‘Concentrate, mate,’ he said aloud as he swerved to miss a station wagon backing out of a driveway.
‘Idiot,’ he called as he went past the car. ‘Have a fucking look.’
But he also knew he was projecting his anger because he was angry with himself, and angry with Anika and Charlie.
It would be five hours before he hit London, give or take the traffic. He had five hours to plan what he would do when he saw Anika. He felt his stomach turn in knots at the thought of confronting her.
No more,he thought. It was time to stand up for himself.
*
Simon arrived at his mother’s house, let himself in and poured himself a wine.
‘Simon? Is that you?’ His mother came out of her study, her glasses shoved onto her head, a book in hand.
‘Hello, Mother.’ He sipped his wine.
‘Is that all I get? I haven’t seen you in months and months. You’ve been hiding from me, from the world, like you committed a crime. And now you come back in and pour a glass of my cooking wine and act like nothing’s happened?’
Simon looked into the glass. ‘I was going to ask how you got the cat to balance on the bottle. Terrible taste.’ He took another sip.
‘Why are you here and why do you have a tone?’ His mother put the book down on the kitchen bench.
‘I’m here to get back what’s mine,’ he said, leaning forward and kissing his mother on the cheek. ‘It’s good to see you.’
His mother reached up and held his chin, turning his head from side to side. ‘You have colour – you’ve been outdoors.’
‘I have,’ he answered.
She took his hands and inspected them and looked at the fading wound on his forearm that Amanda had dressed.
‘You have dirt under your nails, and healed scratches… and your forearms have more definition.’ She paused. ‘Have you been in the wilderness?’
Moongate was wild but it wasn’t the wilderness.
‘Not quite.’ He looked at his mother. ‘I’ve been gardening,’ he said.
‘Gardening? How interesting.’ She sat on one of the kitchen stools. ‘Where were you?’
Simon took a stool on the other side of the kitchen bench.
‘In Northumbria, outside of Newcastle,’ he said.
His mother’s mouth opened. ‘Viking land,’ she said.
‘Apparently so, but I didn’t see any,’ he said.
‘And whose garden was it?’
How could he explain anything to his mother in the short time he had before he faced his past so he could rebuild his future?
‘You know, Mother, I will tell you everything; but first, I have to go and sort a few things out. Dinner tonight?’
‘Yes, I’ll cook,’ she said.
Simon reached for her hand and held it. ‘Promise me one thing, Mother?’
‘Anything, Simon.’
