Phelan looked up at him, raw pain in his expression.
“We didn’t have much of a role model but you were kind to me,” Newt said.
“Because Dad wasn’t.”
“I wasn’t the sort of son he wanted.” Newt shrugged.
“He should have wanted you. You’re the best of all of us… How the fuck did you turn out so well?”
“Because of you, Phelan. You didn’t let me fall, didn’t letme do the wrong thing, didn’t want me to be like you or Sean. Remember when you taught me to drive?”
“Scared me to death. Sat with my hand over the brake.”
Newt chuckled.
“You were so good. On the forecourt anyway. Parking and manoeuvring… It was a pleasure to watch you.”
“I hated cars.”
“I know.”
River gulped when he registered that Newt hadn’t driven for seven years. That explained why he’d started off so cautiously. And clearly parallel parking was in his DNA.
“Sean brought photo albums… Over there.”
Newt carried them over so he and Phelan could look at them together. River moved so he could see too. They’d had a very different upbringing to him. Newt’s family weren’t poor but they were compared to River’s, except that had ended up as a lie. He sat and watched Newt and Phelan look through the pictures and was glad Newt felt able to smile at some of the memories.
“Yum…After Eight mints,” Newt said.
“A present for me…but you ate half of them. When I took one, you took four… Didn’t realise until I picked up empty wrappers from the box.” Phelan coughed again.
There was a sweet photo of a determined, gangly-legged Newt running in sports day when he was ten. Another of him playing cricket in the street with Phelan. Christmas pictures. BBQ pictures. Rathnait, their sister, was beautiful. The little doll of the family who’d looked older than she was even as a kid. Eight going on eighteen. Interesting though, because River could see Newt was on the outside of things, on the edge of photos, always a beat away from the rest, a serious-looking boy who was never the centre of attention.
“I haven’t forgotten what you did for me,” Newt said. “All those things you showed me how to do. How to whistle through a blade of grass. Fastening my tie. How to make fire. How to snap my fingers. You gave me money when Dad wouldn’t. You were always kind.”
“And I undid it all that night. If I could take it back…I would.” Phelan was sobbing again now, his face wet with tears. “Were you…all right inside? Oh fuck, of course you weren’t. I’m sorry.”
“I coped. Nothing bad happened.”
“I paid guys to help keep you safe.”
Newt looked shocked by that.
“Are you sure nothing bad happened?”
“No. I was okay. I wondered sometimes when I’d been shuffled away from potential problems. I thought it was luck and me being careful. But…hmm. Thank you for that.”
Phelan coughed. “Now I’m paying for what I did.”
Newt sat on the bed. “Only for being stupid and smoking. Not for anything else. That’s not the way life works.”
“Not a day passed without me thinking about you. A couple of times I almost went to the police and told the truth, but I was a coward. I’m so sorry.”
“I know you’re sorry. And I know you were pushed into it by Sean and our parents. Mum would have pushed hardest. You were always her favourite son.”
“I’m not going to blame them. They were part of it, yes, but I let it happen. I could have spoken out… Stopped it. I thought… I’ll not see my child until they’re a teenager. Lily’s father was as much of a bastard as ours. I just couldn’t let him be a grandad without me there… but I had no right to let you take the blame.” He had a short coughing fit. “I can never make it up to you. I can’t ask you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was.”
“But I do forgive you,” Newt said quietly and took hold of Phelan’s hand.
