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Chapter 30
Drake
Theceilingofmychildhood bedroom resembled the universe. When I was little, my father had meticulously arranged a moon amongst the stars to reflect the cosmos. At night, it glowed, and as a kid, I was dazzled by the sparkly display when tucked away in bed, like I was looking up at the actual galaxy. My dad, an amateur astronomer, had taught me all about the planets, introducing me to supernovas and black holes. At the time, I hadn’t quite gotten those, but he’d planted a deep fascination for all things cosmic. On occasion, I still flicked through his cosmology books. It kept me close to him.
Why did I have to fuck around in maths? Figures had always come easily to me when I was at school, and my parents were so proud of my high marks. Then, after that accident, life had come tumbling down. I’d lost focus, and chronic sadness had meant I couldn’t even handle my own company.
My mother knocked on my door. “I’ve made you a cup of tea, love.”
“Sure. One minute.”
I forced myself out of bed. Sleep didn’t seem to stop the tiredness. If anything, the more I slept, the more lethargic I felt.
I joined my mother in the kitchen. Despite wearing a worried frown, she gave me an encouraging smile. “Are you going for a run today? Or perhaps you could ring Billy.”
About to push away hair that was no longer there, I rubbed my forehead instead. Strange, it was like those stories I’d heard about people losing limbs and still feeling them. That was how it was with my non-existent hair.
Was that how it was with Manon, seeing as I often woke thinking she was lying next to me?
“I made scones.” My mother laid the tray on the kitchen bench.
“Maybe later.”
She tilted her head. “But they’re nicer warm.”
I sat on the couch with my tea and stared blankly at the game show on television.
My mother sat next to me and placed a plate with scones and jam on the table. “Have you heard from Manon?”
I shook my head. It had been a week since her last text.
Maybe she’d moved on. She had intense needs that, before the dark cloud had swallowed me, I’d been more than happy to serve.
“Do you miss her?” Her tentative tone wasn’t lost on me. My mother knew me. I wasn’t one to talk about feelings. Even after Dad had died, I’d chosen silence over tears.
I heard you yelling in your sleep again, sweetheart.” My mother slanted her head. “Perhaps you should speak to someone.”
“I’m speaking to you.”
Wearing a sympathetic smile, she patted my leg. “I’m here for you. This will always be your home, darling. No matter what. You can be yourself here. If you want to yell, cry, scream, or whatever, I won’t mind.”
My mouth trembled into a smile. “Thanks, Mum.” I sipped my tea. “I’m fine. Just needed some time out.”
She passed me a plate with a buttered scone. “I know, son.”
“We’resounderstaffed.Ican’t tell you how happy I am to have you here,” Carson said.
I scanned the façade of the ornate historic mansion. “This reminds me of Merivale.”
He chuckled. “They all do, these old places.”
Noticing his black suit, I asked, “So, you’re working too?”
He nodded. “I had to. I just don’t have the men.”
I thought of Billy, who I was meeting after my shift for a drink. “I can see if Billy’s interested.”
“He looks tough enough, but he needs training. I can’t have him chatting up women or winking at them.”
