Page 61 of A Long Way Back
“After the bed’s been delivered, I’m going to go out and do a bit of busking on the high street. Give you a bit of space to do your work. I’ll be back at twelve to make lunch. I’ll take Dog and then we can leave him here when we go out later.”
“Okay.”
“The bus tour has to be booked in advance. This one looks okay.” He showed Tay his phone. “Would you book it? If they don’t have space today, then we’ll do something else.”
The buzzer went and Ink jolted.
“That’s probably the bed,” Tay said.
“I’ll go and let them in.”
Ink pocketed his phone and Tay took his out along with his wallet. By the time Ink came back, he’d purchased tickets and informed the company that he was in a wheelchair. He’d seen that there was limited space on the vehicles for buggies and wheelchairs, and he didn’t want to get turned away.
“How’s the bed?”
“It fits. Just.” Ink laughed. “Come and look.”
Tay grabbed his crutches and followed him. “I got the tickets. We need to be at The London Eye by two.” He raised his eyebrows when he saw how little space was left in the room. The bed almost filled it. “There’s no headboard.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think there’d be space anyway. Is there anything you need me to get for you before I shower and go out?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” Tay had expected Ink to bring up the subject of the pills. Tay couldn’t help but feel suspicious.
Back at his desk, he switched on his laptop and started work. He hoped he’d manage a few good hours before his concentration waned. He clicked onto the spreadsheet he was working on and tried not to think about that kiss in the garden, whether they’d do it again.
BY ELEVEN, TAY WAS DONE. He’d made good progress on the accounts, found what he thought might be an issue, but he didn’t have the energy to check further. Rather than hang around waiting for Ink to come back, he decided to take his wheelchair and look for him. Maybe they could go out for lunch. But not to the pub where he’d met Lennie.
He didn’t think it was his imagination that getting his chair down the steps seemed easier, though it probably was. He clipped his crutches into the holders on the back, then sat down and took off the brake. Having to use the wheelchair was irritating, but he had to be pragmatic about how far he could get on his crutches. Maybe he could have got there and back if he didn’t have Ink to push him, but he wasn’t going to risk it.
When he reached the high street, he heard the sound of a guitar, and saw it was Ink. Tay had little chance of approaching him unseen, but he stayed as close to the road as he could, so that he could get nearer before Ink spotted him.
He was singingEvery Breath You Takeand had a strong clear voice.Dog lay at his feet. Tay watched Ink move his fingers so lovingly across his guitar that the breath caught in his throat. Ink was caught up in the music and he pulled Tay into it too. Tay saw only one person drop money into his guitar bag, but it looked as if he’d collected a reasonable quantity of coins. When he finished that song and startedFields Of Gold,Tay wheeled himself to his side and dropped a penny onto the bag. Ink smiled, but when the next words he sang, wereWill you stay with me, will you be my love…and his voice faltered, Tay’s heart thumped.
Dog jumped up at Tay and he picked him up and held him on his lap. Ink sang another song, something Tay didn’t recognise, but the words… About loss and happiness and staying strong…
When the song was done, Ink turned to Tay. “I wrote that. It was for you.”
Tay knew that whatever else happened in his life, this was a moment he’d remember.
Ink crouched down and pushed his coins into what looked like a sock.
“Don’t stop. You’re good.”
“Quit while you’re ahead.” Ink slung his backpack onto his shoulder. “I need to buy a few things from the chemist. Hold my guitar?”
Tay took it. He’d never seen a cigar box guitar before. He wondered if Ink had made it himself. It looked home-made. He twanged it a few times as an experiment and a woman stopped and dropped a fifty pence piece onto the bag Ink had left lying on the pavement. Tay didn’t know whether to laugh or to yell at her not to be so fucking patronising. But he didn’t try to play again. Well, not until Ink emerged from the chemist, then Tay strummed a few discordant chords.
Ink grabbed the guitar back and stroked it. “What’s that torturer doing to you, baby?”
Tay laughed. “Play something else. Please.”
Ink sighed. “Okay.”
He launched intoIf You Want To Sing Out, Sing Outand Tay was mesmerised. He couldn’t take his eyes off him, couldn’t stop smiling. Ink followed that withMiles From Nowhere,also by Cat Stevens, and Tay clapped when he’d done. As did a few people who’d stopped to listen. Some had taken photographs and more money had been tossed onto the guitar bag.
“You have a fantastic voice,” Tay said. “You’ve just earned ten quid in the last few minutes. That’s more than I earn.”
Ink gave a short laugh. “You’re not going to want to hear this, but I think it’s because you’re with me and have Dog sitting on your lap. You look cute.”
