This is about more than just his job. I stand back, give them the floor because they need time to talk, process. The scotch is peaty and tastes of the Highlands.
“Yes. But there are strings attached.” Her smile is slight, watery, but there.
“I’ll take the strings.” Ben looks at me. “Where does your new job leave us?”
It’s a whole book of an answer.
“I have to consider what the public’s views of an unconventional relationship would be.”
Blair shakes her head. “There is even more reason for you to be here. A friendship would always be encouraged.” She smiles. “And no one knows what goes on behind closed doors.”
Ben
My father’s in his greenhouse, exactly where I last saw him. He looks older, frailer and the guilt I’ve not let myself feel creeps into every bone of me now.
“Son.” He looks up from the plant he’s cultivating. It’s a rose, probably one he’s grown himself and will have a new name for Blair’s coronation in September.
“Dad.” I stop walking because I don’t know how he’s going to feel about seeing me. If I was him I’d tell me to go.
He puts down the trowel and takes off his gloves. He’s never hit me in my life but if he wants to do that now, then I’d understand.
“What do you think? I need a name for them; it’s a sub strain of the ones I did when she was born. I was thinking Isobel for these, given that it’s her actual first name.”
I realise he’s talking about the name for the rose.
“You know she hates that name.”
He laughs. “It’ll be our little joke. And it’s a good Scottish name.” He stands up straight and looks me up and down, assessing. “I knew you weren’t dead, by the way. I knew all those years ago you used to go there when you were pissed off with me.”
“I’m sorry.” I mean the words. “I’m sorry about Majken.”
He doesn’t take his eyes away from me. “Was it you?”
“Yes.”
He looks down at the ground. “Was it quick?”
“Instant.”
Another nod. “Better than it be a long and drawn out or years in a prison. Poor kid.” He looks back up at me. “She never told me about your aunt. She should’ve. If I’d have known I’d have kept you here.”
“How did you find out?”
“Your aunt. She had a heart attack a few weeks ago and they called me because I’m apparently next of kin. She confessed. Figure she thought she was dying and it was her only chance of going to the good place. I’m sorry I never knew, lad. What she did was wrong.” He steps closer and I meet him half way.
The embrace isn’t awkward. It’s warm and tight but it doesn’t take me back to a childhood I didn’t really have.
“It wasn’t your fault.” I pull back so I can see him. “I’m staying here. Staying working for Blair.”
“Just working?” His raised brow tells me there was never much missed.
“No. More. Nothing public.”
“And Isaac?”
“What do you know about Isaac?”
“He left something for me to find. A note. He has better handwriting than you, mind.”
