Page 60 of Second Story

We don’t head straight backafter Sealife School is over. Apparently, these sessions usually end at a fisherman’s cottage, and we pass under strings of bunting on the way there. It flutters over each narrow alley and over Luke and Joe. They talk the whole way, then stand on the doorstep as that older session leader extends an invitation that clues me into the fact that he’s Luke’s father.

“If I know my son, he won’t stop yapping for ages. Come in.” He then fires at Luke, “Don’t wear out your tongue, Mr. Chatterbox. Your mother will be back soon. You know she’ll only want to talk your ear off.” He opens the front door even wider. “Kids, come on inside. I got something for each of you to borrow until next week.” He shows us through to a living room that features a wall full of family photos and a stack of books waiting. “Found this one for you.” He hands a book with a castle on the cover to Tor. “And one each for you terrible pair.” He gives Asa and Hadi books with soldiers on their covers. “Now, let’s see…”

He taps his lips as if he’s thinking, then digs into the same kind of box I keep in the back of my Transit. It’s crammed full of dog-eared books that Lenny would usually dive into. He hangs back, behind my legs again, in an action replay of when we first came to Cornwall.

Luke’s dad is no giant to be scared of—he makes himself small by sitting on the floor and placing more books on the floor between us. One shows cars. Another features football players. His last choice gets Lenny moving. He kneels closer to see andhear more about the sea life on its pages, and that’s what takes up the next ten minutes, all the kids drawn to this man who lets them lead the conversation while I hover near the door, torn between wanting to hear if Lenny joins in and straining to hear if Luke and Joe have come to an agreement.

I can’t make out what Luke is saying, and that crab line inside me winds tight until his dad says, “How about you take a look at those?” He points at that wall full of framed photos. “Guess which was my quietest boy.”

I scan photos showing gap-toothed kids as well as adults, then ask what I only realise too late could be taken as rude or nosy. “These are really all your kids?”

“After a fashion. Was a caretaker to some for a while. Dad to some forever. I’ll give you a clue: Look for the school.”

I find Glynn Harber then, or I find the initials GH, at least. They’re embroidered in gold on the pocket of a school blazer worn by a kid who looks as solemn as Len did in every photo I sent to Mum until we got here. Like my brother, this kid is wary.

Thank fuck I’ve got some happier shots to show her.

My phone burns a hole in my pocket all over again at the one I caught of Lenny with a crab on his line. The shot I caught of him with Joe is even happier. I don’t get a chance to steal another look at it before I’m joined by Luke’s dad. “Our Luke really found his voice there.”

“Luke?” I take another look. “But you just called him a chatterbox. I thought you said he was your quietest kid?” I can’t help my gaze from landing on Len. “What made him chatty?”

“No one thing. Lots of little ones, like me and his mother not pushing. That never helped. Being observant did. So did us giving him chances to follow his interests. Luke made it easy by loving nature. Couldn’t get enough of wildlife, so we got him up close to plenty of it. We filled him with so many happy moments they had to spill out.” This sounds weary. “He hasn’t shut upsince, so be careful what you wish for.” He tilts his head towards Len, who has found a different book to pore over. “Looks like your quiet one isn’t too different. He likes dogs?”

He’s right about being observant—Lenny has found a book full of them. “Not lately. He always wanted one of his own until...” I blink away the memory of what changed his mind in a snapping and snarling hurry. “These days, they scare him.”

“And yet that’s the book he’s chosen to fill his head with. His heart too.” Luke’s dad can’t know that he echoes his son by murmuring, “Brave boy.” He crosses the room to crouch by Len once he turns a final page. “You finished with that book?”

Lenny shakes his head, as wary as I still can’t believe my boss ever mirrored.

“Then how about you keep it until next weekend? Bring it with you next Saturday.”

Lenny’s silently pleased about that. He might even be about to say thanks. I can almost see it coming, and I hate to burst his happy bubble by interrupting. “We might not be here.” I’m still crossing my fingers for a prison visit.

“Ah. Depending on the weather, we were planning a boat trip to do some seal spotting on Kara-Enys.”

Tor overhears. “That’s the island my daddy looks after.” Lenny’s wide-eyed look his way must speak volumes. “Yes,” Tor confirms. “The one with the castle. We’re all sleeping over. The duke said we could.”

Luke’s dad spots what I do—even without saying a word, Lenny looks so conflicted that he goes ahead and offers a solution. “If you can’t make it next week, I’ll take you another time. And you keep that book as long as you like. No need to bring it back until you’re ready to say goodbye to it.”

That stays with me when it’s time for us all to leave and for Joe to meet with Noah.

I’m not ready to say goodbye either.

I wait to make an offer until the boys skip ahead with Luke to the car park. “You need a lift?”

“To the farm? That would be great.” His arm comes around me, hand light on the small of my back, but it brings me close enough to hear this worry. “If you have any ideas of how to break the ice with him, I’m all ears.”

“With Noah? But he asked you to visit, didn’t he?”

“Yes. And no.” Joe palms his phone. “His brother just called. Said Noah is still frosty about the whole giving evidence thing. Having second thoughts. If I mess up this meeting, I’m not sure I’ll get a chance at another.”

Joe tells me what I now believe about him—what I always did but couldn’t let myself admit.

“I’ll be there for him at court regardless. Stay with him right through to the end, whatever happens. What I won’t be able to do is advocate fully for him if he won’t trust me enough to tell me what will help him get through the process.”

He makes it so easy for me to come up with a second offer.

“We could stay for a few minutes, Lenny and me. Because Noah’s got dogs and offered to show them to him, and”—I have to face this—“I haven’t helped him get over being scared. Even if Noah sits in the van while Lenny looks out the window at his dogs with him, it could be an icebreaker for both of them. Then I could drop you back at the station.”

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