“I know.”
“So what’s changed? You can’t want to get better for someone else, son. It has to be for you.”
“It is for me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Dad. I’m sure.”
Jannah came back. In her hand, she clutched a thick brown envelope. “Trauma counsellors,” she said. “We knew it couldn’t be just anybody, so we searched and searched for you, hoping one day you would let us help you.”
Ollie took the envelope. His hands shook, but he let them. Let his parents see it, absorb it, and know they’d done the right thing. “Are they in London? I meant it when I said I didn’t want to go to bloody Poland.”
Jannah rolled her eyes. “So difficult without even trying. Yes, in London, most of them. Do you want to look?”
“Yeah. I think I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I amcoming back
For the thousandth time, Shay unfolded the note, read it, and refolded it into the tiny square Ollie had left it in. Four words. They meant everything, but in moments like these, alone in his bunk, Shay wondered if they meant anything at all.
It had been three long days since Ollie had left the tour—and Shay—behind. Three long nights. Ollie hadn’t called, and Shay hadn’t either. A million times he’d picked up his phone, only to put it down again when an instinct he didn’t quite understand told him to let Ollie be.
Didn’t make it easy, though. Sometimes Shay lay awake and remembered the stolen nights in Ollie’s flat, when Ollie had been so open and free. Shay’s body cried out for Ollie. Ached for him. Then he’d recall the darker moments and realise they outnumbered the occasions he’d seen Ollie truly smile, and his heart hurt.
“Oi, oi, mate.” Jumbo dropped, uninvited, into Shay’s personal space. “Last London show tonight, then we’re back to the north country. Excited?”
“About leaving London?”
“Nah, about going home.”
Shay sighed. “We’re not going home. We’re going to Leeds.”
“Yeah, but that’s our penultimate stop. What’s up? Missing Ollie?”
Shay flinched. No one had mentioned Ollie since Shay had returned from the tour break alone, but if anyone was going to break the unspoken agreement, it was always going to be Jumbo. “Yeah, actually, I am missing him. I got used to having his grumpy arse around.”
“Me too, though I’m guessing you have different appreciation for his arse.”
“Nice.”
Jumbo grinned. “I thought so. Where’s he at, anyway? I thought he was filming you for the whole tour.”
“He needed some time off.”
“Why? The dude’s a workaholic.”
“That’s not reason enough?”
Jumbo reached into his back pocket. He came up with a packet of wine gums and leaned over Shay to do who-the-hell-knew what.
“For your emergency kit,” he said when he straightened. “I’ve been mad googling hypoglycaemia.”
“Why?”
“So I know what to do next time.”
