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Another pause. “What the hell is this, Jess?”
“Look… I said I’d tell you, and I will. Just not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I just wanna get settled in. See if it’s what I really want.”
“If you’ve moved in, I’d say you’re pretty committed, little bro.”
Jesse bit back a curse. “Can you just trust me for once? Please?”
“I’m trying, Jess. But this is your last shot, understand? If you’re up to something dodge and you’re not telling me…”
“Can I still take Olly tomorrow or what?”
A moody silence fell. Jesse could hear Sareena in the background. Anton answered in a mutter then came back on. “Yes, you can take Oliver, but just to the Christmas markets, you hear? No jaunts to the seaside or taking him to your new mystery job or anything.”
“I promised him the markets,” Jesse insisted. “We’re going to the markets.”
“Good. ’Cause he’s really looking forward to it.”
Despite everything, Jesse’s heart warmed. “I’ll pick him up at ten.”
“Great.” Anton took a moment, and when he spoke, Jesse could hear him making the effort to sound friendly. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Jess. Take care, hear?”
Jesse stared at his phone for a long time after Anton hung up. Fatigue was dragging at him, but he took a breath and booted up his deep search application. The only new hit was another article on a national news website about Magnusson’s Christmas lights. There was one paragraph about the installation and three more about Oswald House’s proximity to the city. The language was careful, but it cited a much-quoted interview with the head of Askham Moor Primary School, in which she discussed the number of parents who had withdrawn their children since Magnusson had taken up residence nearby.
Parents are scared. And you can understand why. Questions have been raised with our Representative to the Assembly for Haemophile Affairs, but local feeling is very much that basic safety concerns are being overlooked in favor of politically motivated international issues.
Jesse shut the article down. He rubbed his mouth, drained the beer then added another subroutine to the search.
Adding term‘Ivor, Harrison & Associates’…
He hesitated with his finger hovering over the Enter key. He clicked it and shut the monitor down.
* * * *
“Uncle Jesse!” Oliver barreled into Jesse’s legs and wrapped his arms around his waist.
“Oof… Easy, mate,” Jesse said, rubbing his gloved hand over Oliver’s tousled hair. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah.” Oliver grinned, accepting his backpack and bobble-hat from Sareena. Anton stood with his hand around her waist and studied Jesse.
“Looking good, Jess. New coat?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said, sticking his hands in the pockets of the black wool overcoat from Oswald House. “Nice, huh?”
“Yeah, it is. New shoes, too?”
“New everything,” Jesse said, helping Oliver into his backpack. “Got a job, don’t I?”
“That’s wonderful, Jesse,” Sareena beamed. “I’m so pleased for you.”
“I’ll be more pleased when you can tell me who you’re working for,” Anton said, ignoring Sareena’s disapproving frown.
“And I told you,” Jesse said with measured patience, “I will.”
“Come on, Uncle Jesse,” Oliver said, tugging on his hand. “What if they run out of hot waffles?”
