When Dev walked into the pub around lunchtime, Tasha let out a squeal so loud they probably had complaints about it over in Ireland. “Oi, careful.” Mal rubbed his ear on the side nearest to her. “I think I just lost an eardrum.”
Tasha shrugged. “Meh. You got another. Dev! Babe, it’s been so long.”
Dev sauntered over as she slipped out from behind the bar so he could give her a hug, a proper one, her feet off the floor and everything. “Looking good, Tash, looking good.”
“Your hair’s longer. And, ow, your stubble’s got sharper. Oi, lemme go.” They were both grinning wildly.
Mal held back, cos Dev might be his best mate but him and Tash were family. It wasn’t long, though, before Dev let go of his little sis and turned. “Mal, my man. How’s it going? Whoa, check out the pimp cane.” He eyed the walking stick propped up against the bar.
“Up yours, mate. And it will be if you don’t watch out.” They shared a hug that was a lot manlier—no squealing, just bro-type back-slapping—while Tasha ducked back behind the bar and started pouring Dev a Coke.
“Where’s Kyle? You leave him back at the cottage?”
“Nah, we walked down together. He’ll be here in a bit. Wanted to give Zelley a good run around on the beach after all those hours cooped up in the car.”
Huh. Mal kept forgetting some people had pets they could take with them when they went away. “How’s he doing? Now he can’t hear you telling me.”
“He’s good. Seriously. He was pissed off about the meds, but he’s a lot more chill about that sort of stuff than he used to be.” Dev smiled soppily, the big soft git. “So how’s it been with you? Really?”
“Uh, good. Well, you know. Swings and roundabouts . . .” Mal dried up. Which was in direct contrast to his hands, which were sweating harder than an overweight pig that’d taken up marathon running. In Hell. He wiped them on his jeans.
Dev narrowed his eyes. “Come on, then, what you done?”
“Uh . . . We don’t have to get into that now.” Mal crossed his fingers.
“Get into what?” Christ, Dev was like a dog with a boner. Kept humping your leg until he got what he wanted.
“Tell him,” Tash said. Traitor.
Mal sighed. “I met your uncle.”
“That bastard? What did he do to you?”
“No. Not him. Well, yeah, I met him too, but . . . the other one. Jory. He’s younger. And nicer.”
“And?”
Tasha leaned over the bar, eyes bright and her tongue practically hanging out. “And he shagged him, didn’t he?”
Mal groaned. “Cheers, Tash. That’s exactly how I wanted to break it to him.”
Dev stared. “You slept with my uncle? Fuck, bruv, I thought you had some standards.”
“Oi, he’s not like the other one, all right? He’s a good bloke, Jory is.”
“Uh-huh? No offence, but I’m gonna need evidence before I believe that about anyone called Roscarrock.”
“He wants to meet you. Get to know you. And, uh, he’s got a kid. Your cousin.”
Dev’s face had that closed-off expression Mal hadn’t seen for a while. Say, since back when Dev had first met the Roscarrocks. “I got loads of cousins.”
“Yeah, but Gawen’s cool. He’s twelve and he’s really into computer games. Dead bright too.”
“What about his mum?”
“Uh, she’s not so cool. Well, she kinda is, but . . .” Yeah, best not going there. “But they’re divorced. Uh, getting divorced. They’ve been separated since like before he was born.” Mal realised how that might sound to Dev and hurried on. “But Jory didn’t abandon them or nothing. He’s a great dad to Gawen. He’s gonna be a teacher at his school from September.”
“He’s all right, honest,” Tasha put in. “When we was worried about Mal last night, he dropped everything to drive round trying to find him. Despite having reasons not to.” She shot Mal a filthy look which, yeah, he probably deserved.
“Oh yeah? And what was all that about, anyhow?” Dev frowned. “You mean you weren’t joking about having a fall? What you done to yourself?”
“It was only a little one. I’d’ve been fine if the weather hadn’t been so shit.”
“And if you hadn’t been pissed out of your skull,” Tasha put in flatly.
“Cheers, babe.”
“Anytime.”
“Oi, you were out on the piss? On your own?” Dev’s face was darkening in a way that said brace yourself for thunder, lightning, and all four horsemen of the apocalypse.
“I wasn’t on my own!”
