“Sorry, Derek. Sorry, sorry.” He gives our host a coquettish little wave. “Carry on.”
The next bit Derek says is lost on me. Mostly, I think he’s explaining the work of the liaison officers to the newbies and how they can access future meeting dates.
“What the fuck?” I take the opportunity to hiss. “Anyone else expected, or is this the whole fucking family?”
“Isaac sends his apologies,” Ezra whispers, straight-faced. “He’s working.”
“And Gerald doesn’t like you,” Alaric adds helpfully. “He pretends he doesn’t, anyhow. It’s not true—he’s simply grumpy and jealous.” He makes an appreciative sound. “So freaking hot.”
“Maybe it’s just as well,” I mutter, “seeing as you and Derek here,” I jerk my chin over to the liaison officer, who is showing an elderly man on the second row how to turn on the hard-of-hearing induction loop, “are apparently such good mates.”
“Haven’t you ever come across him?” Alaric throws Derek a fond smile. “And yes, I do absolutely mean that literally. He’s Derek the Dom.” His forehead wrinkles in a frown. “Haven’t seen him in yonks. And never in that fucking awful outfit. Fucked me two years ago last June. Three times in one night and again the next morning. Orange stripey bedding. Feather pillows. I should remember, seeing as I had my face smooshed into one for about eight hours and sneezed solidly for two days afterwards. Lives with his brother, over Ealing way. Nice line in aftercare. Absolutely massive?—”
“Anyone fancy another biscuit?” Ezra interrupts, slapping a hand across Alaric’s mouth. “No? Good.”
Alaric wriggles away, his gap-toothed grin filling the lower half of his face. Fighting blindness alone? No chance of thathappening. Escaping Ez, he leans across to me. “Technically, that makes you and lovely Derek here sperm brothers, darling.”
I show him my middle finger. The alternative—contemplating how full my heart feels right now—will make me cry.
CHAPTER 31
LUKE
Scheduled for ninety minutes, the meeting runs over two hours, mostly because, at the end, Ezra and Alaric pepper Derek with a million sensible questions I can’t think to ask, seeing as my anxieties are entirely focused on Neil. He’s not let go of my hand during the entire meeting.
“You okay?” I check at the end, when Alaric and Ez have Derek cornered by the coffee urns. Ez even has his phone out, taking notes.
“Honestly? A bit overwhelmed.” Neil rubs the back of his neck as he glances across at his friends. “It’s a lot. But in a good way.”
“You have some amazing mates.”
“Yeah. I…uh…don’t really know what to do with it. I’m…I feel in shock. For months I’ve thought I’d lose the business, be generally side-lined. And now I know that’s not going to happen, I feel…knocked off my feet.”
Alaric wraps Derek up in a bear hug. Ez is balancing his third mug of tea with an armful of pamphlets. “They’re big personalities, aren’t they? Good to have on your side.”
“Yeah.” Neil’s face is a picture of exhaustion.
“Fancy a walk in the fresh air?” I suggest.
“Yeah,” he sighs, relieved. “I just need to thank Derek first. And maybe get the dates for when the meetings start up again after the Christmas break.”
Paddington Rec isn’t far away. On a Saturday afternoon, the park is teeming with folks making the most of the crisp and sunny wintry spell: dog walkers, footballers, families congregating over at the play area. We head for the quieter side, sauntering aimlessly around the empty cricket pitch where the grass is a little too long at the boundaries, the centre crease covered with tarp for the winter. A semi-circle of wrought iron benches frames the front of the closed pavilion; we choose a dry one and, with Neil’s arm around my shoulders, huddle close.
“It’s going to be weird knowing what things around me look like—this cricket pitch, for instance—but one day only seeing it in my mind.” Neil tips his head back to gaze up at the pale blue sky. “The world will still be here, but I’ll have nothing but the version of it I remembered. I’m trying to get my head around that, only it’s too big a concept to grasp.”
“I can’t imagine how that must feel,” I answer truthfully.
“No, I don’t think anyone can, except for the people in that meeting. Maybe I should ask one of them.”
He’s quiet for a moment, tracking a couple of wood pigeons flitting in and out of the trees. Playfully, he nudges me. “At least I’ll always picture myself as young. I’ll turn grey and never know.”
“Alaric will point the grey hairs out to you, have no worries about that.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He huffs a laugh. “I’ll still be punk as fuck.”
I don’t doubt it for a minute. The pigeons land on the cricket pitch, pecking and circling each other, heads bobbing as if they’re old friends enjoying easy companionship.
“Did Alaric ever tell you,” Neil asks, suddenly, “what I said to him before I passed out in the hospital?” His hand reaches for mine. “Or did he tell you and you’ve forgotten?”
