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‘Ed’s a Labrador.’
Alexa fills in the last blank, and although I don’t want to feel it, relief washes over me all the same—even though it’s none of my business...none at all.
‘So you’ve taken up running?’ I say with polite interest. ‘Since when?’
I know straight away I’ve put my foot in it. The hint of colour in Alexa’s face vanishes and my mother looks at her with a definite wince.
I know the answer already.
But it’s too late to take it back.
Alexa clears her throat. Her fingers play with her cutlery and then she looks back at me, her face admirably still. ‘A few years ago.’
Try seven, my brain supplies for her.
I stuff a fork full of shepherd’s pie into my mouth and chew it with a nod, wishing for a rapid change in subject. My mother thankfully comes to my aid.
‘So, how was your trip to London, Cain?’ she rushes out, her smile forced as she looks at me. ‘Was the event a success?’
I take a sip of wine to help the food go down. I can’t remember ever having endured a meal as tense as this one. The second my father made his announcement seven years ago I ran. But there would be no running now. I’m not the same man I was then, and I don’t run. Not any more.
I put down my glass and give another nod. Christ, if I keep on like this I’m going to come across like one of those ridiculous nodding dogs you get in the back of vehicles.
I force my head to still. ‘I believe so.’
‘Event?’ Alexa asks, jumping on the change in topic too.
‘I sponsor a youth centre back in London—’
‘Don’t be so modest, love.’ My mother shakes her head at me before looking to Alexa. ‘He launched that youth centre; without him it wouldn’t exist.’
It’s my turn to pink up. And I don’t blush. Ever.
‘It would have eventually,’ I say. ‘The proposal was already in place.’
‘Yes—and you took that proposal, built on it, and made it a reality.’
I couldn’t exactly deny it, but boasting about it...
I rub the back of my neck, which sure as hell feels hot. My cheeks burn.
I do these things to help people. Kids. Teens. People who need an outlet—somewhere to go to feel safe, less alone, to vent and let off steam.
‘What does this youth centre do?’ Alexa looks at me, and her interest seems so genuine I struggle to quash the spark of pride it triggers.
‘It’s a place for kids to hang out, play sport, study...or just get help.’
‘Help?’
‘We have counsellors on hand.’ I shrug. ‘Sometimes they just need to talk to someone who won’t judge, won’t hit back... It’s a safe environment for them to work off steam and make something of themselves.’
‘He funded it, and he helps to run it too. Tell Alexa what you were doing this weekend.’ Mum smiles at me indulgently and then says to Alexa, ‘You will love this!’
My cheeks burn deeper and I pick up my glass for another swig. At least I’m not nodding now. I can see what Mum’s doing. She’s trying to big me up in front of Alexa. No doubt looking for us to make amends, to get Alexa to accept that I may have walked out but, hey, I’m a good man really.
Well, screw that. I have no amends to make.
She moved on. I didn’t.
