“So I’m not gay? Jesus Christ. I’ve only just caught up.”
Rupert laughed a laugh that wasn’t as hollow as he expected. “You’re not anything, boyo. You’reyou, like everyone else.
Fifteen
Jodi rolled over in bed and collided with a warm, comforting mass. He reached out, finding soft cotton and then skin, smooth skin that felt like nothing he’d ever touched before. He opened his eyes, and the last time he’d been awake, whenever that had been, came flooding back to him. The day that had seemed to go on and on, and the night that felt never-ending until Rupert had finally come home.
The rest of the previous day was a little blurred. The session with Ken, the dazed Tube ride. Thenever-fucking-endingwait for Rupert to return. And then the knock at the door that had accelerated the slow journey his damaged brain was taking to the conclusion that, by now, felt almost inevitable.
Couldn’t say he cared for Rupert’s ex much, but the girl? Indie? Despite the bombshells she’d unwittingly chucked Jodi’s way, he’d found himself spellbound by her. Indie was bright, fierce, and beautiful. Jodi couldn’t remember loving her any more than he remembered loving Rupert, but he’d adored her from the moment she’d pulled on his beard and told him he looked like a troll.
“Don’t let Daddy grow a beard. It turns orange when it gets too long and scratches my face.”
“How would I stop him?”
“He listens to you. That’s what boyfriends do.”
Jodi stared at Rupert. In his hazel eyes, there was a lot of Indie, but beyond the beautiful little girl, he saw Rupert, really saw him, perhaps for the first time since he’d set eyes on him after the accident. Rupert seemed nervous and tired, like he hadn’t slept a wink in days. Jodi tried to speak, to tell him something, anything, to let him know he was okay—that they were both okay, together—but nothing intelligible came out.
“Shh.” Rupert touched Jodi’s face briefly, like a whisper. “You’re exhausted. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk later.”
Jodi was powerless to protest. His mind was alive with a million questions, but his body was weak, and he could barely summon the energy to close his eyes.
But he did close them, and the next time he woke, he was alone, and the spot where Rupert had been lying was cold.
He shivered and sat up slowly, testing his equilibrium for the dizziness that sometimes plagued him first thing in the morning. Not that he knew whether it was morning. With the blinds closed and the bedside lamp on, he had no idea what time it was. Or where Rupert was.
Anxiety lanced Jodi’s heart. In recent weeks, he’d grown used to the comfort of Rupert’s presence, and his absence now was terrifying. What if it had all been a dream? What if he’d imagined the resolution to the turmoil he still felt deep in his belly? What if it never went away?What if, what if, what if.
Fuck this shit.
Jodi stood just as the bedroom door opened. Indie danced in and scampered onto the bed.
“Mum and Daddy are arguing outside because Daddy made her come back for me. Can we watch your oldBucky O’Harevideos?”
Okay. So the part about Rupert’s bitch of an ex and his mesmerising daughter showing up on the doorstep definitely wasn’t a dream. Jodi blew out a breath and sat down again. “I don’t know where they are.”
Indie hopped off the bed and opened a drawer. “You keep them in here, silly, with yourSouth ParkDVDs, but you don’t let me watch them. Daddy says they’re rude.”
“Yeah? He’s probably right.”
“Probably. You always say he is.” Indie retrieved a battered VHS case and jammed it in the dusty machine Jodi had assumed was broken. “Where’s the video remote?”
“Um ...” Jodi glanced around. He hadn’t used the TV at the end of the bed since he came home from hospital. “Are you sure you’ve got time? Isn’t your mum here to pick you up?”
“That’s what they’re arguing about. She wants me to stay until Saturday. Dad says he has to work, but that doesn’t matter, does it? You can babysit me.”
“Haven’t you got school?”
“It’s half-term.”
Jodi had no answer to that. He stayed put on the bed, not trusting himself to get up and walk around just yet. Indie crawled in front of him, brandishing a battered remote control and a sparkly pink hair brush.
“Found it,” she said. “Can you put my hair in bunches? I want to look like Bucky.”
Lacking any better ideas, Jodi took the brush while Indie pressed Play and the dormant TV flashed to life, filling the screen with images of a fluorescent-green space rabbit cartoon he remembered from the late eighties. He couldn’t remember anything important, butthis? Yep, this, he remembered.Bucky O’Hare and the Toad Menace. For fuck’s sake.
Indie stood patiently while Jodi gingerly ran the brush through her long hair. “You want bunches?”
