Marnie chews on her lip, and Tom can sense her displeasure. “What is it?”
His mother taps a finger on her table. “I don’t think travelling is a good idea. You were a mess after your father died, and then, just when you seemed to be getting brighter and better, you took yourself off to London and went straight backto square one. You’ve been in a dark mood since you got back from England, you know. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” Tom lies, and his mother, to her credit, doesn’t try to argue with him.
“If you say so. But let me say this. Travelling isn’t the answer for you.”
Tom sighs. “So, what is then?”
Marnie gives him a pointed look. “Staying here with me. Maybe meeting a nice woman—”
“Mom—”
“Let me finish,” Marnie complains. “You could meet a nice woman. Start a family. Maybe take up that position on the board of the family business they keep offering you—”
“No,” Tom says firmly. “That’s not for me. It was a great role for you. But it’s not for me.”
“It’s a family business,” Marnie says again, and her finger is tapping double-time on her glass tabletop now. “It’s wrong for it to be run by a bunch of strangers in suits when you’re sitting right here twiddling your thumbs and spending all your time feeling — forgive me — sad.”
Tom gives her a look. “Mom,” he says softly. “It’s just not for me.”
At that, Marnie slumps back in her chair. “No,” she says bitterly. “It isn’t for you, just like it wasn’t for your father and just like it wasn’t for Corentin.”
With a sigh, Tom comes to a stand. He walks over to his mother and crouches beside her.
“Mom,” he says softly, “I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to you.”
Marnie sighs too, reaching over to take one of Tom’s hands. “You aren’t a disappointment to me,” she offers. “Never that.”
“Corentin—” Tom begins, and Marnie gives a short laugh.
“I love your brother, but he left a decorated naval career to become a Druid. Tell me any family that wouldn’t find that a little odd.” She gives Tom a small smile. “Okay, I’ll pin all my hopes on a grandchild one day then.”
“Mom—”
“I’m just kidding,” Marnie says quickly, but Tom knows his mother, and can hear the grain of truth in her tone.
“Sure you are,” he says.
“I am,” Marnie argues. “But you really should try and meet someone, Tom. It isn’t healthy for a man of your age to be alone. I mean, there’s never been anyone special in your life since you were a teenager. You should fall in love a little more.” Marnie squeezes his hand, and Tom knows she’s thinking of Doug. Even with all their troubles, Tom knows his mother loved his father.
“Love is wonderful. Magical, even.”
Magic.
Tom takes a deep breath as, once again, Ari’s face and smile come to his mind. Without even thinking, he feels for the playing card he keeps in his pocket. These days, the fool is always with him, still chasing Ari’s queen. Always chasing Ari’s queen, Tom realises. Reassurance floods through him when he feels the familiar outline against his fingers, the edges now beginning to wear thin with his repeated caressing.
Marnie’s eyes, always sharp, follow his movements.
“What’s that?” she asks, nodding to Tom’s hand.
“Nothing,” Tom replies, trying to keep his voice calm.
“Tom,” his mother begins, and he looks into her eyes. They’re brown, as deep and warm as usual, though tinged with what Tom thinks might be doubt.
“Yeah?”
His mother stares at where the card had sat in his hand. “There hasn’t been anyone special in your life recently, has there?”
