Page 56 of Reinventing Cato
“How did you guess?”
Cato twirled his fork in his pasta. “Your quarks not quacking?”
“I’m just tired, and fed up of driving all the way to Brighton to see my mum. If only I could get her in somewhere more local. I could spend more time with her then.”
Cato winced. “Sorry. How is she?”
Pedro just gave him a look. His mum was in a hospice sohow is shewas a bit of a pointless question.
“Do you want a drink?” Sam asked. “There’s some wine in the fridge.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Pedro slumped at the table. “Sometimes it just feels like there’s too much to deal with.”
“Cato and I were just saying we should have a party.” Sam put a glass of wine in front of Pedro.
“You were saying that, not me,” Cato pointed out.
“But don’t you think it would be good?” Sam said. “Brighten up January? Cheer us up. I was thinking about the Saturday after this or the one after that.”
“What about a Wednesday?” Cato said.
Sam frowned. “But no one will come on a Wednesday.”
Cato bit back his smile. “Precisely.”
Pedro put down his empty glass. “Is there more wine going?”
“Help yourself,” Sam said, handing him the bottle.
He’d drunk that fast. But Cato could see he was down.
“Oh, I got your tickets.” Cato pulled his wallet from his pocket and put two tickets on the table. He’d got one for Vigge too, just in case.
“Thanks.” Sam beamed at him. “So can I arrange a party?”
Cato looked at Pedro.
Pedro shrugged. “Why not?”
“The second Saturday,” Cato said. “Wait till people are back.”
He only half-listened as they discussed the guest list and food. He wasn’t especially against having a party, only that he couldn’t be arsed to organise one and while that threat hung over him, he wasn’t sure he’d be in the mood. He’d just forked up the last mouthful of tagliatelle, wishing he’d made more, when the doorbell rang. Sam went to answer it, as he always did,bloody Goody Two Shoes,and came back with Max.
Cato didn’t hide his shock. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you I need to talk to you.”
Cato carried his plate to the sink and started to wash up.
“I can do that for you,” Sam said.
For fuck’s sake!“Thanks.”
Max followed Cato out of the kitchen, but when Cato tried to lead him to the lounge, he caught hold of his arm.
“In private,” Max said.
Cato hesitated, then headed up to his room. He sat on his chair in front of his desk and swivelled from side to side. Max shut the door and started to unbutton his coat.
