Page 60 of From Now On

‘You want a sharp needle,’ she had instructed, trying not to smile as he’d tested each tip on his finger, grimacing each time. ‘You know what we use the blunt ones for?’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. They’re pointless.’ She’d laughed.

‘Needlessto say, I didn’t find that funny.’ He’d sucked a droplet of blood from the end of his finger.

The atmosphere had changed as she’d showed him how to stitch, their heads close together. There’d been a moment where he’d actually smelled her hair, fresh and clean, and he’d fought the impulse to tuck it behind her ear.

He was just lonely, missing Sasha. That’s all.

He’d straightened up. ‘Think I’ve got it now.’

‘Good. You know you can get fabric markers? You could have just written Duke’s name?’

‘And you didn’t tell me this before because you wanted to see my fingertips bleed?’

‘No.’ There’d been a beat. ‘Because it’s nice to feel needed.’

He’d wanted to tell her that she was needed, that they all needed her, but he hadn’t wanted her to feel burdened so he’d snapped off the cotton with his teeth and then said, ‘I wish Nina needed me.’

‘She does. She just doesn’t know how to express it.’

‘I don’t remember you being like her at fifteen.’ Charlie had taken a gulp of his drink. ‘Christ, this stuff is rough.’

‘Yeah, but she’s been through a lot and, taking into account puberty and hormones and—’

‘Should I talk to her about periods?’ Charlie had suddenly wished there was alcohol in the wine.

‘Christ, no. Why would you just bring that up?’

‘In case they suddenly start and she’s scared.’

‘They started almost two years ago for her.’

‘Oh. But I should probably let her know I’m progressive and she can talk to me.’

‘But she doesn’t talk to you about those things and it’ll just embarrass her. She can open up to you when she’s ready. In the meantime, make sure she has enough allowance to buy her own toiletries. I can check in on her.’

‘Allowance? Umm, I’ve been meaning to look into that. Thanks.’ He’d been grateful because Nina was an enigma.

Duke, on the other hand, doesn’t leave Charlie’s side, even sitting in on some of his FaceTime calls with Sasha, which means Charlie knows the touristy spots Sasha has visited, what she eats, what Broadway shows she has seen but he doesn’t know how shefeels.She always seems to be rushing somewhere and Charlie can’t wait until they can properly catch up.

Sundays are Charlie’s favourite day. Aunt Violet comes over for lunch – she cooks so it’s always the one meal guaranteed to be edible – and then they all watch a movie together on the flatscreen TV Charlie had bought.

Netflix is an endless wonder to Duke and even Nina is pleased although she tries her best to hide it.

Charlie is out of his depth but determined to learn. At night he lies in the bedroom Mum and Bo once shared and reads books on parenting. He’s learned about the importance of allowing the kids to ask any questions they have and he tries not to wear expressions of anger or frustration.

He picks up his coffee from the bedside table, which is still littered with Mum’s things. Her dog-eared copy ofThe Time Traveler’s Wife, a pair of silver hooped earrings. He hadn’t wanted to sleep in here but a week on the sofa bed in the lounge had sent twinges of pain up his spine. The room is pretty much as Mum and Bo had left it, as though they might return at any moment. Charlie has a few clothes heaped in the corner, piled on top of the suitcase that Sasha had couriered back to him from New York. A stack of his own books. He hasn’t been able to focus on reading since New Year. It’s a good job really that he doesn’t have manuscripts to read for work at the moment.

It’s eleven o’clock – six o’clock in New York. Sasha will be finishing work, going out to eat with her new colleagues. It’s inexplicable that city life continues without him. Here the pace is slow but Charlie quite likes it.

His phone rings: Sasha.

‘Hey!’ He’s delighted to hear from her. To see her face fill his screen. ‘Did you get my message?’

‘Yes.’

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