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‘I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘Will you help me to get down?’
‘Why do you think I’m here?’ He gave a reassuring wink. ‘We’ll take it slowly, don’t worry.’
‘Thank you.’
‘So... You ran off?’
‘Yes. I told my father I hated him.’
‘Ah.’
There was a brief pause. ‘I don’t.’
‘I know. I’m sure he knows that, too.’
‘I’m just angry.’
‘I don’t blame you.’
‘Really?’ The boy looked surprised. ‘Then you don’t think I ought to forgive him?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Sebastian feigned an interest in some nearby twigs. ‘Sometimes it can be hard to understand what you’re feeling. Sometimes a man needs to run away for a while in order to make sense of things.’
‘Is that what you’re doing?’
He made a wry face. ‘Something like that, but perhaps it’s better to forgive and forget and concentrate on what matters. You love your father really, don’t you?’
Another pause. ‘Yes.’
‘Then that’s what matters.’
‘I suppose so... Uncle Sebastian?’ Peter sounded anxious again. ‘Now that my father’s back, does this mean you’ll go away?’
‘I don’t know.’ He felt a stab of fear in his chest. ‘I hope not.’
‘I like having you as my uncle.’
‘I like it, too. Very much.’
‘And you love Aunt Henrietta, don’t you?’
He smiled. ‘You’re a smart boy, but right now we need to get down before that storm hits. Put your foot here.’
He led the way, instructing Peter where to hold on and where to place his feet as they made their way slowly down the trunk. There were plenty of footholds, enough that they would probably have made it to the ground quite safely if it hadn’t been for the rain making the bark slippery. Unfortunately for them, however, it had, a large chunk of it peeling away beneath Peter’s fingertips and sending them both tumbling through the air to the ground.
‘Oof!’ Sebastian felt stunned for a few seconds. It wasn’t so much the fall that hurt, or the root beneath his back, as the weight of a ten-year-old boy landing on top of his chest.
‘Sorry.’ Peter wriggled away to one side and then yelped.
‘What’s the matter?’ He tried to sit up, then fell back as his ribs protested.
‘My foot hurts.’
‘Can you stand?’ He rolled on to his right shoulder, using his arm to push himself up to a sitting position. That felt marginally better, though he was still aware of a searing pain in his side.
‘Only on one leg, I think.’
