Page 128 of Forever, Maybe
Daniel froze mid-sip, the hot bitterness of coffee flooding his mouth. He swallowed hard, spluttering slightly. “Eh… I dunno if I can afford that right now.”
They’d recently taken on another shop and the business’s finances were stretched to the limit; hence the budget hotel and flights.
Joe’s mouth twitched. “Naw, nae need! Honest, guvnor. You’ve done an awfy lot for me over the years. I’ve forgotten what happened last night already.”
In the hours, days and weeks that followed, Daniel’s mind worked tirelessly to compartmentalise the night’s events, shoving them into a locked mental drawer and slapping a metaphorical sign on it:DO NOT DISTURB.
Once upon a time, when he still drank, he visited Amsterdam and woke up naked beside a woman who wasn’t his wife. They hadn’t had sex—he was almost certain—but the shame and panic of that morning clung to him like a stubborn stain. Determined to ensure nothing like it could ever happen again, he quit drinking.
When Nell asked why, he’d shrugged it off. “Overdid it while I was away. Felt fucking terrible the next day and I never want to experience that again.”
Nell never questioned the decision.
But no matter how tightly he’d locked that night away, it refused to vanish entirely. A tiny, nagging vestige of doubt remained, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.
What if?
What if, in the early hours of an Amsterdam Sunday morning, a trainee nurse hovered above him, her long, dark hair brushing his chest, her hips moving against his, her voice breathless and tinged with disbelief, as she exclaimed repeatedly about how she couldn’t believe her good luck…
Chapter fifty-three
August2016
“Where are you going?” Trish bellowed as Daniel about-turned, heading for the back door his father had slammed minutes earlier.
“Out,” he called over his shoulder, not stopping as he darted through the house and around the corner to his car.
The photo of Ryan had jolted something loose in his memory, sharpening the edges of Joe’s words from a few months ago:
That young lad—ye ken the one that came into the Hyndland shop a few weeks back? Me and Holly interviewed him for a job. Seemed that capable we offered it to him there and then. He’s out wi’ Dennis in the van that goes round the industrial estates, getting the practice in before the festivals start…
Joe had added that Ryan had done well enough to be taken on permanently.
Now, with festival season more or less over, Dennis and the van would be stationed at Anniesland today, parked outside the industrial estate to catch workers looking for a convenient lunch.
Daniel’s foot pressed harder on the accelerator as the fragmented memories collided: the interview, Joe’s offhand comment about Ryan’s likeness to someone. Maybe he’d remembered Amsterdam too. Maybe he’d wondered, just like Daniel was wondering now, if Ryan was his past coming back to bite him.
The traffic on Dumbarton Road crawled, every red light and slow-moving lorry stretching Daniel’s patience to breaking point. His fingers drummed a frantic tattoo on the steering wheel.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…
Finally, the industrial estate loomed into view. A large office block dominated the landscape, with smaller portable units clustered on the hill above.
He pulled into the main car park and abandoned his car without bothering to lock it. His pulse thudded in his ears as he dashed off to find the van, scanning frantically for Dennis and, more importantly, Ryan.
There it was—the van, instantly recognisable by its red-and-black branding and the unmistakable aroma of baked potatoes wafting through the air. A decent queue had formed, people shuffling forward while staring at their phones.
Daniel bolted toward it, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Dennis’s Afro bobbed into view as he leaned out of the hatch, asking the first person in line for their order. Behind him, Daniel spotted a dark-haired boy, and his heart leapt into his throat.
“It’s yoursel’, boss!” Dennis called out, flashing a grin and a wave. “Where’s the fire?”
Daniel skidded to a halt in front of the van, panting. Every eye in the queue turned to him, curiosity mixed with mild annoyance. Ryan looked up from behind Dennis, his gaze locking on Daniel’s.
The boy’s expression didn’t screamlong-lost sixteen-year-old facing an absentee parent,but there was a challenge there—a steady, unblinking look that sent a fresh wave of doubt crashing through Daniel.
“Mind if I have a word wi’ Ryan?” Daniel asked, his voice tight.
