I studied him for a second. “You got here at nine last night and went straight to playing poker. Send her a text – find out what she’s up to. See if she wants to join us while we all try not to feel as if we’ve been hit by a bus.”
“I feel fine.” My little brother grinned, already walking around the changing rooms stark bollock naked.
We’d learned not to say anything now. Seph was convinced he had a big dick, mainly because some girl had commented on its size when he was in college, and now he thought he was some porn star.
“If there’s any justice, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Sometimes I wondered if we weren’t harsh enough.
Seph just laughed. “It’s what happens when you’re still young. Quicker recovery time.”
“Any idea why we didn’t make him live with the wolves?” I looked at Jackson.
Jackson just slowly shook his head. “Just think, one day, some poor woman’s going to marry that and she’ll have to put up with him all the time.”
“We should probably start a trust fund for her therapy. Or in case she sues us.” I chucked my rugby kit into a separate bag. There was no mud, but sweat was another matter and it would need to go straight in the wash, else I wouldn’t hear the end of it about the smell from Vic. “You reckon Marie will still do a load of washing?”
Jackson saw what I was doing. “Pass it here.”
“What? Jock strap and all?”
“Yep, quick. While Seph’s showering.” He stood up. “Eli, Owen, Shay – bring you kit here and stuff it in Seph’s bag.”
I shook my head and watched as Jackson supervised the sweaty, pretty grim, rugby shorts and tops, plus socks, jockstraps and underwear being stuffed into Seph’s kit bag. He’s already put his own stuff in there and hung up what he was changing into – grey sweats and a hoodie, and I knew he wouldn’t think to reopen his bag. He wasn’t enough of a preener to not use the shower gel that was already in the stalls.
“That saves Marie a job,” Jackson picked up his towel and headed for the shower. “Think we can call it revenge for one of the many things he’s put us through.”
Eli laughed. He’d had the quickest shower and was checking his phone.
“What’s Ava up to?”
“They’ve gone for a walk into the village.” He put his phone down and rested his head against the white tiles. “Fuck.”
“What’s up?” I knew he’d been working all the hours he could on a case that he and Payton had taken on between them. It had been complex and busy, two other sides involved and Eli had taken a lead, making Payton go home when he’d stayed to finish off what absolutely had to be done for court.
He shook his head. “I’ve barely seen her since Bonfire night. I can’t tell you the last time we went out for a meal together on our own. I’m cocking this up.”
“You spoken to her?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I’m worried she’s going to think I don’t want to be with her or we’ve grown apart.” He put his head down and held it in his hands. “She can do better than me. I just didn’t want her to realise that until we’d married.”
I was not the best person to impart any sort of relationship advice. That was what my sisters were for, or at a push, Seph.
“As her big brother, I should agree that she can do better, but I don’t think she can. She wouldn’t have moved in with you if she wasn’t in this for the long run. Just talk to her.” That was about the level of my guidance.
He nodded. “I need to find some time with her. I know she’s pissed I didn’t take her to my sister’s, but Izzy asked for it to just be me.”
“Did you tell Ava that?”
“I don’t think she believed me.”
I stood up, relaxed the towel that was hanging round my waist. “Talk to her. If you don’t, you’re fucked.”
Just after we’d all moved out, Marie and our father started to renovate our childhood home. Vic had once asked me why we didn’t move when Marie and Dad married, given that it was where my mother had taken her own life and for a few years, it hadn’t been a happy place.
But when Marie moved over from the States after a whirlwind romance with my father, the house changed. The sofas, sideboards and crockery that had been a wedding gift to my parents found their way to charity shops and Marie started to make the house ours. We had a playroom, which became a games room, a huge climbing frame was built outside, she bought a sandpit for Callum and took us down to the river at the end of the garden and encouraged us to get messy, climb trees.
The house wasn’t filled with a grumbling nanny anymore and we were allowed to be indoors and make noise. At first, I didn’t like Marie; not because she was trying to be our mother – she wasn’t and never pretended to be – but because I’d been used to trying to be a parent. I’d looked after our mum when she wasn’t well, tried to get her to eat and get out of bed; I’d learned how to change Callum’s nappies and feed him and I knew how to contact the doctor if anyone wasn’t well.
My primary school hadn’t known, but there were times when it was me who got my brother and sister up and made sure they got dressed and had breakfast before we walked the half mile there. My dad spent a lot of time in London and my mum spent a lot of time in bed.
