‘Alright, bro.’ He’s pushing their mum in a wheelchair. He grins at me and parks his mum next to me at the table. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he says, as cheeky as ever. ‘Fancy seeing you here. That’s one way to make my day.’
Jackson’s eyes flash him a narrowed look.
‘Decided it was about time I tried one of Jackson’s unicorn milkshakes,’ I say, waggling my half-empty mini milk bottle.
‘You look as red as Ellie did from cycling here,’ Jackson says dryly.
‘You would too if you’d pushed Mum all the way here. The wheelchair doesn’t fit in the back of my Mini.’ He bends to gently tuck the soft grey blanket back around his mum’s legs.
‘It’ll keep you fit,’ Sophie says with a weak smile. She reaches out to pat his hand. ‘But I do appreciate it. I needed some fresh air and there’s something special about being able to hear and smell the sea.’
I’m fixated on her hand. The brown age spots are prominent against the sinews of her hand. It looks like the skin is melted directly on the bones. I cast my look up to her face. She’s still talking to Milo, so I can look without being caught staring. Hercheek bones are prominent and her skin is wrinkled as it hangs from them. She’s almost pale green in colour, although she’s applied blusher, but not with any finesse, and her eyebrows are awkwardly painted on too. Her thin wispy curls have been brushed neatly, but it simply accentuates how little hair she has.
‘We’re getting Mum a drink. Do you want another?’ says Jackson, dragging my attention towards him.
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’
‘Milo, come on,’ says Jackson sharply and the lads head towards the camper, leaving Sophie and me together.
The quiet isn’t calming and I’m trawling my head for the right thing to say. The normal opening to conversations centre around ‘how are you?’ and ‘have you been up to much?’ And I don’t think either of those work.
‘They’re good boys.’ Sophie breaks the quiet. ‘I’m glad I got to see Jackson. And he pushed Milo to finish the van. He never seemed to have time with all his other garage work. They’ve made a great job of it, haven’t they?’ She’s staring over at her two lads and her eyes have misted over. Her chest is moving up and down and her breath raspy, as if it was an effort to speak for that long.
‘You could always go over to Australia to see him. Have you been?’
She shakes her head. ‘It’s too far. I’ll not get there now. That’s why he came to me.’
I’m about to ask her what that means, when raised voices float over from the van.
‘What is it with you going behind my back?’ Jackson’s angry. I’ve rarely heard him raise his voice.
‘Get over yourself,’ snaps back Milo.
They’re standing a couple of metres apart and look as if they’re on the brink of throwing punches.
‘Boys,’ says Sophie. But her voice is weak and it doesn’t carry.
I touch her arm. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Remember what happened last time?’ Jackson takes a step towards his brother, who doesn’t flinch one bit. If anything, Milo squares his shoulders and looks Jackson directly in the eye.
‘Don’t even try it,’ Milo growls. ‘I’m not a kid anymore.’
‘OK. OK.’ I plant myself between them. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘He’s threatening to hit me,’ says Milo.
‘He’s what? Why?’
‘Because that’s what he did last time. Gave me a black eye.’ Milo’s eyes shoot daggers at his brother.
‘Last time?’ I still don’t understand what is going on.
Milo shuffles his feet. ‘New Year’s Eve. Remember when I kissed you?’ he says, still glaring at Jackson.
I freeze. Shit. I didn’t think that would come back to bite me.
‘You hit him?’ I swing around to look at Jackson.
