Page 9 of In at the Deep End

On it sat his folders containing everything related to his dissertation. He’d met with his tutor before leaving Edinburgh, and so far, so good.

Matt glanced through the window down into the garden. The pool whispered to him, and he did his best to ignore it. He loved the summer, days of lying out in the sun—when it bothered to show up—swimming, chilling…

This summer would be different.

He wasn’t going to work all the hours God sent, but there was already a calendar pinned to the wall above his desk, with red circles indicating deadlines and calls to be made. Work wasn’t the issue, however. He was used to deadlines, to getting his head down and concentrating.

The issue would be finding somewhere quiet to concentrate when his brother and sister descended the way they did every summer. The bad idea? Leaving Edinburgh early and thinking he’d find a workspace at home.

Maybe I should just decamp to the public library.

Except the times he’d done that during holidays, he’d discovered libraries were not quiet and the lure of books was impossible to ignore.

“Don’t you think it’s time you replaced some of these posters?”

Matt jumped, then gave Dad a glare. “Do parents get taught how to sneak up on their kids? You must’ve been top of your class.” Then his words hit home. “Are you kidding? These films are classics.” The posters were displayed behind glass, safe from fingers. Their DVDs were on the shelf, along with countless books related to film lore and history.

Dad smirked. “If you say so. Give me a film full of car chases and people blowing things up any day.” He looked around the room. “You know, most people your age have football shirts on their walls.”

Matt glanced at the framed posters. “Most people my age haven’t spent a year or nearly two writing about British cinema.”

“Don’t remind me.” Dad groaned. “If I hear the phrase post-war masculinity one more time…”

Matt grinned. “Masculinity in post-war British cinema, to be precise.”

“See? You corrected me. That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

He laughed. “Films tell you what every generation thought men were supposed to be.”

Dad blinked. “I just watched The Italian Job because the Mini Coopers were cool.” He peered closely at Matt. “Sometimes I’m not sure you’re really my son. I think someone swapped you in the hospital.” He grinned, then glanced at the room with a sigh. “I also think you need a clear-out.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I’ve been home for less than forty-eight hours. I thought I’d have at least a week before you came up with that line.” He gestured to the shelves. “They’re research.”

“I know, I know, the dissertation.” Dad went over to the bed, moved a pile of folded clothing aside, and sat down. “I might have found you a job for the summer.”

Matt’s stomach tightened a little. “We’ve talked about this. I don’t want to go into London with you and work in your office. I couldn’t think of anything worse. No offence, Dad. I know this is what you do, but I’m not you.”

Dad bit his lip. “Yeah, I had noticed. And no, I wasn’t about to suggest it again. Once was enough.” He got up and wandered over to the window. “We’ve got a new neighbour.”

Matt blinked at the randomness of the remark. “I heard the vans. Mum said she’d sent you over with food to do the good neighbour bit.”

Dad nodded. “And then I got the shock of my life.”

He grinned. “What—even bigger than when Mum announced she was expecting me?” He’d heard that story all his life.

“You’ve listened to my tales of university, right?”

Matt coughed. “Listened might be too strong a word. I took some of them in by osmosis over the years.” Dad gave a dramatic gasp, and he snorted. “Oh, come on. You got up to a ton of shit at uni, which you never tire of talking about.”

“Well, search through your data banks. Does the name Owen Lane ring a bell?”

He thought for maybe a second. “Your best friend?”

Another nod. Then Dad grinned and pointed towards the newly occupied house.

Matt gaped. “No way. Seriously?”

Dad gave a gleeful smile. “I couldn’t believe it. But this is where you come in. Owen needs someone to maintain the pool, look after the garden…. And I thought of you.”