Jason only quits smiling when he next checks in on Chantel. At least she’s finished most of her first mug of tea, and her hands have stopped shaking, but they still feel cool and clammy when he passes her a fresh mug.

“You should get out of those wet clothes.”

Chantel shakes her head. “I’ll be okay for a bit longer. You go ahead, though.” She glances in his direction, gaze slowly rising up the mud-caked legs of his new jeans. “Wow. Throw everything in the washer right away, especially your shirt. The mud will—”

“Stain anything this pale,” he finishes for her. “Mum bollocked us all the time for letting mud dry until it was too late.”

Her eyes rise even higher. “You got it all over your face too.”

“I’m not the only one.” She really is plastered.

“I needn’t have spent so long doing my make-up this morning, trying to impress you. I even bought a new blouse.” Her smile is small and tentative. “Go on. Go and help yourself to something of Andrew’s—” She halts abruptly and frantically pats her pockets as if searching for something. “Where’s my phone? Oh, no. I left it in the paddock.”

“It’s okay. I picked yours up when I went back for my own. And I called Andrew from the house phone. He’s on his way home already.”

Chantel’s relief is visible. Her eyes close, and when they reopen, he notices they’re shiny before she ducks her head to hide them. Maybe leaving her alone for a few minutes is a good plan, only she gets to her feet before he can move, her hug a tight surprise he’s not expecting. “Thank you.” She clings, her voice a choked whisper. “I meant what I said before. Thank God you got here when you did.”

“You would have been okay.” His voice is equally affected. “You had it all under control.” He rubs her narrow back in reassurance. “You did exactly the right thing calling the vet so quickly and then staying with her.”

“Only because I had my phone on me, for once. I don’t usually bring it down to the stables, but I didn’t want to miss it if you texted. I was really hoping you would cancel.” She pulls back, stricken. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Oh, yes.” Jason can’t hold in a snort of laughter. Her face is a mud-stained picture he can’t help liking much more than any of the photos Andrew showed him. His stomach loudly rumbles like it agrees with his new judgment.

“Oh my God, and I haven’t even given you lunch.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No. I decided that if you came, I was really going to give it my best shot, even if you’ve—” She presses her lips together.

“Even if I’ve what?”

“It’s nothing.” She shakes her head.

“Even if I’ve been a shit about the wedding?”

She nods. “I don’t care about me, but you have been a bit of a shit to Andrew.” The horse whickers behind them like she agrees too. Chantel sets her shoulders and lifts her chin. “But we really should talk about the wedding.”

“We will talk. But first I’m going to get us something to eat. Let me grab something dry for you to change into here, if you don’t want to leave her just yet.”

Chantel nods. “Okay. That would actually be wonderful.” She sits again and leans against her mare. “You’ll find plenty in our bedroom. It’s the second door on the left when you get upstair—”

“I know where it is.”

“Of course.” She keeps her gaze on her horse rather than on him. “Of course you do. I’m sorry. It’s just….”

It’s just that Jason hasn’t visited once since she moved in.

So what if he lived here for years? She hadn’t been around to know that. Hell, she hadn’t even been born then. She couldn’t have known that she just gave him directions to the room that had been his foster mother’s, just like she couldn’t have known much about the last wife Andrew moved in.

Anger at what seemed like a guaranteed repeat of the past seemed justified while in London. Down here though, in front of a girl who shivers but refuses to give up on her horse or on his brother, all he feels is shame for his knee-jerk reaction. “Don’t worry about it. Let me go grab your stuff,” he offers. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Jason jogs back to the house, this time stripping off in the boot room and washing away the worst of the mud at the sink there. He scrubs his face and hands until the water runs clear and then avoids the muddy footprints he already created in the kitchen to make his way upstairs.

It’s strange to rummage through an old oak dresser that’s so familiar, weirder still to pull out clothes that belong to a much younger woman than its original owner. He finds joggers and a T-shirt to borrow in Andrew’s section of their wardrobe.

When he comes downstairs, the kitchen still stinks of whatever boiled dry, so he throws open the windows and then searches through the cupboards. The canned soup he finds will be perfect to cure her shivers. He nukes it, adding a splash of cream before taking it along with some dry clothes back to the stables. She accepts the mug he offers, sniffing before taking a tentative swallow.

“Oh!” Her pleasure rings as true as the bell at the front door. “This turned out really well! What a relief!” She takes another huge gulp and adds, “Andrew begged me not to cook for you.”

Jason asks, “Why not?” rather than admit he’s ditched the soup she prepared.

It’s Andrew who answers.

“Because she’s the worst cook on the planet. Even worse than Mum was.” He crouches to hug his fiancée before glancing up at Jason. “And while I might have had plenty of reasons to kill you lately, I do still actually want you at our wedding.”

“Couldn’t keep me away,” Jason says, and for the first time, he means it.

* * *

It’s a half hour later before Jason thinks to ask Andrew, “How the hell did you get here so fast from town?” Even without factoring in the time it took to cross the city, the fastest train to Moreton-in-Marsh takes a couple of hours at least.

Andrew tightens his grip on Chantel’s shoulder before he answers. “I wasn’t in town.” He looks anywhere but at Jason when he adds, “I came from Cheltenham.”

Chantel’s recoil is sudden. “Oh my God. Your interview!” She cups Andrew’s face with dirty palms. “Please tell me you didn’t leave it halfway through on my account. Not after you worked so hard to get it.”

A job interview?

This is the first Jason’s heard about it.

And in Cheltenham? That’s in the opposite direction to London, only thirty minutes or so by car from here. He bites his tongue instead of asking what the hell Andrew’s thinking when he loves London so much. His surprise has to take a backseat when Andrew hugs his fiancée, cradling the back of her head like she’s something precious.

