Page 44 of Something Borrowed

“Rafferty, please keep Stan safe,” he says in a tone of voice that makes me want to scream. “You influence him into making bad choices. You need to be better.”

“That sentence sounds like it should have a hashtag attached to it,” Raff says, and I can detect a tiny note of tension in his voice.

“You know that I’m right.”

Raff’s tone is chilly when he speaks again. “Stan makes his own choices in life. He’s not quite your Stepford wife yet.”

“What?” I say.

He continues, and I can hear the animosity bristling in his voice. “Stan’s a grown man who makes up his own mind what he wants to do. He doesn’t want or need me to wrap him in cotton wool. He’s more capable than you and I put together. I’ll always look out for him, but it’s not because he’s blind. It’s because he’s my best friend.”

“I think we should try to consider Stan’s feelings and stop this argument. You’re rather confrontational this afternoon, Rafferty. Maybe it’s youthful high spirits.” Bennett’s voice is pompous, and I hear an angry-sounding hiss come from where Rafferty is standing. “I’ll speak to you later, Stan,” Bennett finishes silkily.

A fraught silence falls after he’s gone.

“Are you with him because you have a kink for boring headmaster porn?” Raff enquires.

I snort. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously. Mr Bishop was less strict than him when he suspended me from secondary school.”

“Bennett’s trying?—”

He makes a huffing noise. “I’ll say he is.Veryfucking trying. And what was that crack about me having high spirits? Maybe I shouldactuallybe high. That might make it easier to have a conversation with him.”

I feel along my chair and grab my jacket. “Forget it. We’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll miss the gig.”

“Are we dropping Hump off at the flat first?”

“We certainly are. Hump does not like jazz-funk. He prefers pop. He wants to lie down in a dark room instead.” I pause. “Which sounds extraordinarily attractive to me at the moment.”

“I’m only fighting for your honour, Stanley, but please don’t smother me with gratitude,” he says in a pious voice that makes me smile.

“How about I just smother you?”

“How very typical that all of this seems to be my fault. I might just as well wear a hair shirt.”

“Well, don’t give it to me to wash. I’ll shrink it.”

Chapter

Six

Rafferty

Once outside,we pause while Stan puts on his sunglasses. He can’t regulate his pupils, so direct sunlight can sometimes be too much for him. Then with him holding on to Hump’s harness, we set off. I spare a smile for Hump, who is alert and focused now he’s on the job.

“So, how was your day?” I ask.

Stan grimaces. “It was good up until the last fifteen minutes.”

“That wasnotmy fault.”

“Must you rise to him?”

“I think I must.” Stan snorts, his face lively with amusement. “He’s just so stuffy and bossy,” I add.

“Have you ever considered that you might like him if you tried?”

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