Leo burst into the kitchen. He was beside Lila in an instant, shielding her from Reg’s view. “What are you doing?”
“Having breakfast,” Reg said mildly. “Lila’s had some Coco Pops, now she’s going to borrow Charlie’s pens to draw more of the daisies she drew so beautifully yesterday. Do you want a cuppa?”
Reg retreated to the kettle without waiting for Leo’s response. He didn’t even look back, like he couldn’t feel Leo’s sharp, defensive glare boring into him. Charlie shivered. Something in Leo changed when Reg was around. It was frightening . . . disturbing, and Lila obviously felt it too.
She touched Leo’s hand. Charlie couldn’t see what she signed, but Leo’s expression softened.
“Yes,” he signed. “Use the pens.”
Charlie took his cue and fetched the pens from his school bag. When he returned, no one had moved. Reg still had his back to Leo, and Leo was still watching him like a sniper. Charlie dropped the case of pens on the table and grabbed scrap paper from the arts-and-crafts box on the dresser. “I want to draw too. What shall we draw?”
Leo cut his gaze at Charlie. “Lila can’t hear what you’re saying.”
“I’m talking to you.” Charlie reclaimed his seat at the table and signed, “No fun on your own.”
Lila smiled and pulled a sheet of paper toward her. Charlie emptied the pens onto the table. “Dad? Do you want to draw too?”
Reg finally turned around. “Not now, Charlie. I’m going to jump in the shower before Fliss hogs all the hot water. How about the three of you do something nice for the fridge door? We haven’t had anything new for ages.”
He left the room. Charlie heard his soft tread on the stairs and turned his attention to Leo. “You can sit down now. He’s gone.”
Leo scowled so hard he looked as though his head might explode. “He doesn’t scare me.”
“I know,” Charlie said. “Why would he? It’s his job to take care of you.”
“Why do you talk like him?”
“Talk like Reg?”
“Who else?” Leo took a small swig from Lila’s juice cup. “You sound just like him when you spout stupid crap like that.”
Someone else would perhaps have been offended, or at the least affronted, but Charlie was used to Fliss’s sharp tongue. “It’s not crap. It’s the truth. Reg is the coolest dad around. He’ll let you do anything you want if you stick to the house rules.”
Leo snorted. “Fuck the rules.”
Charlie suppressed a sigh. Late last night, Leo had been given his own copy of the printed list stuck to every bedroom door, and Charlie had seen it shredded in the bathroom bin when he’d brushed his teeth. “Suit yourself. You’re going to be pretty bloody bored cooped up here when you break them all.”
Leo didn’t answer, and Charlie’s patience wore thin. He blocked Leo out and returned his focus to Lila, who had sketched a formation of flowers. Charlie studied them, impressed. Neat and intricate, they were better than half the crap his classmates produced at school.
Charlie found some bright colours and pushed them Lila’s way. “Colour them.”
Lila got stuck in. She was halfway through her second flower when Leo pulled out a chair and sat down. Charlie eyed him. For all his belligerence, Leo appeared lost. And tired too, like he hadn’t slept in days. Reg had looked much the same, but the strain of fatigue hadn’t seemed out of place on his already lined face. On Leo, it didn’t feel right at all.
“Do you want any breakfast?”
“Hmm?” Leo glanced up from Lila’s work.
“Breakfast,” Charlie repeated. “Mum will probably cook for you, as it’s your first morning, but I can make you some toast now?”
Leo blinked and rubbed his arm, the arm covered by a thick bandage. “I don’t want her to cook for me.”
“Have some toast, then. Marmite or jam?”
Leo frowned. Charlie got up anyway and stuck two slices of bread in the toaster. When they were done, he buttered them and left them plain. Leo didn’t seem to notice.
“Eat,” Charlie said. “If nothing else, it’ll keep Mum off your back till lunchtime.”
Leo ate slowly, like he wasn’t sure of his actions, or if his limbs belonged to him. He seemed surprised when his plate was empty, and Charlie tried not to stare. Eyes half closed, hair tousled from sleep, Leo was beautiful, but that wasn’t what was keeping Charlie’s attention. No. It was the darkness in that hooded gaze and the weary slump in his posture. It waswrong, and Charlie couldn’t let it go. “Are you okay?”
