Helping too much. Not helping enough. You’re a good person, Laurent. The best I know.
