“Want me to come and have a look at it?”
“Oh, no.” He held up his hands. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“Come in for a sec.” I waved him inside. “You’ll freeze your nads off.” As I closed the door behind him, I added, “I don’t mind giving you a hand. Doesn’t make sense to call a repairman if it’s an easy fix.”
“Well...only if you’re sure?”
“’Course. I’m playing volleyball tomorrow. How about Friday evening?”
“Yeah, great, thanks. It’ll give Nancy another reason to cook you dinner.”
“Oh?” That sounded intriguing.
“Yeah, she wants to invite you all over soon.” He grinned. “Keep you in our good books. I’ve always had two left hands when it comes to anything manual. Much to her despair.”
Of course that was why Nancy wanted me to come over. Why else would it be? I laughed at my stupidity. “No worries. I got my DIY knowledge from my grandfather. Taught me everything I know.” I nodded toward him. “Looks like you’re just getting back from work.”
“Yeah.” Liam stretched out his neck and loosened his tie, then stuffed it into his coat pocket. “Long day.”
“Finance, isn’t it? That’s what you said the other night?”
“Yup. Typical banker, I’m afraid. But I’m one of the good guys. Honest.” He held up his fingers in a Boy Scout salute.
I grinned, thinking some male company might not be too bad for a while, seeing as I was permanently outnumbered in my house. Even our dead cat had had a pair of ovaries, for Christ’s sake. “Got time for a beer?”
He seemed to hesitate again. “Won’t Abby mind?”
“’Course not. And she won’t be back for half an hour anyway. She probably went to the Funky Bombay.”
Liam laughed out loud. “The Funky Bombay?”
“Yeah. It’s farther away but worth it. I’ll give you the address if you like. Dump your coat on the banister and go on through to the back.”
As we walked across the hall I saw Liam look at Tom’s picture. His steps slowed, and I wondered if he’d ask about the guy in the picture. It happened sometimes, and the photograph was the first thing Abby had hung up when we’d moved in. “I want it on the landing,” she’d said, handing me the hammer and nails. “So I can say good-morning and good-night to him when I walk past. You don’t mind, do you?”
Of course I didn’t mind. Although, and I knew this was a selfish bastard attitude, I sometimes resented Tom, but at least I felt like a prick for thinking it. He still had such a solid grip on Abby, unrelenting and strong. I wanted her to move past the accident. Not forget—you can’t forget something like that—but I wanted her to forgive herself.
I was relieved when Liam kept walking. Once in the kitchen, I handed him a Heineken from the fridge.
“Thanks,” he said. I watched as he took a sip, leaned against the counter, then crossed his arms. He was at least three inches taller than me and I could see the faint outline of his biceps through his suit. Fit fucker. He leaned to the side and pointed to the conservatory. “Is that a pool table?”
“Yeah. Fancy a game?”
“Love to. I’m a crap player,” Liam said as he took off his jacket and unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling the sleeves back in preparation for battle. “But you’re on.”
“Are you guys settling in okay?” I said as I racked up the balls and broke, potting two of them instantly and trying not to grin too much.
“Nice shot. Yeah, we’re getting there. The new job’s pretty busy, so Nancy’s doing most of the unpacking. She reckons it’s a good thing.” He grimaced. “She says I’m a big tree who gets in the way.”
I half snorted as I lined up my next shot, which I stupidly missed. “Abby wouldn’t let me touch the kitchen when we moved in. Said she’d never find the tin opener again if I did.” I stood up and surveyed the damage.
Liam smiled. “You guys have been here awhile?”
I picked up my beer and swallowed a mouthful, then realized I’d adopted the same pose as Liam, arms crossed, leaning against the pool table. Mirroring—a classic wannabe tactic. I shifted around and stuffed one hand in my pocket, wishing I was wearing a suit. “Almost seventeen years.”
“And you grew up around here?” He took a shot but missed. Amateur.
“Wembley, where Mum was from. Dad moved south for work after he left school.”
“They still live there?”
“No.” I paused. “Mum’s been gone sixteen years now. Two years less than Dad.”
Liam stopped moving and looked at me. “Oh, shit, sorry, mate.”
I looked at his furrowed brow, saw his head slightly tilt to one side. Something made me continue. “Dad was in the police force for over thirty years.” I drank more beer. “Boasted about how he never took a sick day. Then he keeled over in the garden a year before he was supposed to retire. Can you believe it? Massive heart attack. Dead before he hit the ground. So much for never being ill.” I walked around the table, potted another ball.
“Jesus,” he said, “that’s rough.”
“Yeah. And cancer got my mum. It was shit.” I shrugged. “Even my brother, Paul—”
“He died, too?”
I laughed. “No. He moved to Wales. Married with twins. What about your family?”
Liam shrugged. “Only child. Parents are still around, but we don’t see them much. We, uh, don’t exactly see eye to eye.”
“Sounds like Abby,” I said without thinking.
“Oh?” Liam raised his eyebrows. “How so?”
I hesitated, but only for a second. “Her relationship with her mum is messed up. Always has been. And her dad walked out when she was little. Can’t imagine doing that to a kid.” Why had I told him that when I knew how private Abby was about her life? She’d have my balls on a plate. “Anyway.” I cleared my throat, shrugged and drained my beer. “What can you do?”
Liam didn’t speak for a while. He took a couple of shots, which, I had to admit, weren’t too bad, then said, “Family’s really important to you, isn’t it, Nate?”
I looked at him. It was such an odd thing for one guy to say to another, especially since we’d only just met. But the way he’d said it was even odder. Gentle, almost apologetic. A few seconds passed, and when he still didn’t make eye contact, I said, “The most important thing in the world. Nothing else really matters, does it?”
He nodded slowly and finally looked up. “I suppose
