Page 139 of Pansies

“It’s…it’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be daft, man.”

For some reason, that made Fen smile, just a little.

He parked by the Grotto, same as he had last Sunday, except this time Fen was with him, not waiting for him. “Want to go down to the beach?”

Fen shook his head. Just started walking along the clifftops, his hair made wayward by the wind, the pink bits so very bright in that rough grey-and-green world. And, after a moment or two, Alfie followed.

Eventually, they came to a bit of the bay that jutted out into a sort of headland. It was here that Fen stopped and swung a leg over the barrier.

With an unmanly squeak, Alfie made a grab for him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, it’s perfectly safe.”1

“If it was perfectly safe, there wouldn’t be an obstruction.”

“It only comes up to here.” Fen knocked against the top of the railing. “It’s so little kids don’t go running off the edge.”

“But what about coastal erosion?”

One of Fen’s brows twitched. “Are you seriously telling me that you lived here for eighteen years and you always meticulously observed every health and safety ordinance issued by South Tyneside borough council?”

“Well, no, but I was stupid back then.”

All the same, Fen kind of had a point. Alfie had done all sorts of ill-advised things on top of these cliffs and still wasn’t dead. He gingerly climbed over and joined Fen.

Such a good view. Nothing but the sand and the sea and the sky. Almost like a painting, except for the way the wind moved through it, turning the clouds and the waves, stirring the grass, making every moment that passed different from the one before. Alfie knew South Shields was never going to get on a top ten of England’s most beautiful spots. Probably most people hadn’teven heard of it. But it was stuff like this you couldn’t capture—not even if you took a million photos. You just sort of had to be here and live in it. Part of the ever-changing world.

Fen was sitting cross-legged, gazing out to sea, still holding his shoebox. Dropping down beside him, Alfie nudged their shoulders together. “You see over there?” He pointed further down the coast, to where the cliffs jutted prominently into the sea. “I jumped naked off that on Christmas Eve one year.”

“Um. Why?”

“Dunno really. Kev and Pete were supposed to do it as well, but they chickened out.”

“Jesus, peoplediefalling off these cliffs.”

“Now who’s all”—he did a mock flail with his hands—“health and safety or whatever. And, anyway, I didn’t fall, I jumped.”

“You’re an idiot, Alfie Bell.”

He flung an arm across Fen’s shoulders and pulled him in tight. “Aww, you’re worried about me. In the past. That’s so sweet.”

Fen scowled. “Oh, shut up.”

“It was blummin’ awful. So cold it was like being punched. And when I got out, my balls were just gone like.”

“They were gone?”

“Yeah. Whoosh. Right up inside. I thought they were never coming back. I was fucking terrified, man.”

“Well”—a palm slid shyly over Alfie’s thigh—“they seem to have recovered.”

“They’re good.”

They were quiet a bit after that. Probably Alfie had killed the conversation with his knackers. But Fen’s hand, which was now resting against his knee, was warm, easily affectionate, and he seemed basically okay. Maybe it would have been a good time tobring up Pansies and all the stuff Aidan had said that Alfie had been carrying round with him all day, like stones in his pockets. But it was really nice, being here with Fen as the sky changed colour around them, and he’d planned out this special evening for him. And, anyway, it would have been shitty as hell to start talking about everything else he had lost, and was losing, when he was sitting there with his box of letters. So Alfie told himself he wasn’t going to feel guilty. Or worried. Or fucked up and pointlessly sad. He was just going to let things happen. Make this last a little bit longer. Even if it was only a handful of hours.

That wasn’t much, was it?

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