Jake said it with a smile, but the words did odd things to Nero’s gut. If the dead stayed dead, why did they haunt his dreams?
Despite the sunlight flooding in through the large windows, the warehouse grew suddenly dark, the cobwebs and dust suffocating. Nero shoved his tingling hands in his pockets. “I gotta go.”
Jake stepped around him and gathered the plans from the gritty floor, passing Nero his wallet and phone. “Already? I was gonna buy you breakfast.”
“No, thanks. Got shit to do.”
Jake’s facial expressions often bore no resemblance to his actual emotions, so it was hard to tell if he was offended, and Nero didn’t much care. Jake was a mate, but Nero needed to go.
He left Jake in the warehouse and escaped outside, sucking down the muggy summer air until his head was spinning a little less, slowing to the dull carousel he’d lived with for as long as he could remember. Idiot. Just get the fuck off already.
If only it were that easy. Nero’s phone rang as he crossed the road to the Tube station. He pulled it from his pocket and squinted through the bright sunlight at the screen. Pippa’s. Great.
He took the call, steeling himself for a barrage of Steph’s whinging. “What?”
A giggle-chuckle caught him off guard. “So you are always this grumpy?”
Nero stopped walking. “This again? I’m not bloody grumpy.”
“Right.” Lenny laughed harder. “You looked it this morning.”
“Thought you were asleep.”
“With you stomping around? Fuck no.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
And Nero wasn’t. Lenny was on his couch. If he didn’t like it, he could kip downstairs in the cellar, because there was zero chance of Nero disturbing him there. “What do you want?”
“Twenty fags. I was hoping you could bring me a box back. I’ll give you the cash.”
“Fine. I’ll be half hour or so, though.”
“I thought you’d be gone all day?”
“Bad luck.” Nero checked his watch. Ten fifteen. He’d been with Jake less than an hour—hardly worth the trip, especially as he’d failed to give Jake much insight into where to place the giant bread ovens. “I won’t be in long, if it’s any consolation.”
“Not really. Can I do anything for you in the flat?”
“Like what?”
“Dunno, washing or something?”
“Nah, mate. You’re all right. See you soon.”
“Bye, Nero.”
Nero hung up and stared at his phone screen, wondering why Lenny’s voice twisted his insides so much. He’d started walking again while they’d talked, but he drifted to a stop now, feeling somehow . . . lighter? What the actual fuck? Nero was used to trudging through life under a cloud of temper and sarcasm, his only shield between him and a world that had fucked him over more times than he could count, not spinning giddily because of the way a bloke he hardly knew said his name.
Still, the feathery skip in his chest was a welcome change from the usual dark stomp of reality, and Nero let it carry him home to Shepherd’s Bush.
Inside Pippa’s, he checked that the kitchen team was set up, then went upstairs. At first Lenny was nowhere to be seen, then Nero found him in the bathroom, sitting on the windowsill.
“What are you doing up there?”
“Catching the breeze.”