Tasha snorted. “Yeah, that was the problem.”
“Was this that Roscarrock bloke?”
“No!”
“That was the problem too.” Tasha made a face. “Him and Jory was on the outs, and this older woman got Mal drunk and took advantage.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Mal protested, cos it really wasn’t fair on Kirsty.
“I tell it like I see it, babe.”
Dev shook his head slowly. “Jesus, you two are doing my head in. Look, just tell me about this bloke. My so-called uncle. Are you and him together or what?”
“Yeah. We sorted it out.” Mal couldn’t help smiling as he thought about Jory.
Dev rolled his eyes. “Right. So now tell me, if he wanted to meet me, how come he never bothered till now?”
“Cos he didn’t know. Swear to God. I didn’t believe it at first, but that brother and sister of his—” Mal realised he was slagging off Dev’s mum and swallowed, but fuck, Dev knew what she was like. “They don’t tell him nothing. And they tried to run his whole life. Treat him like a kid even though he’s in his thirties and he’s got a kid of his own.”
“You can sorta see why they’re all fu—mucked up, though,” Tasha said. “Their dad took a long walk off a short cliff right behind their house.”
Mal shuddered. “Tasha, do something for me, will you? Never volunteer to work for the Samaritans.”
“Fu—stuff you. I’d be brill. And stop changing the subject. You gotta meet him, Dev. Well, you’re gonna anyway, seeing as him and Mal are in lurve.”
“It’s serious, then, you and him?”
Mal shoved his hands in his pockets. “Pretty much. Yeah.”
“So what were you and him on the outs about?”
Aw, fuck. “I told him we couldn’t be together.”
“Because of me?”
“Yeah. No . . . I’ve just been really fucking messed up, you know?”
Dev’s expression went all soppy again, and he gripped Mal’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay, bruv. You got every right to be. But this bloke, he makes you happy, yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah, he does. Still dunno how it’s gonna work, but . . . we’re gonna give it a go.”
Dev sighed, but he was smiling too. “Guess I’ll be seeing him, then. And oi, none of that,” he added when Mal opened his mouth to say No, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. “It’s like, word of mouth, innit?”
“Uh?”
“’S how we get a lot of business down at the garage. People bring their cars in, they’re happy with our work, so they tell their mates. And then they bring their cars in. So, like, this Roscarrock bloke—”
“Jory,” Mal interrupted.
“—Jory, yeah, he’s like the garage.”
“What, and I’m the car he’s serviced? Cheers, bruv.”
Dev laughed. “You know what I mean. He’s given your engine a good seeing to—”
“Seriously, this metaphor needs to die. It needs to die right now—”
“—and now you’re recommending his services to all your mates.”
“Listen, mate, if you even think about asking Jory to have a poke around under your bonnet—”
Kyle turned up at that point, which was just as well. He looked good—tired, but good. Zelley was a chocolate brown shadow at his heels. Mal bent down to make a fuss of her, with a lot of Who’s a gorgeous girl, then? and that sort of thing. Then he grinned up at Kyle. “Oh, you here and all?”
“Good to see you too,” Kyle said easily. “How have you been, Mal?”
Dev shouldered in as Mal straightened to give Kyle a welcoming hug. “That’s Uncle Mal to you and me now.”
“Have I missed something?” Kyle had his lawyer-look on his face.
“Just a bit,” Tasha said, and cackled.
Mal threw up his hands. “Jeez, I can’t face going through that again. Imma go pee. I may be some time.”
“Don’t worry, babe, we’ll fill him in with all the juicy details,” Tasha called after him, as Mal scarpered up the stairs as quick as he could.
After he’d visited the bathroom—he really had needed a pee—Mal escaped into his room and sat down on the bed. He needed a bit of space. Everything had gone good, and now . . . Now he wanted to sit quietly for a mo and try not to think about how badly it could all have gone.
Dev wasn’t pissed off about it. He was going to give Jory a chance.
And Jory was going to give Mal another chance. Despite all the fuckups, all the stupid crappy things he’d done, Jory was giving him another chance.
Mal let himself fall back on the bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling. He wondered what Jory was doing.
Then he realised he could just bloody well ask him, grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and sent a quick text: U there?
The answer took a little while to come through. Where else would I be?