Jason should have seen this coming.

Of course Andrew wants to live here full-time.

He excuses himself with a quiet, “I’ll be right back,” and walks blindly back to the house. The washer is only midway through its cycle, suds still a little grimy when he wants nothing more in that moment than to pull them out of the machine and leave.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Forget to ask, Vanya texts. Did girlfriend like new clothes?

He replies shortly while his thoughts churn like his laundry.

Yes.

Then he texts some more before he can think too hard about it.

Andrew wants to leave London. He’s going to move down here full-time.

Vanya’s next text takes longer to arrive. Jason’s moved from boot room to the kitchen when its ping sounds.

A sad emoji appears first followed by Would be saddest if Kaspar went back to Estonia.

Jason sits down hard at the kitchen table and quickly dials. He says, “You get it, don’t you?” when Vanya picks up.

“Yes.” His compassion sounds entirely genuine. “Cannot even imagine. Would be the worst if Kaspar left, even for happy reason.”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m would have to try.”

This time Jason simply nods, like Vanya can see him.

“Is okay to be sad. Is not just brother for you. Is best friend. Spend all free time together. Is another….”

“Adjustment.” Jason lets out a sigh. “I know. I’m being stupid.”

“No. Being honest. Is very different.” Vanya pauses for a long moment, the line silent between them apart from his quiet breathing, but Jason doesn’t feel any need to fill it. Instead he nods when Vanya eventually says, “I’m find change hard too, but is possible my change will work out. Kaspar is still best friend. Still want happiness for him. So wishing girlfriend gone is pointless.”

“I don’t want Chantel gone.” Jason doesn’t, not exactly. Not now he’s met her. “It’s just….”

“Is adjustment, like I’m say. Maybe she will become friend too.”

Jason doesn’t know how to answer. The reality of Chantel doesn’t neatly fit his mental picture. Vanya asks another question.

“Brother was married before, yes?”

“Yes, twice. Jesus, the last one was a shocker. We were lucky to keep this place after she took him to the cleaners.”

“So this has to be hard.” Vanya’s voice is soft. “See marriages go wrong. Remember worst times. Worry they will happen again.”

A sound from the boot room stops Jason from answering. Andrew stands in the doorway. “Sorry. I didn’t realise right away that you were taking a call. Don’t finish on my account. We can talk later.”

“No.” Jason follows Vanya’s advice. “I can talk right now.”

“Good start.” Vanya encourages in his ear.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Very good. Now, keep going. Keep talking is best.”

“I will,” Jason promises, along with one last, “Thanks again,” before ending the call.

Keeping going turns out to be much harder in person, especially when Andrew parrots his own words back to Jason.

“The last one was a shocker”—Andrew’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes—“who took me to the cleaners.” He holds the back of a kitchen chair rather than sit down, colour leaching from his knuckles, only it isn’t anger that has him holding on so tightly. “I thought we already put all this to bed.” Sadness leaves him sounding hollow. “I thought meeting Chantel might finally help you see.” He shakes his head when Jason tries to speak. “No, no. I get it. You think she’s far too young for me, and I’m an idiot for putting a ring on it when I could be shagging around on Tinder. Only she’s in the stable right now, singing your praises like you’re some kind of hero. She likes you already, but you’re never going to stop expecting the worst, are you?”

“Listen—”

Andrew shakes his head. “She’s only known you for a couple of hours, and already she thinks you’re something special, but then I overhear—”

“You just overheard me telling someone how much I don’t want a repeat of the past. Who would? What you didn’t hear was me telling him how much I want you to be happy or how she’s nothing like I expected.” Jason stands, not knowing what to do next. This is nothing like his day-to-day work where plans have clear-cut outcomes. The last couple of weeks have him seriously off balance. “I only called him in the first place to say that I’m going to miss you when you move down here full-time.”

“Miss me?” Andrew’s grip on the chair loosens. “Mate….”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your job interview?”

“I wasn’t sure I’d get it.”

“But you did?”

“They made an offer.” He’s awkward for a second before he rallies. “When you say that Chantel’s nothing like you expected? Do you mean that in a good way?”

“Yes.”

Andrew knows him well enough to hear the truth in that simple statement. Relief makes him nosy. “Who were you talking to about us?”

“No one.”

“Because you talk about your feelings with just anyone?” He rounds the table to fake a punch to Jason’s shoulder that slides into a tight, one-armed hug. His next question is just as playful. “Have you been keeping secrets as well?”

“Maybe one.” Jason studies the kitchen table where a couple of pottery coasters sit, ugly and imperfect—two of their mum’s greatest treasures. He tallies the years since he and Andrew made them—far too many to let secrets come between them. “He’s called Vanya.”

“And he’s someone you’ve seen more than once?” Andrew sits when Jason nods. “Wow,” he teases. “Better be careful. If anyone finds out your one-and-done days are over you’ll get banned from Grindr. I thought you always said relationships were for suckers.” His tone gentles. “At least that’s what you said since you and Garry split up. But if that’s changed, I’m pleased for you. Truly. It’s about time you got over how badly that wanker strung you along. You deserve a decent boyfriend.”

“He’s not a boyfriend….” What he has with Vanya is still vague beyond a definite desire to keep connecting with him. “And I got over Garry a long time ago.”

Andrew’s disbelieving. “If you say so.” Then his gaze turns frankly hopeful. “But I’m glad you finally rethought your stance on dating.”

“I might have to rethink my stance on age gaps as well,” Jason admits.

Andrew bursts out laughing.