men in the shade.
And women would be attracted to him, she knew. Not herself, because he wasn’t the kind of man that had ever appealed to her. Too impatient, too sure of himself, too unwilling to listen. She could imagine having some interesting fights with him, but not warming to him.
‘Hey!’ Mark said suddenly.
Startled, she glanced his way with a smile, and heard the click of the camera.
‘Gotcha!’ he said.
‘Oi, cheeky!’ she said, laughing outright, and he promptly snapped her again.
‘Now look,’ he said, opening the back of the camera and extracting a tiny card. He plugged this directly into the computer and the two pictures of Evie came up side by side on the screen.
‘That’s brilliant,’ she breathed. ‘Why doesn’t it happen like that when I do it?’
Mark just grinned.
‘Yes, I know,’ she said ruefully. ‘Some of us can, and some of us can’t. They’re beautiful, Mark.’
He took a small memory stick from a drawer, connected it to the back, copied the pictures on to it, and gave it to her.
‘Just plug it into your machine when you get home,’ he said.
‘Thank you. I’ll give you this back at school.’
This wasn’t how she’d meant the conversation to go. She should be asking him why he kept vanishing and trying to understand him. But she felt that the key to understanding lay elsewhere. The friendly feeling they’d achieved would do him more good than all the talk in the world.
‘Will your father cut up rough about tonight?’ she asked gently. ‘I imagine he’s not easy to live with.’
‘He’s not so bad,’ Mark said unexpectedly. ‘He gets angry, but he’s always sorry afterwards.’
This was the last thing she had expected to hear.
‘He shouldn’t get mad at all,’ she said. ‘Why can’t he see that you’re unhappy?’
He considered this with an oddly adult expression.
‘He’s unhappy too,’ he said at last.
‘About your mother?’
‘I think so, but—there’s lots of other stuff that he can’t talk about. I used to hear him and Mum rowing—terrible things—she said he had something dark inside him, and why couldn’t he talk about it? But he said talking wouldn’t change anything, and walked out. I was watching from the stairs and I saw his face. I thought it would look angry, but it didn’t. Just terribly sad.’
‘Did he know you saw him?’
Mark shook his head. ‘He’d have hated that. He doesn’t like people to know how he feels.’
He fell silent. Then he said unexpectedly, ‘I keep wishing I could help him.’
She gave him a quick look of surprise, asking, ‘Shouldn’t he be helping you?’
‘We help each other. Well, that’s what I wish. I want to be—it’s just that—if only—’
His shoulders sagged and she saw the glint of tears on his cheeks. Evie abandoned words and took him in her arms, holding him while his shoulders shook.
‘I’m sorry,’ he sobbed.
‘You’ve nothing to be sorry about. If you’re sad you need to cry, and tell someone.’
‘There isn’t anyone,’ he sobbed. ‘Nobody understands.’
She did the only thing she could—tightened her arms and rocked back and forth, trying to comfort him.
A sound made her look up to see Justin standing in the open door. He stood dead still as though amazement had stopped him in his tracks, and she was reminded of the way he had looked at her on the terrace.
Quietly she shook her head, and he retreated without a word.
Mark seemed unaware. He freed himself and straightened up, wiping his eyes and managing a smile.
‘Sorry,’ he said again.
‘Don’t be,’ she told him.
He was obviously embarrassed, as though feeling he’d given way to an unmanly display.
Sweet heaven! she thought. He’s only twelve years old.
‘It’s getting late,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you go to bed?’
‘Will you come and say goodnight before you go?’
‘Yes, I promise.’
She gave him another hug, then went downstairs, feeling thoughtful.
Through the open door of the front room she could see Justin, and walked in.
‘Is he all right?’ Justin asked gruffly.
‘Not really. But he’s calmed down, and he’s going to bed. I promised to look in and say goodnight before I leave, but I think you should go up to him now.’
‘There’s no point,’ he said wearily. ‘This has happened before. He won’t talk to me. He hates me.’
‘He doesn’t,’ she said at once.
He looked at her sharply. ‘You know that? What did he say?’
‘I can’t tell you what he said. It’s confidential between him and me—’
‘That’s nonsense,’ he said impatiently. ‘I’m his father—’
‘And I’m the person you had to bring in to help you. I’m the one he talks to, although he said very little even to me. I’ll tell you that he doesn’t hate you. Far from it. But I won’t break his confidence. Please understand that that is final.’
‘Like hell it is!’
‘OK, throw me out!’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
For answer she pulled out her cellphone and dialled. ‘Andrew?’
Justin’s hand closed over hers, gripping her so tightly that it hurt. ‘It’s better if you stay.’
‘Really?’ she said, freeing her hand and flexing the fingers. ‘I’m glad you made your mind up about that. I can’t stand a man who dithers.’
He drew a deep breath. ‘Now Andrew will be wondering what happened. You’d better call him back.’
‘No need. I wasn’t really connected.’
‘Playing
