Page 34 of Playing By Ear

So maybe Jamie’s father ran a big business, where news of his terminal illness would hurt stock prices. “In your shoes, I wouldn’t trust sensitive secrets to someone I’d met four days ago.” Perry waited for the last swelling chord of the Stone Temple Pilots song to fade. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to tell me?”

Jamie gave a bitter chuckle. “Nae need. When the news says a famous Glaswegian got taken down by a brain tumor, you’ll know it’s my dad.”

“So his secret will live as long as him and not a day longer. At least I’ve got the parameters.”

Jamie’s laugh turned genuine, and he tapped his pint glass against Perry’s. “What else do you want to know? Mind, I might need to say ‘no comment’ to avoid lying to you. I never want to lie to you.”

Perry had contemplated this conversation during his post-match shower. As a journalist, he’d learned how to put an interviewee at ease. Plunging straight into the meaty bits tended to scare people off, so it was best to circle in, often by asking about someone other than the subject.

“How’s your sister dealing with it?” he asked, watching Jamie’s shoulder to see if it tensed or relaxed.

It did the latter, as Perry had hoped.

“Efficiently,” Jamie said. “She’s handling the practical and financial bits, which she’s brilliant at. I’m to look after Dad in a more personal way, as she’s not the nurturing sort.”

“Are you the nurturing sort?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Jamie said. “He’ll enroll in hospice eventually, which will mean more support for me as a carer.”

“When my gran died, the hospice people were amazing. They made it feel a natural part of life. It was still sad, of course, but it was almost, I don’t know, nice? That sounds odd, but I can’t think of a better word, and I’m a writer.”

“Good to know. Sorry about your gran.” Jamie’s hand brushed Perry’s elbow, but didn’t linger. “Anyway, it’ll let my dad stay at home till the end.”

“And you’ll go and live with him?”

“God, no. That’d lower both our life expectancies.” Jamie took another sip of his pint. “For now I’ll go a few times a week, do whatever he needs. Bring him to the doctor, take the bins out, or just let him have a moan.”

“He’ll have a lot to moan about, I imagine. Where’s your father live?”

Jamie hesitated, and Perry gave himself a mental kick. It had been an offhand, polite question as to how far Jamie would have to travel, but it no doubt sounded intrusive.

“In Glasgow,” Jamie said, “but not the West End.”

Perry could have guessed that by Jamie’s accent. It had the typical Glaswegian glottal stop in place of the ts, whereas Perry’s lifelong residence in and around Glasgow Uni had left him pronouncing every t as though his life depended on it.

He backed off and asked a less threatening question. “When did they know something was wrong?”

“Dad started having dizziness and headaches a couple of months ago. At first he swore it was just stress, but then he had a seizure in front of my sister. They went to the doctor, and…the rest is glioblastoma.”

Perry touched Jamie’s wrist, half-expecting him to pull away and glad when he didn’t. “How is he taking the news?”

“Poorly.” Jamie was silent for a few moments. “The man’s only fifty-six. He expected to be in charge of everyone else for another twenty years. Now he’s not even in charge of his own body.”

Perry knew that feeling, though his retinal revolt was nothing compared to a brain tumor.

“Talking of Dad being human,” Jamie said, “I lied about why I left home.”

Another secret. “Oh?” Perry asked, trying to keep the rabid curiosity out of his voice.

“It was nothing to do with me being gay. My dad is many terrible things, but he’s not a homophobe. After seeing him yesterday, I couldn’t let that lie stand.”

Either Jamie was an incredibly decent person or he still felt a remnant of loyalty to his father. Or both?

“Thank you for sharing all this,” Perry said. “It means a lot, you opening up.”

“Only fair. This way you can leg it, now you know the absolute shambles I am.”

“Hmm.” Perry scratched his chin and squinted at the ceiling in a show of deliberation. “Is it weird I want to see you even more after hearing all that?”