Page 68 of Second Story

Lenny repeats what it took Joe to prove to us both. “Soon used to take a long time, Mum. Now it keeps coming quicker and quicker.”

And our call is also over quicker than any of us want. At least Lenny holds it together over saying goodbye for the first time in forever. “I’ll see you soon, Mum,” he promises and catches the kiss she blows him, but it’s Joe I see even sooner. And it’s Joe keeping Lenny busy while I rewind and replay how Mum ended our conversation as soon as the door closed behind Len.

Keep him safe.

That shouldn’t have sounded final, like her handing him over to me for good.

Thank you, baby.

I’m almost certain she thanked the wrong person, but Mum doesn’t know that every time I track back to how we got here, Joe’s the reason.

Yes, I made my own luck without him, but even then, he was my incentive—I wanted to prove I didn’t need him. That he broke my trust.

He didn’t.

Now I want to dig through that time capsule for an envelope holding a map and a picture of Lenny holding the hand of his real hero. I’d scrub out my own name and label it Joe da Silva if it hadn’t already been buried.

It’s Joe who Mum should thank, and I hope the fuck she gets to.

Maybe he could come with me.

It’s probably too late to add him to her visitor list for this weekend, but the idea stays with me all the way through bath and bedtime.

It’s still on my mind much later when Lenny’s tucked up after a bedtime story neither Ruth nor I needed to read now Joe’s here, and my brother’s favourite narrator walks me back to my new staff rooms later.

It’s dark outside. Inside too, once I enter. Joe still sees enough to pause in the doorway and ask a question instead of following. “You okay?”

Maybe whatever stole my brother’s voice is infectious, and perhaps Joe guesses. He speaks for me like he used to do for Lenny in front of social workers. “I guessed something was on your mind after your video call. Lenny came out all smiles. You…” He catches hold of my chin. Not for long. Only for the few seconds it takes for him to scan my soul, it feels like. “You kept looking at me.”

I do that again now, even though he’s shadowed. I don’t need any more light. I already know what he looks like.

So fucking good, inside and out.

I want Mum to see the same as me, so I don’t argue when Joe flicks on the living room light. I get my phone out instead.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping a promise. Told Mum I’d send her some photos. Doing it before I forget.” Or before I can second-guess adding image after image to an email while the subject of so many ofthem is right beside me. Joe watches me select a shot of Lenny reuniting with him beside a harbour.

“Killer smile.”

He’s looking at my brother. Lenny isn’t who holds my attention, but I nod and add another image.

“Wait.”

He makes me pause over a shot taken only a half hour ago at Lenny’s bedside. It’s already my all-time favourite.

“I’m in this one too.”

I nod. Then I shake my head. “I won’t send them if you don’t want me to.” I pause instead of adding it. “But you do look really good.”

“Even with…” His finger hovers over the screen and over what I’m too slow to notice. He spells out what his rolled-up sleeves have left on show in this photo. “Kinda hard to see anything good-looking about those.”

I want to tell him that Mum is the last person to judge a book by its cover. It matters to Joe, so I offer to delete it. “I don’t have to send them. Mum wanted to see you, that’s all. And I wanted her to see how much Lenny loves having you back in his life. And how much I do.”

I also can’t help loving how he flushes or how low his voice gets when he gives his permission. I’m less of a fan of him changing the subject like he can’t handle hearing how much he’s wanted.

“Nice place you got here.” He touches a horseshoe nailed to an oak beam. “Old stables, right?” He frowns the same way now as the first time I let him into emergency accommodation only fit for roaches. “Is it big enough for both you and Lenny?”

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