Page 63 of Playing to Win

He did not like feeling helpless, unless it was in Colin’s arms.

Andrew sent a quick text to John.Just talked to Colin about his mum. Look after him for me, would you?

While waiting for a reply, he leaned on the gallery railing and watched his parents on the ballroom floor below as they led the eightsome through “Speed the Plough,” which his mum called the Inverness Country Dance, out of loyalty to her home city. Their faces glowed with exertion and laughter. His mother never looked so radiant as when she danced.

His phone buzzed with a text from John:

Don’t worry, mate, we’ve got him sorted. I’m pure raging at her. I get she’s ill, but of all days.

Andrew frowned as he replied,What do you mean, of all days?

Then he ripped his eyes off the phone screen and looked out over the ballroom again. He remembered peering through this banister when he was too small to participate, brought here with the other children to watch for a short time before being bustled off to their hotel beds. How entranced he’d been with the entire spectacle, how overcome with love and admiration for not only his parents, but his teenaged brother and sister.

Finally John’s reply came through:

He didn’t tell you? It’s his fucking BIRTHDAY. Colin’s mum left him on his birthday.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

“WEWEREALLpure frantic.”

Sitting on Andrew’s couch, Colin stared straight ahead at the once-broken window pane. It was easier to talk about this without looking at Andrew’s sympathetic face.

“I’m sure you were, having no idea where she’d got to.” Andrew stretched out his legs, taking up the other two thirds of the sofa while balancing his plate on his lap. He seemed to be enjoying the takeaway pizza and six-pack of Tennent’s as much as the gourmet food he’d cooked last week. Colin’s dad had given him money to buy tonight’s dinner, as a much-needed solace after his mum’s latest “detachment,” a word that always made Colin imagine a spaceship un-docking from a space station.

“So finally I gave my Aunt Rose a call—she’s not my real auntie, just a friend-of-the-family auntie. She lived in our block before her husband got a job up in Aberdeen. Sometimes she’d look after me and Emma when—”when Mum needed Dad to be her parent.“Anyway, I figured Rose cannae help search for Mum from long distance, but at least she should know.” Colin sucked a spot of pizza sauce off his thumb. “I was like, ‘Rose, Mum’s gone,’ and Rose was like, ‘What? No, she’s right here.’”

Andrew gaped at him, the beer bottle poised near his lips. “She went to Aberdeen when she left hospital? That’s like a three-hour drive.”

“Rose said Mum phoned from the bus station saying, ‘Come and fetch me.’ Said Mum told her that Dad and the rest of us knew about it.”

“Did you speak to your mother?”

“No. I didn’t want to.”I still don’t.“I wish she could’ve seen Emma’s face when she found out Mum was gone. Poor wee lass nearly had an asthma attack, she was so upset. She woke up screaming at ten past three this morning, said she’d a nightmare where Mum showed up at our flat in a Godzilla suit. Which sounds funny, I know, but I guess in the dream it was pure scary.” Colin picked at the mushrooms on his pizza slice, remembering how he’d sat at Emma’s bedside until dawn, telling her aimless, never-ending stories until she dozed off again near sunrise.

“How long is your mum staying in Aberdeen?”

“Until Rose gets sick of her. So, three or four days at the outside.” He attempted a smirk to show he was kidding, but it felt more like a sneer. “Wherever Mum goes, I don’t think it’ll be here. I think she might be shot of us.”

“I can’t imagine how you must feel right now.”

“Neither can I.”OrifI feel.“I’d never say this to Emma or my dad, but…I’m kinda relieved Mum’s gone. Things were always easier when she was in hospital—not financially, obviously, but in here.” He poked the side of his own head. “Nae slinking about, praying she won’t notice us, in case our footsteps—or, I don’t know, ourfaces—set her off. When she’s gone, we just walk about the flat like normal people. We can say anything we’re thinking.” He shoved the pizza into his mouth. “Sorry, this must be boring.”

Andrew simply shook his head.

“Nah,” Colin said, “you probably adore discovering all my weaknesses so you can use them against me.”

Andrew just looked at him, his face soft, his eyes sincere.

Colin slapped Andrew’s foot with the back of his hand. “Fucking say something.”

“I talk too much. It’s your turn.”

“I’m done.”

“You sure?”

“No.” He gnawed on the end of the pizza crust, then swallowed before speaking again. “I don’t want to be a whinger. Everyone’s got problems. I’m an adult, I’m not some four-year-old wean left behind in a shopping trolley.”

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