Mal smiled. Dev here. Up 4 seeing u.
Waiting for a text to buzz through, Mal almost dropped the phone when Jory rang him instead. “Yo?” Mal’s voice didn’t shake, he was proud of that, but his heart was pounding in his rib cage as if it wanted to come out and play.
“Hi.” Jory’s voice on the other end was like the perfect mug of hot chocolate, all warm, rich, and comforting.
“Hey.”
“So you persuaded him? I’m . . . I don’t know what to say. But thank you.”
“Tash helped. And he said if I like you, that’s good enough for him. Only, uh, he said it with metaphors.”
“Well, as long as it wasn’t similes.”
“Poncy overeducated git.” Mal paused. “Uh, don’t take that the wrong way.”
Jory chuckled. Over the phone, it sounded all breathy and did weird things to Mal’s insides. And other bits. “There’s a right way?”
“Duh. There’s always a right way and a wrong way.”
“So what would be the right way?” Jory’s voice was all teasing.
Mal swallowed. “Uh, just to be clear, are we talking about Dev or are we having phone sex?”
“Now that you’ve brought up my nephew, I think I can categorically say we’re not having phone sex.”
“Well, shit. Um. So, I haven’t, like, made any arrangements, but are you free tomorrow?”
“Would that be for meeting Dev or for phone sex?” The teasing tone was back.
Mal was torn. “You’re a lot pervier over the phone, you know that?”
Jory laughed. “That’s because you can’t see me turning red.”
“Oh yeah? How far down does it go?”
“You want me to check for you?”
Mal was going to say Yeah, baby in a low, growly voice. Somehow what came out was totally different and all high-pitched and squeaky. “I really fucking wish you were here.”
There was a silence that lasted just long enough for Mal to start to panic. Then: “Me too. Funny how far a mile or so can seem. I mean, it’s not much further than my walk to work, but . . .”
“Yeah.”
“I could come down, but I’m guessing that wouldn’t be the best idea?”
Mal tried his hardest to convince himself that Jory coming down to the pub would be the best idea ever, but . . . “Nah. Give Dev a chance to settle in. Get ready for it. But tomorrow, for defs.”
Mal had planned to give it half an hour and then go back down, but Tasha came up to find him before he got that far. She poked her head around the door with her eyes shut. “Babe? You having a wank?”
Mal moaned loudly. “Oh yeah, that’s it, shit, gonna come so hard . . .”
Her eyes flew open. Mal grinned at her from where he was sitting on the bed, fully clothed. Not wanking, cos he wasn’t daft. He’d have locked the door for that. “Made you look.”
Tasha stuck up her finger. “I knew you weren’t really. Wanker. Are you ever coming down again? Cos I ain’t bringing your lunch up here.”
“Yeah, I’m on my way. I just needed to chill for a bit, you know? You said lunch, right?” He batted his eyes up at Tasha hopefully.
“Ready and waiting. Emphasis on waiting, so get your arse in gear, yeah?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
“That’s what you said before, and I didn’t believe you then either.” Tasha cackled and disappeared.
Mal heaved himself off his bed and plodded down the stairs. His ankle hardly hurt at all now, and the swelling had gone down. Which was good, obviously, but it made him feel even more embarrassed over last night’s little adventure. He patted his thigh and, ow, yeah, the bruise was still reassuringly painful. He hadn’t been a total crybaby over nothing.
Dev and Kyle were sitting at a side table in the bar, already tucking in to a couple of ploughman’s lunches. Mal slid into the empty seat where his own lunch was laid out. “It’s all right. You didn’t have to wait,” he said to be a git.
“Nah, we knew you’d only feel bad about it,” Dev said with his mouth full. “You eating that cucumber?”
“Nope.” Mal scooped the four or five slices up onto his knife and dumped them on Dev’s plate, taking a pickled onion in trade. Kyle would thank him for it later. “So what’s the plan for today?”
“Settle in, laze about a bit, hope the weather picks up. You?”
“Not really got any plans.”
“Aintcha seeing that bloke of yours, then?”
“Well . . . I saw him this morning. Thought I’d spend the day with you two, since it’s been so bloody long.”
“Yeah, that’s cool. Can’t promise we ain’t both gonna fall asleep on the sofa, mind.”
