Page 66 of Second Story

At least we get to laugh our way through this one together.

I shouldn’t be surprisedby Luke stalking the library daily. I still jump when he speaks from behind me weeks after I first started to make this space mine. “These are new.”

He’s found my most recent addition to a storytelling corner. “The capes? Ruth helped me make them.” I unfurl shimmering fabric, heavy with silver sequins. “Because why only read about heroes when you could be one?”

“Speaking of hero worship.” Luke looks through another window, and my heart stops.

Joe has arrived a day ahead of an extended schedule we’ve both been counting down to.

Lenny is with him. So is the padre’s son, busy gifting him with dandelions and daisies that Joe accepts. He meets my gaze with only a glass pane between us instead of a phone screen, and I’m so fucking pleased to see him.

“He rang first thing to say he’d had a cancellation and could head back today.” Luke pauses. “You were busy with the little ones. I guessed that him coming early wouldn’t be a problem. It’s an extra day for him to get to know the sixth-form cohort before testing the waters about a longer run of workshops.” He lowers his voice as if Joe could hear him through the window. “That’s still good with you?”

I nod. It’s more than good. Frankly, I’m not sure it could be any better until Luke shares that he has more news for me. “I also just got confirmation that the prison service has added the school landline to your mother’s approved list. You can take calls in here. Or maybe somewhere else would be more private.”

I follow him a short way along the hallway to the pastoral care room. “You wouldn’t need to worry about being overheard or overlooked in here. The room is entirely private right down to the reflective window.” He unlocks a desk drawer. “And I’m sure Hugo would be fine with you using this tablet for video calls, so you have a decent-sized screen. All you’d need to do first is?—”

I’m an old hand at this. “Install the app and request a call.” I take the tablet. “I’m on it.”

I do it right away, so intent that I forget Luke is with me until he says, “Well, will you look at that?” He closes in on the window, and if I needed proof that no one can see inside here, he gives it by standing with his hands on his hips, blatantly staring. Or observing, rather, like the man he mentions. “Dad said hethought Lenny wasn’t far off from getting completely verbal.” This sounds wondering from him. “He’s come close with me a few times at breakfast lately. Forgot to be quiet and felt safe enough to let go of that tight rein. He’s already there with Joe, isn’t he?”

“Maybe because Joe was around when Lenny was still talking.”

“He’ll be a chatterbox with everyone before you know it.” Luke is so like his dad that I’d point out they’ve even made the same promise if I wasn’t too busy wishing and hoping for that outcome.

Especially for Mum.

Soon, please.

The tablet pinging is perfectly timed. I focus on it instead of letting Luke witness how much I want that for her. I can’t pretend I’ve got my shit together once I read the notification.

“Trouble?” Luke’s shoulders square for me like I’ve seen once already, even though the only trouble I have right now is making myself sound as calm as a real school librarian should.

My voice fucking trembles at getting at least one wish granted. “Mum can make a video call today.”

I didn’t expect to see her face-to-face this soon. I only have one wish—that prison rules wouldn’t preclude Joe from being with us when our time slot comes around a few hours later. The call finally connects to show her, pale as fuck but smiling, and Joe being with us is the only way this could be better.

Then he’d get the reward of witnessing what seeing Mum for the first time in almost two months does to my little brother.

For once, Len doesn’t cry or sit in silence. In fact, he asks a surprising question.

“Do you know how to catch a crab, Mum?”

My eyes sting at her surprise, at her relief to hear him speaking, and at her shaky, still smiling, answer. “No, baby, I don’t. Do you?”

“Yes!” He tells her how that happened, and this isn’t how our calls usually go, but I’ll take this animated version even if I don’t get to say much. Lenny does all the talking for me. “I’ll teach you soon.” That word has new meaning for him, and all because of the man outside this window.

Joe sits all alone at a picnic bench, leafing through a scrapbook missing a page. I don’t need that old map leading straight to prison. Having him here, Lenny talking, and Mum in the same room as us feels like finding triple treasure.

Because of him.

Joe looks up as if he hears me thinking, and I see a reminder of his twin in this expression. He’d been stern in that photo of him and Joe together. Black and white, Joe had called him, only this real-life frown looks more worried to me.

About us.

I wish even harder that he had sat in on this call and got to hear Lenny yap-yap-yapping about puppies and about sheepdogs. About his new besties, Tor and Hadi and Asa. “He fell in a rock pool again, Mum, and Mr. Lawson saved him. NotourMr. Lawson. His daddy.” He leans close to the screen. “He said I didn’t miss the boat trip. I can go on Saturday to see some seals and a castle.” He winces, as if he doesn’t want to hurt her. “But I might need to come to see you.”

Mum presses her lips together instead of filling his silence like usual.

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