Maybe it was the confusion on his face, but Sam paused. “The noose you tucked behind your back.”
Arthur shook his head. This was ridiculous. “What noose?” He pulled out the notebook, showed it to Sam, but when Sam reached for it, Arthur tucked it behind his back again.
Sam took a couple of steps away, the tension leaking from his posture. “It’s a notebook.”
Arthur nodded. “How the hell did you get noose from that?”
Sam didn’t speak but the answer was on his face.
“You really think I’m going to try to commit suicide?” He clenched his hands.
A short nod.
Taking all those pills had been weak, but he’d never consciously thought about killing himself. “What would it matter if I died? I’m useless to everyone.” He shouldn’t provoke his friend further, but he wanted the answer.
“You’re not useless. You helped me with Penelope, you saved my life on more than one occasion, and you’re my friend.”
He relaxed his hands. “I didn’t do much with Penelope.”
“You helped me understand her better. You gave me the information I needed so I could trust my instincts.”
Arthur shrugged. “It was nothing.”
“Not to me, it wasn’t.” Sam opened his mouth, closed it again, then sighed. “I know you don’t like people to get close to you, but I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
Arthur swallowed hard. It was too much to take in right now. “I’m not going to kill myself,” he said. “I’ll be down for dinner shortly.”
Sam held his gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “Don’t take long. It’s getting cold.” He walked out.
Arthur waited until he heard Sam on the stairs and then retrieved his notebook. The drawing was a little rough, definitely not his best work, but still he smiled. It was like greeting an old friend to hold a pencil in his hand. He hadn’t realised how much he missed it. Maybe one day he’d have enough courage to show Sam.
But for now, he tucked the notebook in his backpack, placed the bag into the drawer and went down for dinner.
Chapter 4
It was two days before Arthur got up the nerve to bring his notebook with him on the boat. He’d been unable to block out the excited conversations of the passengers which only made him bitter and want to be out there with them. But no one wanted their expensive tour ruined by a cripple. So instead he’d tried to find something to keep him busy in the cabin, and there were so many things he wanted to sketch.
He’d assessed the situation closely. The crew rarely entered the cabin before they reached the snorkelling spot. They were too busy answering questions and ensuring the passengers had the correct equipment. That gave him half an hour to start sketching the goggles hanging up, or the cupboards, or whatever inanimate object caught his attention.
He kept an ear tuned to the engine, because when it slowed it meant the crew would be in to get their own gear ready and he had to hide the book.
As soon as the engine switched off, Sam clattered down the ladder. “Want to snorkel?” The hope on Sam’s face made Arthur feel like a tool.
“No.” It wasn’t as simple as walking to the edge of the boat and jumping in.
“Come on. You can’t stay in here forever.”
Sure he could. Sam had obviously forgotten how patient Arthur could be when staking out a target.
“I’m getting in.”
“Go on then.” Maybe Arthur would get a chance to sketch again before everyone reboarded.
Sam looked at him a long moment and guilt slivered into Arthur’s gut. “Suit yourself.” Sam walked out.
Arthur waited until he heard a splash, and then got his notebook out again.
By day four he’d run out of interesting subjects he could sketch from where he sat. He’d tried moving around the cabin, but there was only one spot he could sit which gave him warning of someone approaching and therefore gave him time to tuck his notebook away without them seeing it.
