Page 77 of A Long Way Back
“Four thirty. The doctor’s run late each time I’ve been. I want to take you out for a meal after. Into London. Think Dog will be okay for a few hours?”
“We could feed him early. He won’t complain.”
THE CAR PULLED UP ON Rimmington Road. “Thanks,” Tay said to the driver.
Ink climbed out and came round to Tay’s side, but he managed to get out without help.
“You’re making me redundant.” Ink brushed his hand between Tay’s shoulder blades.
Tay froze on the pavement. “My legs have stopped working. Help!”
Oh God.Did he need to pretend he was making slower progress so Ink would stay?
Once they were through the front door, Tay checked the table to see if there was any mail. The postman pushed it through the letterbox and whoever found it, put it on the table. There was a postcard from Southampton from his mum and dad. His mum had writtenThis ship is HUGE! Lost your dad twice already. xxTay smiled.
“I’ll let Dog out.” Ink unlocked the door of the flat and held it open for Tay.
Dog skidded on the floor as he raced to the back door. Tay went into the kitchen and put food in Dog’s bowl. By the time Ink and Dog came back, Tay had taken a pizza from the freezer, unwrapped it and turned on the oven.
“You really are making me redundant,” Ink said behind him.
“There’s a lot I need you to do for me.” He just needed to pluck up enough courage to ask.
“I ought to wash your sheets. Do you have any spare ones?”
“In the wardrobe.”
“I’ll put a load of laundry on, okay?”
Tay felt as if Ink was pulling away from him and he didn’t know why. What had all that flirting in the cinema been about? Something told him that if he tried to reel Ink in, ask him too many questions or the wrong questions, he’d run so hard he’d break the line and vanish from his life. Tay didn’t know why he was so certain about that, but he was, and he had no idea how to stop it from happening. Offer Ink money to stay? But that wasn’t something Tay wanted to do because it would change the nature of their relationship.
Except, thatwastheir relationship. He might not have paid Ink yet, but that was why he was here. His paid helper. So he had to find a way to make Ink want to stay beyond needing the money. Pretend to be making less progress than he was until he’d changed Ink’s mind.
By the time Ink came back into the kitchen, the pizza was almost done, and for once, Tay’s stomach rumbled in hunger.
“Smells great,” Ink said.
“Could you slice it up, please? And get us something to drink?”
Ink slid it out of the oven onto a chopping board. “What would you like?”
“Water.” He wanted a beer or wine, but didn’t want Ink to say he shouldn’t, didn’t want to hearnocoming out of Ink’s mouth at all.
Ink brought the board to the table and cut the pizza into slices. Tay pulled one triangle onto his plate and Ink did the same.
“How did you cook when you were living in a squat?”
“I didn’t. Most squats don’t have services connected, including water. People used disposable BBQs or a primus stove or built a fire in a hearth and cooked on that. Or just ate cold stuff.”
“Could you use soup kitchens and food banks?”
“I bought warm food from cafés. I never used a soup kitchen or a food bank.”
“Why not?”
“You need a voucher for a food bank, and to get a voucher, you have to have a referral from a doctor, health visitor, or social worker.”
Tay put two and two together. They’d want information and Ink was swimming under the radar.
