Page 30 of Tears of Ink

Abi rolls her eyes and glares at me. “You see how rock-and-roll my life is, Faith? Bloody school uniform washing is all I have to get excited for at the weekend.”

I laugh and shake my head. These two, they are so damn loved up, so bloody perfect. I don’t understand how they met so young and made it work. While I fell apart, they found everything. I’m happy for them. I could never be that settled. Inside me, the twisted memories I run from won’t ever let me have anything like what they maintain together.

Adam lifts her arms over his head and comes over to where I’m sitting, lifting the sleeping mop-haired angel out of my arms.

I stand unwillingly, my legs moving as if they are wading through sea water thick with seaweed. Why don’t I want to see Al? He’s been my stabilising force my entire life.

I know why. It’s because I’m scared of saying goodbye.

Abi gives me a sympathetic smile and holds out her hand. “Come on, Faith.”

The house is in darkness. The flicker of a television screen flashing through the net curtains the only indication someone is home. I knock hesitantly. This is all so foreign. Al used to work all hours, his shop a hive of activity, sometimes until the early hours of the morning. Sometimes all night if his customer could withstand the pain for that long. Now he’s in bed? I should have called—announced my intended visit.

The door opens a crack, and I hold in a gasp as Dan peeks his head through the gap. God, he looks so tired. Worn and faded like a pair of much-loved jeans. “Faith?”

“Hey, Dan.”

He opens the door and steps forward, grabbing me tight. As close to me as any brother could be, we’ve grown up side-by-side. His smell washes over me. Strong soap and his hair wax mingle, pulling memories from deep within me.

The scruff on his cheeks scratches my face and his lips brush mine. A simple welcome. “What are you doing here?” He pushes a hand though his hair, making it stand in a tousled mess. My mind slips to a buzz cut and long fingers scratching through dark hair.

I nod my head behind me. “I came to check on this loser. Thought I’d better stop in and check on the other loser in my life.” I grin, but the stretch of my lips is like a dam holding back a torrent of water.

He steps back and makes room for us to enter. Abi slips through after me, closing the door behind her.

The lounge is in darkness. Scattered cans and pizza boxes decorate the coffee table top and some of the floor.

“Keeping the place nice, Dan.” I smile up at him and lean down to switch on a lamp. I kind of wish I hadn’t as the light illuminates the mess some more.

“Shut your face, Hitchin.” He grins though and leans in, wrapping his arms around me in a giant squeeze. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” I talk into his neck, and random tears threaten to spill. Once Dan could have been so much more than a lifelong friend. We were on the cusp of experimenting with new emotions and sensations when everything was destroyed.

I love him, though. But much to Al’s disappointment, I know the love will never be enough. Not for Dan. He deserves more.

“Want a beer?” He asks, turning for the kitchen. I follow him while Abi hangs behind, giving us some space.

“Yeah, thanks.” I slip my hands into the pockets of my denim shorts and lean a hip against the counter. The kitchen is cleaner than the lounge, but I’m not surprised. Clearly, food comes out of cardboard delivery boxes.

He hands me an open bottle and we click the necks together. “How are you?” I rest my eyes on his face before giving him a full body sweep.

Despite the tiredness smudging soft lines into his face, his body is still impressive. Smooth round muscles covered in ink. His T-shirt is tight, stretched across well-developed pecs.

“I’m okay. It’s good to see you.” He smiles and pushes his sandy hair out of his face. “I thought you were never going to come back.”

“It’s only for the day.”

He frowns. “It must be nearly the summer holiday. Aren’t you coming home?”

I shake my head. “You know I can’t, Dan. I don’t want to see Dad. We have nothing to say to one another. And I don’t want to see…” I trail off. I can’t say the name. “I don’t want to be gossiped about.”

“It’s Brighton, it’s full of gossiping queens.” He pulls the face he always pulls when he thinks I’m being ridiculous. It’s all doh mixed with a bit of duh.

I grin. Sometimes I miss the sheer cattiness of the homosexual community. In London, everything is more proper, and diluted into the vast population.

“Anyway.” I change the subject from myself. “How’s Al?”

Dan’s face freezes for a moment before his lips curve into a smile that’s too small to mean anything. “Okay.”