‘Harris is an okay bloke.’ Mark nods at me, nods at Dad across the other side of the workshop. ‘I mean, he’s a bit of a wild man, but he’s young. I did plenty of stupid shit when I was young – pardon me French.’
‘If you can give Harris a place to stay for a month, that’d be really good.’ I bite my lip to stop my grin from breaking open any wider.
Mark lifts an eyebrow. ‘What about Dennis?’
‘What about Dennis?’ Dad echoes quietly. He shakes his head over the bowels of Westie’s Hilux. ‘You think he might try and have a word with you?’
The smile flees from my face. Being so caught up in what Harris might say about all this, it never occurred to me to take Dennis Derwent into account.
Westie shrugs. ‘He’s not gonna get his jocks tied about a four-week stay, is he? And it’s for the hospital. He can’t complain about the hospital.’
Oh yes he can. Not like Dennis hasn’t complained before. But maybe that’s the angle I can take with Harris, that Harris can use with his dad: it’s the hospital that’s set it up, and it’s only for a month. A month sounds short.
‘He can blame it on us,’ I say jokingly, my mouth a little dry. ‘Barb can have a chat before Harris is discharged, tell Mr Derwent it’s a requirement of release or something.’
‘Yeah, I’d prefer if Dennis wasn’t growling at me,’ Mark says, nodding. He makes a gap-toothed grin. ‘Barb’s got his number, though. He doesn’t yell at her.’
‘Barb’s pretty tough,’ I agree.
‘Bloody Dennis.’ Dad picks through a greasy tin of bolts before looking up at me. ‘Will he cause a ruckus? Should I have a word to –’
‘No, no,’ I say hastily. ‘Best not to get too official about it. Let Barb have a word to Mr Derwent, I’ll tell Harris he’s got this as an option, and we’ll take it from there.’
Mark and Dad both nod their approval. There’s only one other thing I need to sort out, so I better get it over with.
‘Mark, it’s great of you to say yes, but have a think about it. I’ll have to ask Harris first. And I don’t know about the money –’
‘The money?’ Westie squints at me.
‘Well, you’ll have Harris for a month. He’ll have to pay room and board, but I don’t think he’s cashed up. He hasn’t worked for weeks and it’ll be a fair while before he can get back to the quarry. I was gonna offer you fifty bucks a week for groceries and expenses. It’s not a lot, but it’s –’
‘I’ll chuck in,’ Dad says.
‘What?’ I stare at him.
‘I’ll throw in a bit,’ Dad says evenly. ‘Why not? Keep Harris Derwent off the street and outta my hair for a month. Be worth it.’
But he’s got his eyes on me and I know there’s stuff he’s not saying.
Westie snorts. ‘Well, shit, I was gonna do it for free. But if you wanna throw in a bit, I wouldn’t knock ya back.’ He scratches his chest through his T-shirt and I hear the woolly rasp under the fabric. ‘Right, then. Everything’s sorted except the car.’
‘Gimme an hour,’ Dad says.
I go back into the house to put the kettle on again, make a plate of toasties. There’s a light-winged feeling in my chest but it’s competing with darker flutters of anxiety. This is more than bandaids and lollipops. I’m sticking my neck out for a guy who’s pure chaos.
But I was the one who told Harris to keep fighting. I said I’d help work it out. Well, now I’ve set it up: I’ve given Harris options. The only question is whether he’ll take advantage of them.
After Mark West revs the Hilux down our driveway and off into the distance, Dad wanders back inside, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.
‘All good?’ I’m cleaning up at the table, putting the remains of the sandwich makings back into the fridge, wiping up the crumbs. ‘That engine sounded nice by the end.’
‘Yep.’ Dad leans on the kitchen bench near the sink. ‘Satisfying, that is. Something’s broken, you fix it, bloke drives off happy. It’s a bloody far cry from police work, I can tell you.’
I smile at him. If Dad wasn’t such a good copper he’d spend all day tinkering with cars. But he is a good copper. I actually think the tinkering has something to do with that.
‘So,’ he continues. ‘You’ve set that all up nicely then, with Harris Derwent.’
‘Yeah.’ I focus on the tidying. ‘Well. I just thought it’d be good, y’know? Give Harris a chance to get better properly.’
