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I roll my eyes, thinking back to those days. Back when my father was still alive, and the personal trainer for the Ashford household. He and I lived in one of the staff cottages, with one of his prized championship belts above the mantle.
But we never were made to feel like “the help.” My father was basically an uncle to Thomas, as his was an uncle to me. We grew up more like brothers or cousins than anything else. And it’s due to Geoffrey Ashford’s generosity, and his view of me as blood that I ever even got into Lord’s College for Business with Thomas.
“There was this one… hang on, I bet I’ve still got it.”
Thomas beckons for the pack of cigarettes, which I give. He slides the plastic wrapping halfway off the stock-card pack, leaving a little clear pocket of wrapper. The glowing end of his cigarette touches the plastic, burning a little hole in it.
He grins at me, taking a drag of smoke and then gently blowing it into that pocket of air. Deftly, he flicks the underside of the now smoke-filled wrapper. Instantly, little rings of smoke blip from the hole, like puffs from a tiny train.
I snicker as he laughs like a little kid.
“Fuck me, I think smoking was basically cool after he showed us that.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, dad.”
Thomas smiles, turning to gaze out over the gray city before us while we smoke in silence.
“I need to ask you to do something.”
I tense my jaw before shaking it away and turning to him.
“Nah, fuck off with that deathbed request shit. You’ve still got that specialist from China with the promising—”
“It’s a no, Noel.”
The words aren’t a slap in the face or anything. The Chinese doctor and his experimental ideas on treating the massive tumor in Thomas’s brain without killing him was always a moon-shot of an idea. Fantasy science fiction, to be honest.
Still sucks to hear.
I suck my teeth, turning to stab my gaze out over London.
“I’m not coming back from this,” he says evenly, his voice devoid of self-pity or misery. “Short of them removing my head entirely, this thing is here to stay.”
“Well, that might honestly be an improvement,” I shrug, grinning. “Least you’d stop overthinking everything all the bloody time.”
He grins at me.
“You’re a prick.”
“I know.”
“I still need to ask you to do something.”
I drag angrily on my cigarette to cover my scowl.
“What.”
“When I go, it’s going to destroy Cassie.”
My mouth thins.
“Look, c’mon, mate. I know you two have never gotten along. I gave up trying to force my best friend and the woman I love to be friends a long time ago. It’s fine, I don’t begrudge you that.”
I wish I liked Cassandra, like I once did. But that’s something I gave up years ago, when I swallowed her secret to spare my best friend that pain.
“She’s got money, of course. And everything I have will obviously go to her and Ella.”
I look away.
