Wesley listened to the washing machine whirring in the kitchen, the bag of dirty laundry Jordan had produced as soon as they got home the surest sign of all that things between them were changing.
Sitting and squabbling over pizza together felt like being a family again, until he realised there was no again. They had never felt like a family. A unit. Anything whole. This might have been the closest they had ever managed.
There weren’t enough seats for everybody in the front room. Wesley was on the floor while Mum and Dave sat wedged together on the sofa, Evie balanced between their laps. The armchair was taken by Jordan, separating him from the others, but he leaned over the arm while he told his story as if trying to be as close to them as he could.
‘There was this guy in my hostel in Darwin who believed crocodiles are a hoax. Like, actually believed these five-metre killing machines were made up by the Australian government to attract tourists.’ Jordan took a bite of pizza, cheese sticking between his teeth. ‘So a bunch of us decided to take him out and prove him wrong.’
Dave covered Evie’s ears, predicting the story was going nowhere good.
‘We drive him to this billabong in the outback which is famous for having loads of crocs, so of course when we turn up there isn’t one in sight. This guy starts ranting about how we’re gullible idiots, how we’ve fallen for “fake news crocodiles”, and he goes and stands right at the edge of the water.’
Wesley had never left the south of England, but even he knew that was a bad idea.
‘Bear in mind they tell you never to go within five metres of any water like that because crocs can jump their body length. And I swear,’ said Jordan, almost certainly meaning it was made up, ‘this guy pulls down his pants and starts mooning the water.’
Everybody but Evie, ears still covered, had stopped eating, waiting rapt for what happened next. Wesley was no exception. He couldn’t deny his brother’s natural charisma, his ability to fit in and belong wherever in the world he put himself.
‘He’s shouting “come and get me, crocodiles!” and waving his pale arse, when all of a sudden there’s this ROAR from the water and a crocodile the length of a car comes snapping at him.’
Mum jumped enough to send a piece of pepperoni flying across the room.
‘Jeff!’ called Evie.
‘Was he okay?’
‘Oh yeah, he was fine, the croc missed him.’ Jordan leaned back in his seat. ‘Except he literally shat himself.’
Everybody groaned.
‘You were in Australia for almost two years,’ said Mum, wagging what remained of her pizza slice. ‘And that’s the story you choose to tell us.’
‘And over dinner,’ added Dave.
‘And that definitely, actually happened,’ finished Wesley.
Jordan regarded him levelly. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t believe in crocodiles either, bro?’
Wesley took a bite of pizza and stayed silent. It shouldn’t be so easy for Jordan to come back into their lives. If anybody was paying attention, they would see he hadn’t really changed, that he was just doing what he could to be accepted. If they let him, he would only do more damage, unravel everything they had achieved without him.
‘So that’s your best memory of Australia, is it?’ he said. ‘Nearly getting a guy eaten alive?’
Jordan’s satisfied smile faltered. ‘He was probably more alive in that moment than you’ve ever been, little bro.’
Nobody else seemed to acknowledge the barbed comment, reaching instead for the last few slices of pizza.
‘Thanks for the food,’ said Jordan, smiling broadly – too broadly – at Dave. The pact to never get friendly with any of Mum’s boyfriends was well and truly broken. Jordan wouldn’t do that without an ulterior motive.
‘Pizza,’ whispered Evie to nobody in particular.
Mum finished her slice, shifted Evie off her lap, and sat forwards. ‘We need to talk to you about something.’
Wesley knew what would happen from there. They would agree to move into Dave’s house, all of them, and Jordan would take his place, pushing him to the outside like always. The last year or more would no longer matter – if it ever had. Wesley would lose the last place he thought he belonged.
He glanced at the front door, where Dave’s leather jacket was hanging. There was still a chance he could belong somewhere else. Everybody needs something to live for.
Pizza turned out to be the perfect accomplice, sending everybody to bed early to sleep it off. Wesley would have hours to claim the keys. Just as soon as he got Jordan out of the flat.
‘Where are you staying?’ asked Mum.
‘Just with a mate,’ said Jordan, putting on his shoes a little more slowly than seemed necessary.
A hesitation, Mum looking to Dave for encouragement before she spoke again. ‘You can stay here tonight. If you want?’
Jordan smiled and nodded, and looked immediately to Wesley with a smile that spoke of triumph. Wesley glowered in return, betrayal sizzling in his belly.
‘Night, bro,’ Jordan said, as Wesley carried their sister to the bedroom.
Sleep didn’t even seem like an option, and when his phone told him it was just after one a.m. he threw back the covers. Evie always slept like a brick, but he had already swept the floor clear of her toys and paints just in case he trod on anything to alert her. He eased the door open and peered out into the dark hallway. Next door Mum was snoring, but otherwise it was quiet. Wesley picked up his trainers and padded into the sitting room.
His brother was a long lump on the sofa, face down on the pillow, breathing noisily. Back when they had shared a room, there had been nights Wesley was frightened he might suffocate like that.
The boards squeaked under the thin carpet as he crept past him to the door. The jacket was still there, and Wesley reached into the pocket, gripping the keys hard so they wouldn’t clink together.
Watching Jordan the entire time, he opened the latch and pulled the door open just enough to let his body through, before going out into the night.