‘I’m sorry, it’s awful,’ she said.
‘It’s awful but I am grateful you care enough to confront me.’ He leaned forward, resting his knees on his elbows. ‘It’s more than his own mother does.’
Eve shrugged. ‘It sounds like she’s in a bad place also.’
He nodded. ‘She is. I worry I won’t have either of them one day.’
She didn’t know why, but she reached out for his hand. ‘You can’t fix her – she’s an adult. But Myles is still a child. An angry child, but he’s still here and he has an interest and you care about him. That’s enough to start with.’
Edward took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I love him. He’s my son. I’ve known him since he was seven.’ His eyes were glistening and she saw the fear of losing Myles in his face. ‘I couldn’t bear to not have him in my life. Or Flora’s life. And he can be so smart and kind but he’s so damaged and I didn’t protect him the way I should have.’
‘How should you have protected him?’ she asked.
‘I should have adopted him, so then I would have some say in what happens to him. To show him I cared, I loved him. But I always put it off, saying I was writing or travelling or whatever. I hate myself for it now. Now Amber has left him with me with no concern for him whatsoever. I’m not even his legal guardian, not that she cares it seems.’
He let go of her hand.
‘I’m a selfish prick,’ he said. ‘And Myles knows it, which is why he won’t come downstairs.’
Eve wondered if some of this was true. The Edward she had seen when she arrived was selfish and rude and arrogant. While she knew there were things going on in his life, it didn’t excuse his behaviour; but he didn’t need to hear that from her. He had to learn this for himself.
Instead she gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘It will work out, Edward, I promise.’
‘Thank you, Eve,’ he said as Hilditch knocked on the door and came to tell him coffee and French toast was ready and shot Eve a look that could have turned her to stone if they were in biblical times.
Edward stood up, his shoulders hunched. He looked exhausted.
‘What can I do for him?’ she asked.
‘It’s not your responsibility to help with Myles. He has a mother and me. You’re here to do a job,’ he said but he wasn’t unkind, more pragmatic.
‘I know but I have two brothers the same age and while I don’t claim to know anything about parenting, I could be his friend.’
Edward sighed. ‘I don’t want you doing too much though. An occasional pop-in might help but if he tells you to go, then go – he has a terrible temper.’
‘I won’t do anything more than offer friendship, as much as someone my age can offer friendship to a fourteen-year-old boy.’
Edward laughed. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-seven,’ she said. ‘Turning twenty-eight.’
Edward made a face. ‘God that seems years ago for me.’
‘How old are you?’ she asked lightly, so as not to seem like she was investigating their suitability as a couple.
‘Forty.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘A walking cliché of a man in a middle-aged crisis. Wife has bolted. An angry teenager, a morose child, a house that’s too big and too expensive, and a career that could be on the downhill slide. All I need now is a younger girlfriend and I’ll be living out a Nicholas Sparks novel.’
‘Or Nicholas Sparks’ actual life, allegedly, according to media reports,’ Eve said and Edward laughed.
‘Let’s go and have breakfast,’ he said and they walked back towards the kitchen.
‘After breakfast you have to write,’ she reminded him.
‘Absolutely,’ he agreed. ‘I need to escape into something after this morning.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I was out of line.’
He stopped in the hallway and turned to her, his hand on her shoulder.
