“Oh relax, for fuck’s sake. I don’t know what’s the matter with you lately. You need to start taking your own advice.” He waves a hand. “Go and photograph something. That always relaxes you.”
I bite my lip. Photography no longer relaxes me, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t explain how my hand shakes when I reach for my camera, or how I then have to turn away from it. The one thing that has always brought me joy has now turned on me. My camera is now the enemy who is unwilling to help me anymore. In my more fanciful moments, I wonder if it’s my fault for subjecting it to the images we’ve taken together.
Jez wouldn’t understand anyway. He’s fearless out in the field, and I’ve always matched him step for step, but not lately.
I shove the thought away when I realise he’s staring at me. The ringing of my phone is a welcome distraction. I look down at the screen. “It’s Grey,” I say. He groans and I look at him sternly. “Pack it in.”
“I’m going to check in. I’ll see you in the bar at seven. We’ll take the kid out for dinner, humour him, and then pack him off to bed so we can go out and have some actual fucking fun.”
“Father of the year,” I murmur. He raises his middle finger at me and strides into the hotel.
I click to accept the call. “Grey?” I say to my friend and hookup partner.
“I thought you weren’t going to answer.”
“It was just Jez.”
“When isn’t it?”
I listen to his warm voice and feel a wave of affection. “Please tell me you’re on the way here now? I have a big bed waiting for you.” The silence warns me, and I groan. “No. What’s happened?”
“Edwin called in sick. I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it, babe.”
Disappointment runs through me. I was banking on him being here. We’ve been friends for years, and I’ve always loved his calm, funny manner. It soothes me, and I’m in definite need of that lately. He was my friend before any benefits started, and he’ll be that when they finish.
“Sorry,” he says again. “I wasreallylooking forward to seeing you.”
I start to walk into the hotel. “And getting your balls emptied.”
“You old charmer, you.”
“That’s me,” I say grimly. “Charming. Hold on a second.”
I need a drink. I spy the entrance to the bar and make my way in, finding myself in a small, wood-panelled room. I set my bags down and sit myself at the bar on a padded stool, inhaling the scent of wood polish, air freshener, and the faint tang of beer. It’s a familiar scent—one that can summon England for me when I’m far away in the hot arid landscapes where I work. The barman strides over and I quickly order a beer before turning back to the phone.
“Okay. I’m back.”
“Lucky me. So, how long are you there for?” Grey asks.
“Three days. We’ve got the funeral next week, but before that, he’s going to meet his son.”
“How very non-lovely for that poor child. Tell me, was Jez’s son evil in a former life?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t met him yet.”
“He must have been to land up with Jez as a father. Maybe he was a spree killer who targeted old people. Maybe he decapitated the heads of plants.”
“That’syour idea of wicked? Someone who’s bad at gardening.”
“Tell it to the plants, Reuben. They’re the ones that have to suffer because of Jez’s failings.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever make any sense, and then I realise the world doesn’t work that way.”
“Jez is a tosser.”
“He’s not that bad,” I say automatically in his defence.
“Yes, he is. He’s selfish, an egomaniac, and a complete bellend.”
