“Does that mean you’ll be wearing his jersey?” Ian asks, turning towards her.
“I don’t think anyone’s jersey’ll fit her anymore, not even an XXL,” I comment, challenging her to one of our usual squabbling matches.
“Arsehole…” Ian pounces on me, but Riley blocks him with an arm.
“Your jersey is the only one I’ll ever wear,” she tells him sweetly, and he calms down straight away.
Poor sod.
“As for you, Ryan…” he turns back to me, his attitude changed. “You can go and…”
“Hey, hey, everyone just calm down.” Nick tries to play the peacekeeper.
It’s not like Riley and I ever argue seriously, but by now it’s become our way of communicating, and I know she doesn’t mind it.
“Come on, dinner’s ready,” Mum calls us from the dining room. “Can someone go and get Dad? He’s upstairs.”
“I’ll go,” I offer, climbing the stairs.
I knock on his door. “Dad? Dinner’s ready.”
I step inside, scanning the room. Dad is looking out of the window. “Hey…” I go over to him. “We’re waiting for you downstairs.”
He looks at me and smiles.
“I’ll be right there.”
“What are you looking at?” I ask, casting my eyes outside.
He points to one of the houses across the road, and the rest of my good mood disappears.
“Have they had a baby?” he asks, nodding towards the toys in the garden.
I muster up my courage. “A grandchild.”
“Ah,” he comments, vaguely. “You know, I’ll have a grandchild soon” he says, pride spreading across his face.
“You must be excited.”
He nods, smiling.
“I never thought Ian would be the first one to start a family. I thought that…” he stops himself, shaking his head in confusion. He touches his forehead, as if trying to reorder his thoughts.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Dad,” I say, hoping to calm him down.
“I don’t know,” he says sadly. “I don’t know if it’ll all be okay. I’m worried.”
“You shouldn’t be. We’re here.”
“I’m not worried about me,” he says, turning to me.
His eyes are clear and bright, just like Nick’s. But they’re also frightened, laced with a sadness that strikes my heart every time he looks at me like this.
“Will you be okay, Ryan?” he asks, almost making me choke on my own emotion.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
He smiles at me affectionately. “I always say that too, you know. But it doesn’t help: lying like that, to friends, to family. Sometimes you need to say it out loud – because, even if you hate asking for it, help can come from the people you least expect.”
“I don’t need any help,” avoiding the conversation, because I know that he’s right.
Dad may have his problems, and seem shut out from the world, but his lucid moments have a habit of putting everything right. He sees where no-one else thinks to look.
“Let’s go,” I say, nodding towards the stairs.
He leads the way out of his room, and I take a few moments to look across at the neighbours’ house.
I sigh, forcing myself to look at everything I’ve lost, everything that will never be mine.
