‘Dad,’ Ash says, voice firm. Lissa notices his knee is doing that bouncing thing it sometimes does, like he doesn’t want to be sitting still.
‘I’ll go tomorrow,’ Jack says, waving it off with a hand. ‘Or maybe you could see if you could pick the prescription up for me?’
‘It’s not only the prescription, though, is it? Didn’t you have an appointment?’
‘I’ll go tomorrow,’ Jack repeats, just as firmly. ‘Now let’s not get hung up on it,’ he adds, speaking over Ash’s protest. He smiles at Lissa. ‘We’ve got company.’
Ash hesitates, like he might be about to push the point. Lissa wonders what the appointment was for. She wonders why he didn’t go. ‘All right,’ he says eventually. He stands up. ‘I’ll go make us some tea, shall I?’
‘Good idea,’ Jack says with a nod. ‘I’ll take butter in mine.’
Lissa laughs, assuming it’s a joke, but Jack looks at her oddly. She glances at Ash, whose expression flickers, a muscle contracting in his jaw. He catches her looking at him and smiles a little sadly. And Lissa feels a slow sinking sensation inside her.
‘So,’ Jack says, propping his stick between his knees and leaning forward on it, spine still very straight. ‘Are you a friend or afriend?’
Lissa laughs again, surer of the intent this time, and his eyes light with it, the way Ash’s do sometimes. ‘Just a friend,’ she says firmly. ‘The regular kind.’
‘Hmm.’ It’s the same ‘hmm’ that Ash sometimes gives – an inherited sound, apparently.
‘Hmm?’
‘He doesn’t really bring girls to meet me,’ Jack says, scratching his chin. ‘Or boys, for that matter. Doesn’t seem to be able to make anything stick.’ Lissa glances in the direction Ash headed in, wondering if he would mind his father telling her this. ‘There was someone at university,’ Jack muses. ‘Missy? Maisie? Can’t for the life of me remember. But no one since then. I suppose he moves around too much to settle down.’
‘I suppose,’ Lissa hedges. At least they have one thing in common – an inability to commit, form a long-term relationship. Though she imagines Ash finds it easier than her to form short-term ones.
‘He mentions you a lot,’ Jack says, voice a little sly. She decides she likes him more for that slyness.
She also decides to play it innocent. ‘What’s that?’
‘Ash. He talks about you. Nothing major,’ he adds, while she works to keep her face carefully neutral. ‘I barely know the first thing about you, but he throws your name in every now and then. I remember that. I used to do it with Nicola when we first met. Try to think of ways to bring her into the conversation, just so I could say her name.’
Lissa feels her cheeks warm at that, and can think of absolutely nothing to say. She glances around the room by way of distraction, catches sight of a photo above the fireplace of someone who can only be Ash’s mum. A wide smile, curly hair, slightly crooked teeth.
‘That’s her,’ Jack says, following the direction of Lissa’s gaze. ‘That’s my Nicola.’ He sighs. ‘It was such a long time ago really, but I still miss her every time I look at her. You ever get that?’
‘Yeah,’ Lissa murmurs. ‘I get that.’
He nods sombrely. ‘Yeah. Fact of life, loss. But it’s not a fun one. She was brilliant. Nicola, I mean. Vivacious, nononsense. You would’ve liked her.’ Lissa wonders how he can possibly know that, having only just met her, but he waves a hand in the air like he can guess her thoughts. ‘Everyone liked her, but more than that, Ash likes you, so you would’ve liked her.’ There’s a logic in there, she’s sure of it.
Ash likes you.She hates what that does to her insides, making them all fluttery.Get a bloody grip, Lissa.
‘Things haven’t ever been the same since she died,’ Jack continues, and Lissa looks again at the photo. She thinks of Ash losing his mum. A teenager, he said he was. She feels suddenly, impossibly sad about that. ‘I thought, maybe I’ll get back to my old self one day. But I haven’t.’ He sighs again. ‘I was a bad parent.’
‘I’m sure you weren’t,’ Lissa says automatically. Because she can feel the love, the warmth coming from him.
‘That’s kind of you, but I was. I wouldn’t leave the house. That’s when it started. Well, I suppose it started before then, but it used to be manageable. Nicola made it manageable. But after … Well, Ash had to do everything for me. I couldn’t even go out and get milk for a while.’
Lissa watches him as he talks, sees the way he twists his walking stick. She wants to ask what he means exactly. Was he depressed? Was it like her mum after Chloe died?
‘I think that’s what made him, you know,’ Jack continues, his voice shrewd.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ash. He’s always so restless, isn’t he?’
He seems to want an answer to that. ‘I guess?’ But he just likes to do things, doesn’t he? Keep busy, make the most of life. The total opposite of her.
‘He is,’ Jack says, nodding. ‘He always used to do stupid things that I told him not to. Took part in some car rally when he was a teenager. And did you know he went skydiving when he lived in Morocco?’
