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“We’re here. Give me your keys.”
“I can manage.”
“You probably can, but I want to make sure you’re okay. Now get out of the car, and let’s get you settled.”
Reluctantly I walked up the short path to the front door and handed John the keys. How much worse could this evening get?
CHAPTER FOUR
JOHN
Iwas hungry. I’d eaten an early dinner and was about to settle down to watch the football when the munchies hit. I tried to ignore my craving for some junk food, but the hankering continued to gnaw at me.
The local supermarket had closed a few hours ago, but a place close by opened until late.
The store was full of drunks, which was to be expected this late. I battled through scantily clad women and men spoiling for a fight, eager to get out of there and back home. I bought a pot of my favourite ice cream and a bag of crisps, then headed back to my car but stopped dead in my tracks.
Liam trudged in the middle of the footpath, being jostled by people around him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes darting from side to side. No damn coat either, and I’d bet this pot of ice cream he was freezing.
“Liam? Is that you?” I shouted.
And that was how I found myself in his small house late on a Sunday night.
I sat him on a chair in the kitchen. Shivers racked his body despite the coat he wore or the fact that I’d had the heating on full in the car.
Something had happened. Finding out exactly what was my goal. After I’d made him some coffee.
I worked quietly, searching the cupboards for the coffee machine, but I only found a jar of instant coffee. How on earth did people drink this shit? Pops loved his coffee, and that had rubbed off on me. I couldn’t drink instant or the fancy pods that people seemed to like so much these days.
This would have to do. I boiled the kettle and made him one as strong as I dared. I remembered he’d used a little sugar in the coffee shop and sweetened it, I hoped, to his liking.
“Drink it slowly.” I handed him the mug and sat opposite him. “Take your time.”
I was in no rush. The ice cream would keep a while longer in the car. The temperature outside was already below zero. I sipped on the bottle of water I’d found in the fridge.
His red-rimmed eyes suggested he’d been crying, and the dark circles he’d tried to hide were prominent, adding to my hypothesis that he still wasn’t doing well.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” I stretched my legs out in front of me.
He shook his head and cradled his coffee mug in his hands.
“Perhaps I can help?” I knocked his foot under the table.
“No one can help me.”
“Are you sure? I’d like to try, Liam. My offer from the other day still stands.”
“Look, John. You didn’t want to help me five years ago. Why the fuck would you bother now?” He sounded and looked exhausted.
He had a point, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason. Seeing him last week in the barber’s had stirred something inside me—an urge to care for him. I knew about the relationship he’d had with Stuart. The Daddy-little dynamic. I’d done my research, and while I didn’t think it would interest me, it had helped me understand what Liam had been going through when it came to an end.
He’d likely felt lost and alone, adrift even. It couldn’t have been easy for him. Was he still living the lifestyle? Who knew?
“Look, how about we get you up to bed? You look like you could sleep for a week.”
He said nothing but stood wearily, his hands deep in the pockets of my coat.
I carried his mug and followed him upstairs to his room. He pushed open the door and flopped face forward onto his double bed.
