Page 43 of A Long Way Back
“Isthank youso hard to say?” Ink asked.
“Thank you.”
“Let’s try that again with a bit more passion. One, two, three—action!”
“Do you want me on my knees?”
“No, because I’d only have to help you up and then you’d have to say thank you again and I’m guessing twice would be too much.”
Tay muttered something that Ink didn’t catch.
“Do you like swimming?” Ink asked. “I suppose the sea’s cold in Northumberland.”
“Yes.”
Oh God.What had happened since last night? Tay’s bad mood at breakfast had continued. “I’ve never swum in the sea.”
“Swimming’s easier in salt water.”
“As long as the sea’s calm.”Keep him talking.“Did you have to wear a wetsuit?”
“There were a few summer days when we could surf without.”
Ink widened his eyes. “You’re a surfer?”
“I surfed with Jonty.”
Ink bit back his irritation that Tay kept mentioning the guy. If he was gone, he was gone.
“You’ll surf again. You could bodyboard instead until you get your legs back.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, but better than nothing, hey?”
“How would you know? Surfing was a huge part of my life. You think I’d be happy bodyboarding while others were surfing? You think that would make me happy?”
Ink didn’t feel he needed to apologise, but he did anyway. “Sorry. Touchy subject and I’ve said too much and now I’m going to say even more. There’s no use always feeling dissatisfied with what you’re able to achieve. Just be grateful for what you can do today. No one knows what’s going to happen tomorrow.”
Tay scowled. “A motivational speech from a homeless guy? Thanks a lot for reminding me of what I can no longer do.”
Oh, fuck off.“My big mouth too much for you? There’s a cure, but since it involves decapitation, or stuffing it with something, maybe you’ll have to learn to cope.”
“Are you grateful for what you can do today? Are you happy to have no home, no proper job?” Tay snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with ambition, trying to be better and better at something.”
“No, there isn’t.” Ink wished he’d kept quiet.
“If everyone settled for just what they could do, the world would never make progress.”
“You’re right.”
“So what’s your ambition? Where do you see yourself when you’re forty?”
Dead, probably.Ink swallowed hard. “I don’t know. But I hope I die thinking that I did the best I could to be a kind and decent person, and that others recognised that. I’d like to think I’ll have done something to make the world a better place, even if that’s just putting a smile on a sad face. I try not to be greedy or selfish, or so focused on myself that I accidentally hurt someone. I want to die having enjoyed the life I had.”
“I didn’t say anything about dying. You’re not thinking you’ll live past forty?”
“I could die this afternoon.”
