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“And you can’t fix this.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”
“Quitter.”
“Hamish.”
“Well, at least I didn’t call you a plonker.”
33: Annoyingly Alive
“Taylor, darling. How nice to hear from you.”
Damon thumped the table. He shook his head.
“No, no, he’s not.” Mum’s voice faltered. He made a throat-cutting gesture, knowing she’d be looking at him. “Still travelling, yes.” She couldn’t lie to save her life and Taylor would hear it. “What about your news? Do you have any news, darling?”
God, Mum was hopeless. He stood up and moved across to the wall where the phone was, all the better to menace her.
“Oh, that’s nice. You are? Really. I don’t think,” then in a whisper, “She’s down the road, Taylor and Jamie, they’re here,” back to her normal voice. “I’ll put the kettle on then.”
He’d have to hide.
That was ridiculous.
Taylor and Jamie.
The phone went in its cradle. The stove was lit. The kettle went on. He stood in the middle of the kitchen like a big dumb tree.
“You’ve got about ten minutes to decide what you’re going to do.”
He went to the sink, took a glass out of the dish drainer and filled it with water.
“I’m not lying for you to their faces.”
He drank the water.
“If you don’t have a voice, well, you don’t have a voice. A month after your all-clear is long enough to be hiding out.”
He banged the glass on the draining board. He wasn’t hiding out. He was resting, recovering, and it was easier to do that when there weren’t a lot of other people around to tempt him to talk.
He was completely freaked out.
“Yes, I know you’re not happy about visitors, but what did you expect? You had to know one of them would find you out eventually.”
He listened for their car. There was still time to… He was so totally hiding.
“There’s no reason for you to be here anymore. I love you, but honestly, Damon, your father and I, we’ve talked about it and I’m kicking you out. It’s time for you to go home to the city, back to your friends. You want a dog. I know you do. Well, you need a voice to have a guide dog, so work out what kind of voice you’ve got left and get a damn dog already.”
He’d have laughed if he remembered how to make the sound. He sat at the table.
“All right then,” Mum said, as if that was a decision made. She opened cupboard doors and clinked cups and saucers. She rattled a tin of shortbread, he could smell the sugar. “That’s their car on the drive.”
He heard it. Not Taylor’s, a bigger engine. Jamie was driving. The kettle whistled. Car doors, two. The screen door squeaked. Hugs and kisses. Something brought for Mum that they shouldn’t have. Whispering he couldn’t hear. The quickest ever briefing, they’d know the basics. Feet trooping up the hall and then he was surrounded. No way out.
“Fancy that, Jamie. Damon must be home from London.” Taylor clamped a hand on his shoulder, fingers dug in meanly. She kissed his temple, but she was mad as a wasp stuck in a lace curtain.
“Big surprise,” said Jamie. He pulled up a chair and sat at the table.
