Page 44

Dylan shrugged. “I know there are people now who I can rely on. Michael, Carrie, Ellen, Mary. You . . .”

“You just choose not to?”

“I usually sort things out for myself.”

“So it’s done properly?”

“No, not really,” Dylan said. He shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“What is it then?” Lucy asked gently.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “When I was little, I was let down by . . . well, a lot of people. My own parents, first of all, but then by various foster families. I was too difficult for them. Too demanding. In fairness, I was a pain. I was hurting and the way I showed that was by causing trouble. I don’t blame them.”

He went quiet again.

“You were a child,” Lucy said, doing everything she could to hide from her voice the anger she felt at how he’d been treated. “They knew what you’d been through, and they should have had the training to be able to support you and get you the help you needed.”

Dylan shrugged. “I think a lot of it was attention seeking. Anyway, I grew out of it. I always had Michael, and I also became friends with some other good kids. But by that time I’d been moved into a children’s home about ten miles away from town. It actually closed down a few years ago. There was no hope of getting much attention there, I soon realised, so I kept my head down and got on with school.”

“You learned not to be demanding of people, not to ask too much of them, because, if you do, they desert you,” Lucy said slowly.

“Yeah . . . I guess you could look at it like that,” Dylan said.

Lucy felt like her heart would break as she watched him, imagining him as a little boy, passed around a bunch of people who didn’t want him because he wasn’t an easy child, who gave up on him because he needed more from them than they were willing, or able, to give.

She stood up and moved in front of Dylan. She looked into his eyes. Eyes which were brimming with tears. She drew him into a hug. Wordlessly letting him know that she understood, and that what had happened to him wasn’t right. And somehow wanting to reassure him that he could ask things of her. He could need her, exactly as she asked things of him and was growing to need him. She realised she wanted him to need her, to rely on her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, finally breaking away from their hug. Her hands moved down to his thighs, and his rested on her waist. Neither of them went to move further apart.

Dylan sniffed. “Yeah,” he said. “I think so. Sorry for getting all emotional.”

“Don’t be daft. Thank you for sharing with me. I hate that you went through that, and I want you to know that you can trust and rely on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t stand me most of the time,” Dylan said with a weak laugh.

“That’s . . . that’s not true,” said Lucy. “I didn’t know you well before. I’m getting to know you now, and, yeah, you’re still annoying and bossy and a know-it-all—”

“Is this really your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m not finished! Despite all this, I definitely like spending time with you. And not just because you do things for me. Because you make me laugh and you’re good company. I’m sorry I didn’t give you enough of a chance to show me before. That was completely on me and because of my own hang-ups.”

“Wow,” said Dylan. “Isn’t this a turn-up for the books? If I’d realised me being terrified of heights would have got this sort of reaction, I might have been tempted to have gone up in a death trap with you before.”

“A death trap!” Lucy laughed.

“Yes. Though I had suspected that you’d been beginning to thaw towards me for a little while now, to be honest.”

“Oh yeah, what gave me away?”

“It was on Wednesday I think that I realised you’d gone the whole day without rolling your eyes or sighing at me.”

“I was clearly not paying attention then.”

Dylan laughed and dropped his hands from her hips. The way he looked at her made her wonder if he realised that she missed his touch. The way he continued to look at her made her wonder if he was sorry he’d let her go. Flustered, she removed her hands from his thighs and began collecting together the greaseproof paper.

“But, be that as it may, we’re friends, and that means it works both ways. You need to accept help from me if you need it.”

Dylan was silent for a moment before he said, “OK. Thank you. I’ll try.”