Page 79 of Second Story

“Thanks, Joe,” he says once I’ve turned off the engine. “That was immensely useful. You’re in court tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, first thing, so I can’t miss my train this evening.”

I’m aware his father still watches from where Joe’s phone is propped up. I can’t read his expression. This is the samereservation Joe only ever shows when someone stares at his scars.

Luke is way more open. “Come back as soon as you can to deliver your full workshop program. You’d be an asset. Truly inspirational. We’d be lucky to have you. Talk to me about dates soon, yes?”

Children flood out from the school, and I catch a glimpse of Lenny, marching with the only gang I want to feature in his future.

Tor leads the way, hand-in-hand with Maisie. I’m sure that Hadi and Asa follow. It’s Lenny who shines. Or his cape does, at least. It ripples out behind him, and that’s what I still want now more than ever—for him to fly like he does after running in Joe’s direction for a last goodbye his dad gets to witness.

Lenny takes a flying jump, and Joe catches him like usual. There’s no mistaking my brother’s head resting on Joe’s shoulder for anything but the trust I can’t believe I ever held myself back from.

I wish Mum could see it.Us. Almost a family in the making.

It would be a weight off her mind, whatever her final plea decision. And there’s no mistaking that Joe’s phone screen shows someone else who has had a weight on their mind as soon as Joe asks, “Remember when you used to tell me to keep my guard up, Dad? How you drilled me over and over? How you never stopped nagging.”

His father frowns but nods slowly.

“That was the only thing that saved my eyes. My sight. I’ll remember that every single time I get to see my nephew.”

I don’t hear how his call ends.

Joe tells me once all his goodbyes are over, and I drive out of Glynn Harber with him beside me later.

He scrubs at his face as I head for the station. “I’ve seen Dad in the ring so many times.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hundreds of times. He used to strap on pads when I couldn’t take a swing at Josh. Told me to have at it.” This is rougher, but now isn’t the time to tell him he sounds just like the man he mentions. “Said I couldn’t ever hurt him. To go all out so I could defend myself if he wasn’t around. Today was the first time I ever left him winded.” He almost chokes on this. “In a good way.”

I’m still winded by what else he let slip during that talk.

Another four letter word describing care follows my purring van along the coast road, soaring and spiralling like the cliffside gulls all the way to the station, which we reach way too quickly.

Joe needs to hurry. He still takes the time to kiss me while we’re still in the van. He breaks off with a promise. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You don’t have to.”

He sits back, a frown flickering. “You don’t want me to see you soon? Because of what I said about…”

“About not letting the person you care about the most face tough stuff on their own?” I narrow my eyes. “That depends on if you meant me.”

His smile mirrors his first one of the morning, slow and so sweet. It’s only interrupted by the whistle of a tourist steam train chugging into the station.

“But seriously, think about it,” I suggest on the way out of the van. “Maybe you should go to that painting party.” Joe’s frown flickers again as he hurries with me to the station entrance, and I hurry just as quickly to say, “After what you just told your dad, you all being in the same room together kinda sounds important.” Plus, all that talk about making repairs with his brother has only added to a picture of two halves that are a stronger whole together.

I can’t come between that.

White clouds come between us instead once we’re on the platform separating an old steam train from the fast train to London that Joe needs. That mist clears, and I search Joe’s face as another whistle blows. “What you said earlier. You know I feel the same, yeah?”

I don’t know if he heard me over the blast of that whistle. Hurrying passengers divide us before I can confess that care isn’t strong enough for how I feel about him.

Joe boards with them to take a window seat I’m tugged towards as if a crab line vibrates between us. It’s actually my phone, which only vibrates with this insistence for one reason.

Mum.

I palm my handset as Joe answers my question by nodding from his seat in the train, then blowing me a kiss like I did just this morning.

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