Page 40 of Vine

“Oh, okay. My bad.”

The next item was my medium-sized wood chisel. I doubted she knew where that lived, but instead of asking, made an executive decision and put it on the top rack of my open toolbox next to my socket set.

A bomb exploded in my head. “In the cupboard by the door!”

Éti sighed, as if I was the one getting it wrong, not her. “It would be so much quicker and easier if you helped.”

On her hands and knees, she dragged one of my boots from under the table, putting it with the other but at a slight angle. My leg jiggled. It jiggled even more when she lined them up to the right of the front door instead of the left. She’d piece together the two shattered plates next; she’d string that out for hours. “If you aren’t joining in because you haven’t yet got it all out of your system, then Nico says there are fifty oyster pouches out on the Ars beds that need tossing before the end of the week.”

“It’s not that! I’m too… too… sad to join in.”

“Oh, Maxi, don’t be sad, my love. Please let me help.”

Defeated, for the first time in over a year, I gave into the urge to rock. I rocked from side to side, not back to front, and with my eyes closed. More volition than compulsion. It started as a child. When I became overwrought, my mum would send me to bed for some ‘me time’, which initially felt like a punishment and then became a treat. I’d lie there, rocking gently towards the window and then away from it, feeling my pulse slow and my breath even out. My thoughts would wander to a distant place. I’d construct elaborate fantasies in my mind, then bore my mum with them afterward, about other worlds, other galaxies with many moons, with humming tides, with boats like spaceships and fish like giant monsters.

Naturally, as I grew older, my rocking sessions culminated in a calming wank. I didn’t bore my mum with the details of those.

Now my rocking spirit friend took me to another universe, as much a fantasy as my childhood one. To dreams of a man with cheeks as pale as bonfire smoke and lips as warm as flames. A really sad man, a man I thought might give me a chance. A vulnerable man I’d thought I could cherish and make happier.

I didn’t notice she’d stopped picking up my stuff.

When I opened my eyes, Éti was on her knees at my feet and holding my restless hands in hers. “Let us help you, Max, my love. We’re so worried.”

I turned my head to the side and carried on rocking. I knew adults looked stupid doing stuff like this, but I didn’t care. I was stupid. A stupid idiot for thinking a person as beautiful asla mer Caspiennewould ever belong to a man like me.

“I just wanted him to like me.”

“Who? This Caspian person?”

“He’s notthis Caspian person. He’smyCaspian person, and I thought he liked me, but all the time he was lying.”

“Have you had a falling out?”

“No. But I hate him now. He pretended to be alone and unhappy, but he hid things from me. And I found out.”

“Max.” Éti trapped me with her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! You all think I’m going to do something bad, and I won’t! I didn’t! I learned thePerfect Peachrules! I remembered that I had to smile with my teeth and flirt with nice words and let him pat my dog. And make him a drink when he came to see me. I’m not that stupid!”

“So what happened? Tell me everything, Max, right now, and right from the start.”

Her voice still held that stern edge, the one which made her sound angry with me. But it didn’t match the softness of her hands, nor the stroking of her thumb on my leg. Last time she’d spoken to me like this had been a long, long time ago, soon after we first met, when my mum died. Afterwards, she’d explained people used this voice when they were worried and couldn’t hide it politely. I’d been rocking then, too, but we made friends. Now she’s probably my best friend.

I missed out the very start of the story. She already knew that. “Caspian came here again, with a present for me. We talked and he patted Noir and I kissed him on his doorstep, and he didn’t mind.”

Éti’s brows pinched together. Even I could read Éti’s expressive brows.

“And then when I met him inL’Escale, I asked him if he wanted to come back to my house. And this time he kissed me back. He said I was a good kisser.”

After that first proper kiss, the little mew of helplessness Caspian made before our mouths separated had given me the best feeling in the world. Even better than tucking my pyjamas into my socks when my bed was cold in winter, or stroking someone else’s dog and the owner saying,oh, he doesn’t usually like strangers.

“I expect you are. You’re very good at most things.”

“But I didn’t crowd him. I stood back and let him breathe in between kisses.”

“Very thoughtful. You should suggest that to your brother sometime.”

“Okay, I will. And we kissed some more, and then…”

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