Someone is watching us.
They can tell we’re not from around here.
Turning left onto Garrick, one home has three satellite dishes.
I try to keep the mood light.
“Three is a bit fancy. Must be a gamer.”
Marco laughs, despite his nerves.
He gestures for me to pull to the side.
I leave the engine idling to keep the air con cranked.
“Here's the school,” he announces.
At first, I don’t see it.
Then tucked behind the trees, I spot a small building with a yellow sign.
“How many...?”
“Ten or eleven kids, usually.”
“Until their thirteenth birthday?”
“Yep, then off to boarding school. But only if your parents have the money.”
And his didn’t.
“My mates all disappeared overnight. Didn't even have wifi to stay in touch.”
There’s so much sadness in that memory.
So Porter was your first friend in years,I realise.
It must have been lonely as hell.
“Loved reading though,” he smiles. “That was my favourite part about those years. I’d sneak books home in my bag and hide them under my bed. The teacher turned a blind eye.”
His gaze drifts for a moment.
“I think that immersion in books is the one reason I kept my head above water when I did my degree at uni. That, and sheer desperation to make something of myself.”
I kiss him on the hand.
“I know I keep saying it, but… I really am so proud of you.”
“Be proud of me if I make it to Beth's without losing my shit.”
He leans forward to pull the sketchbook from my bag.
Flipping to the scene of him and his mum wandering beneath the stars, he rests a hand on it.
And for the longest moment, we sit.
???
