Page 30 of Imperfect Skin

“Anybody hurt?”

“No, only Sam’s pride. Silly bugger tried to avoid hitting a damn badger and the trailer jackknifed. Ambos are checking him over, and he should be alright, but the road’s a mess.” Don squinted through the open window, looking at me. “You okay, Mouse? Looks like you’ve been in the wars yourself, mate.”

I nodded, taking short breaths, trying not to focus on the flashing blue lights and police cars. It was a scene too close to the past. My voice sounded rough as I spoke. “Yeah, this is just bringing back some bad memories.” I saw no point in lying. The crash and Mum’s death were no secret, even though it had happened over nine years ago.

Donald nodded, but his hazel eyes narrowed when he saw my bruises. “What happened to you, then?”

“Pub fight. Went out drinking with some mates in York last night. Some wankers tried to start something, and you know lads fired up on lager and ego,” I answered, giving a shrug. Donald seemed to buy it and he turned his attention towards Cal.

“You can turn off just ahead. If you follow the lane for a couple of miles it will bring you back round, past the accident.”

“I know that lane. Used to go parking there as a lad.” I could hear the smile in Cal’s voice. Donald gave a deep chuckle and patted the top of the car.

“I’ll see you both at the Lion during the week. Drive safe.” Donald wandered back off towards the other coppers, giving us a wave as we drove past.

I kept my face turned to Callum, trying to stave off the panic I felt bubbling up in my chest. My thoughts kept drifting back to the crash, to the smell of burning, and Mum.

“Mouse? Focus on me, lad. I want you to tell me what you see now.” Callum’s calm voice was an anchor, helping me to focus and not give in to the sinking, swirling feelings in my head.

I blinked rapidly, looking out at the fields, the crash now behind us. “Um, hedgerows, tilled fields… uh, a cow that looks like Simon.”

Cal barked out a laugh and slowed the car as we passed the large Highland bull. Its rusty red hair did look an awful lot like Simon’s.

My chest still felt like it was caught in a vice, and my head was pounding.

I smelled smoke.

“Lad, what are you feeling?”

“I smell smoke, it’s—I know it’s not the car, but I smell it.”

“I know, lad. I smell it too. Look over that hedge. See the plume of smoke? That is the Buttler’s place, and I bet they have their brick kiln going. They make all those fancy, handmade bricks that all the rich nobs want for their fancy garden walls.”

I looked to where Callum pointed and saw the smoke curling up. My thoughts kept slipping, but Callum kept talking, his gruff voice a constant anchor keeping me from spiralling. I was barely aware of the car pulling into the driveway until Cal had my door open and his arms around me.

“Come on, little Mouse, let’s get you inside.” Cal lifted me out of the car like I weighed nothing, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, hiding my face against his warm skin. I expected him to put me down once we reached the front door. Instead, he chuckled softly.

“You don’t happen to have your key on you, do you?”

I nodded and let go of Cal’s neck long enough to pull my keychain out and fumble a bit with the lock while Cal held me. I wondered at what point being babied like this would start to annoy me, but for now, I felt safe and warm.

Cal kicked the door shut behind us. Once we were inside, he carried me through to the kitchen and set me down on one of the stools.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot drink, then a nap.”

That sounded like heaven right now. My back was starting to ache, and the headache that had started in the car had only gotten worse. I nodded, pulling my hoodie around me tighter.

“Been a while since you had one of those attacks.” Cal spoke as he bustled about the kitchen, filling a saucepan with milk and turning the gas hob on. I didn’t know why he didn’t just shove the milk in the microwave to heat it, instead doing the same as my mum had done and heating it in a saucepan.

“Yeah, my head’s a mess.” I slumped down on the stool, exhausted. I laid my arms along the counter. “I kind of want to hide from the world right now.” I rested my head on my arms and watched Callum moving about the kitchen, grabbing mugs and hot cocoa powder.

Callum stopped spooning chocolate powder into the mugs and gave me a thoughtful look. “Feel up to having that talk?” He tapped the spoon on the mug, then turned back to the hob to grab the milk.

“Yeah, we probably should.” How was Callum going to react once I opened up to him? Would he be disappointed? Disgusted? I didn’t think so, but I was afraid that any chance I might have with Cal would evaporate as soon as I started to talk.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to head upstairs and get changed into your PJs, grab your bear, and meet me in the sitting room.”

Callum’s tone was all Daddy, and I found myself nodding without even realising it.

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