“No worries. I’ll bring my Sharpie.”
Dev laughed. “Oi, Kyle’s the only one allowed to put a dick on my face.”
Tasha, who’d been clearing the next table, made a gagging sound. “Jeez, Dev, you just had to go there, didn’t you?”
They all laughed, and then Dev asked out of the blue, “So how are you doing now, about the whole one-under thing?”
Mal choked on his pickled onion.
Kyle patted him on the back, frowning at Dev. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“What, so I’m not allowed to mention the Elephant and Castle in the room?” Dev’s tone was light, but he gave Mal a searching look.
Mal held up his finger and swivelled it for good measure until he could speak. “Prick. It happened at Kennington, and you know it.” He took a swig of Coke and almost managed to choke on that. “It’s . . . a work in progress.”
Dev nodded. “You ever want to talk or anything . . .” He leaned over and grasped Mal’s arm. “’M here for you, bruv.”
“Yeah. Cheers.” That coughing fit had left his throat all tight. Mal took another swig of Coke to cover it.
After they’d eaten, they took Zelley down to the beach at Mother Ivey’s Bay. With the skies still grey and threatening more rain, there weren’t many people there and definitely no eye candy. A few families were making the best of it, the tots dressed in shorts and anoraks building sandcastles while Mum and Dad huddled together with a flask of tea. It was a real 1950s moment. Well, if you ignored Mum’s ebook and Dad’s smartphone.
While Dev threw a ball for the dog, Mal and Kyle sat down on the sand. It was cold under their bums, and Mal found himself envying the families—a cup of tea would’ve gone down a treat right now.
Mal cleared his throat. “So, uh, I guess you heard all about me and Jory, yeah?”
Kyle nodded. “I can’t say I’ve had anything but bad experiences with that family, but I’m willing to keep an open mind. How did you meet him?”
“Local museum. He’s gonna be a secondary schoolteacher in September, but he’s working there for now.” Mal smiled, remembering. “He ain’t like his brother and sister. They’re all about business and money and keeping up appearances, bollocks like that. But Jory’s into learning stuff and passing it on.”
“He’s younger than them?”
“That you asking me if he’s a dirty old man? Yeah, I think they were nine or ten when he was born. So he’s less older than me than you are than Dev. Uh, if that makes sense.” He thought about it. “Huh. I could just’ve said he’s not as old as you.”
“Thanks. Now I feel like a dirty old man.”
“Anytime, mate.”
“So you’ve been going out with him for a while, then?”
“Uh, well. Um. Not exactly. I mean, we’ve been out together a few times, but . . . it’s complicated.”
Kyle frowned. “Oh? I must’ve misunderstood. I thought from what Dev said that it was a serious thing.”
Oh, fuck a duck. “It is, but . . . Fuck it, I really like him, but I’m shit scared it’s not gonna work out. Christ, this is the worst possible time for me to meet someone. My head’s still all fucked up.”
Kyle gave him a look that said I am older and wiser than you. Mal would’ve been well pissed off by it if the subtext, which came across loud and clear, hadn’t been I’ve fucked my life up more times than you’ve had hot dinners. “I understand your worries. Believe me. But things don’t always happen at exactly the right time—and if you wait for it to be the right time, you could end up missing out altogether. Do you want to take that chance?”
“No.” Mal took a deep breath. “It’s fucking terrifying, though, you know?”
“Believe me, I know.”
“How’s it been for you?” Mal blurted it out. “I mean, yeah, you had this high-flying legal career, didn’t you—”
“Not that high-flying.”
“But still, you had to, well, change your ideas about what you were gonna do with your life. When you got ill.”
Kyle stared out to sea for a moment. “I’m not going to tell you it’s easy,” he said at last. “There’s always the worry . . . People who don’t understand what you’re dealing with can be . . .” He sighed. “Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not trying hard enough. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“What if it’s me thinking it?”
“Well, that’s harder to deal with. But you just have to be honest with yourself. About what you really want, and what you can actually do. About whether your career is really worth the sacrifices you’ll have to make for it.” Kyle shrugged. “I don’t know if that helps at all.”
Mal nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it helps. Cheers, mate.” He clapped Kyle on the shoulder and jumped up. “Wanna skim stones?”