Page 31 of Mercury Rising
“New York.”
“Oh dear, we should have organised a rota.”
“Bloody hell, I’m a big boy. I can entertain myself.”
“I’ll ring you in the week.”
He terminated the call before Mercury even had a chance to reply. It must be nice to be busy. The communal gardens which Queens Crescent curved around were empty. Usually there was someone or other sunbathing or playing a game to say hello to.
In dire need of distraction, Mercury stared at the phone still in his hand.
Maybe.
He had left the key each resident had for the iron gate at the house. Still, he had climbed over that fence on more than one occasion. He still had it in him.
Mercury got a foothold and swung his leg over.
“Mercury Morrison.”
He froze.
“Mrs Wimpole.”
Fuck. She guarded those gardens like a ninja. Where had she come from? He glanced around until he saw her hanging out of her first-floor window. In the Georgian townhouses, the drawing rooms were all on the first floor. For Mrs Wimpole it was a prime lookout point.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I forgot my key.”
“There are some brand-new camelias in that bed. If you trample on them, I’ll have your hide. You’ve been in enough trouble lately.”
Mercury saluted and propelled his body so he cleared the flower bed.
“Camelias remain intact.”
“Just you make sure they survive your return.”
She slammed the window down. Mercury wasn’t fooled—she would be watching him for the duration of his stay in the garden.
He made his way to the bench that was surrounded by white hydrangeas. It was breathtaking. Mrs Wimpole had arranged for it to be planted when her husband died. He had loved the gardens and now she protected them with such vigour.
Flopping down, Mercury positioned his phone and pressed Record.
“Hey, everyone. I hope you’re good. Thank you so much for the feedback on my video last week. It means the world to know you’re all still there. No Madeline today, I’m afraid. I thought I’d give you a life update.”
He stared over at the house he shared with his mother. It had always been a sanctuary, yet now, in the space of a week, it had become a prison. A top-class one, but a prison nonetheless.
“I’ve done the first week of my community service. I can’t and won’t give details of it. That wouldn’t be fair. I guess I wanted to say that it’s really making me think. While I’m lying low, I’ve been considering whether I should carry on with this channel and if I do, what changes to make. I’d love to hear from you. Hit me up in the comments—tell me what you’re doing today and what you’d like to see from me. See you soon.”
Not waiting for doubt to seize him, he uploaded the video and pressed Send.
“Let’s see what becomes of that.”
What he was really wondering was what would Nick think of it. Not that he expected him to be a subscriber but one of the kids might tell him. In the past he’d said whatever came to mind in his videos. He rarely planned them. Now, he was picturing Nick on the other side. That gave things a whole different sheen.
Mercury found that he really did care what that person thought of him.
What the fuck is happening to me?
