Page 59 of Kicks
He’d spent the morning in a haze. Kim had got in touch and told him to shut the shop and come for a boozy lunch. Normally, he wouldn’t entertain such a thing. That day, he had every intention of living dangerously.
He walked up Harry’s drive clutching a bottle of wine and rang the doorbell.
Kim opened the door with Lennox in one arm. She stared hard at him.
“Good afternoon,” Billy said as innocently as possible.
“Harry. Hurry up with pouring that wine. He’s slept with him.”
“Do you mind?”
“Not in the least.”
She handed Lennox over. To Billy’s amazement, the little one hugged him tightly.
“He’s been asking for Unc Bill,” Kim said.
“Really?”
She nodded. Billy snuggled into his nephew. “We’d better find time for some fun then, while I’m here.”
They walked into the house and through to the kitchen. Harry had three large glasses of wine at the ready. Lennox wriggled to the floor and tottered off.
“He’s amazing,” Billy said, accepting a drink.
“Thanks. We think so too,” Harry replied.
It amazed Billy how his rowdy brother had morphed into a family man. He was so pleased to have them in his life once again.
“I have news,” Billy said.
“I can tell,” Kim replied.
They went and sat in the lounge. The rain pelted against the French windows.
“I had a telephone interview with a potential architecture firm in town. They seemed interested.”
“Hey, that’s great,” Harry said. “I think this will be good for you. Crystal won’t be around forever.”
“I get that,” Billy replied.
“And we’ll support you with the shop,” Kim said. “I can’t bloody wait.”
Billy grinned. “It is exciting, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. Now can we talk about Eddie?” Kim replied. “We need all the gory details.”
THIRTEEN
EDDIE
The Lanes were supposed to be the oldest part of Brighton. A web of tiny streets packed with shops and eateries, it was popular all year round.
Usually, locals would avoid it like the plague. Tyler, being relatively new to town, had never been, so Eddie and Scott suffered in relative silence. They had convinced Tyler to make a roast dinner that weekend.
The sun had returned so even on a Wednesday evening, it had persuaded everyone to come out. After a bit of trial and error, the flatmates had found a table.
“If one more bag hits me, I’m going to scream,” Scott said.
