It sounded appealing. I hadn’t had a whole day off in years. I cocked my head to one side and listened. No calls of distress echoed across the snow-covered mountains. Normally, I’d check on the goats every day until the snow melted, but they never needed anything. They blinked at me from their cosy huddles inside the shelters dotted across the island, my presence an unwelcome intrusion.
I was still wearing the jogging bottoms and loose T-shirt I’d thrown on last night. I grabbed a blanket from the back of the sofa and eased into the plump cushions. ‘I can do a snow day.’
The delight cresting over Aster’s face justifiedthe change in routine. ‘First order of business; we need to watchFrozen.’
Minutes later, the question Aster sang through the door yesterday morning made sense. I got distracted during the songs by Aster singing along under his breath, about half of his words matching the ones in the film.
‘You loved it, right?’ Aster asked as the credits rolled.
This was his first question after everything he showed me. I’d learnt the correct response. ‘Yes.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Like, really loved it? Or you’re just agreeing to stop the barrage ofFrozentrivia coming your way if you try to say this film is anything less than exemplary?’
‘If I promise I liked it, will that stop the trivia?’
Aster laughed. ‘Do you know they brought in live reindeer so that the animators could get Sven’s movements right?’
‘I did not know that.’ The credits finished, and a box appeared at the bottom of the screen. ‘There’s a second one.’
Aster’s head snapped to the laptop, and he clicked furiously away from the film attempting to play itself. ‘There is, but as with so many unfathomably glorious films, the second one missed the mark. The only series that really got it right wasToy Story. Man, those get better and better. Until the fourth one. But by general consensus the world has collectively forgotten that aberration.’
‘I didn’t realise there was more than oneToy Story.’
Aster turned from the screen, his face slack. ‘You’ve watchedToy Story? You, Callum Armstrong, have watched a film independent of my tutelage?’
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, since Kit said it made me look remarkably like Bonnie. No one wanted that.
‘I watched it when I was little. With my dad.’
Aster’s face softened. ‘Tell me about him?’
Since Aster had offered a space to speak about my family, I’d agonised about how to start the conversation. But all it took was one short sentence.
I swallowed. I wanted this, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult.
‘He was a stay-at-home dad. Mum was the mayor before Bonnie, so she was out a lot. Dad stayed home with us when the weather was bad or me or one of my sisters got sick, and we’d watch films together.’
It wasn’t too dissimilar to Aster’s snow day. Except there was a lot more touching. We were always touching back then. Hands on shoulders, legs casually thrown over one another, fingers coasting through hair. I’d ached for casual affection when I first came up into the mountains.
‘I have questions.’ Aster turned towards me, his legs folded under a blanket. ‘I need to know more about your dad, who from the little you’ve said seems like a brilliant decision maker. And seriously, is there a weird rule that someone in your family has to be mayor and why the hell did the island-folk pick a known arsehole over you? Also, I want to know more about these films.’
‘We watched all kinds of things.’ I alighted on the easiest question. ‘My favourite wasShrek. Bonnie likedThe Little Mermaid. May, my little sister, had too many favourites to name them all.’
‘A woman after my own heart.’
I nodded. ‘You would have liked her.’
Sometimes, when for unknown reasons the pathways in my mind leading towards my family weren’t lined with lancing thorns, I imagined what they would have been like if they were still alive. Mum would have been similar, thoughmore bored of the islanders’ antics. Dad might have gotten a job once we got older. He would have been a good teacher. Uncle Paul would have taught me about ranging the island, between sarcastic jibes.
May would have been a lot like Aster. Puppy-like energy and unstoppable enthusiasm.
I flinched when fingers ran across the back of my hand. Before Aster could move away, I entwined them through mine.
He wiggled closer to hold my hand comfortably. ‘Lost for you a moment there, big guy.’
‘I haven’t talked about any of this for a long time.’ Ever, to be precise.
‘We don’t have to talk about it any more, if you don’t want to.’ Aster rested his head on the back of the sofa.
