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Our mother was dirt poor and so were we, until Dad swept in and took us away. Now Dimitrios finds out that the mother of his child was raising Max in similar circumstances to our mother.
His guilt is understandable but, given that he had no clue about Max, it’s hardly his fault.
‘You don’t make a pudding?’ Dimitrios asks Max thoughtfully.
‘Nope.’
‘Maybe that’s what we should do.’
‘With raisins and dates? I like that one. Mrs Appleby upstairs makes it like that. And she puts cinnamin—cinnamum—a nice spice all through it.’
‘Whatever you want,’ Dimitrios agrees. ‘We’ll find a recipe with Mummy.’
Some time later, we pass a playground and Max goes in for a run around. Dimitrios and I stand with takeaway coffees, watching him.
‘I’ve been seeing someone.’
I have no idea why I blurt that out.
Dimitrios tilts a brow at me. ‘Aren’t you always?’
I acknowledge his remark with a bland smile. ‘I mean, for a couple of weeks.’
He’s been in a strange mood all morning, dark and heavy without giving me any explanation. He glowers when he responds. ‘That’s practically a lifetime for you.’
‘I’m serious.’ I frown, wondering why I’m pushing this conversation. ‘I mean, it’s not serious or anything.’
‘Obviously.’
I grind my teeth, his bad mood leaching into me.
‘She’s leaving Singapore the day after Christmas, so it’s, you know, temporary.’
‘Plus you have the attention span of a bumblebee so there’s that, too.’
‘Stop,’ I say, more harshly than I intended. I grimace in apology. ‘It’s not like that.’
Dimitrios frowns, as if he’s just starting to realise something more is going on, though God knows what. ‘I thought you’d sworn off relationships after Emily?’
‘I have. I did. This isn’t... God, I don’t know what we’re doing.’ I turn to face him, knowing I need to be honest. With him, myself, and eventually with Jessica. ‘I just know that we agreed we’d do this for two weeks, while she was in Singapore. But she leaves the day after tomorrow and I’m fucked if I know how to say goodbye to her.’
Dimitrios’s eyes narrow thoughtfully and then he nods. ‘So don’t.’
As if it’s that simple.
* * *
I am never going to be able to escape.
I read her text message with a growing sense of frustration. It’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve and she was due at my place hours ago.
What’s going on?
My dad’s playing carols now. Everyone’s singing along.
The image opens something up in my chest. Despite the image she’s painted and the reservations I know she has about her family, that sounds kind of...nice.
It sounds like family and it sounds like why she’s here in Singapore. She came to spend time with them. Not see me. From the beginning, Jessica said this was a distraction and if she’s having fun with her family then I just need to let that be.
