Page 25 of The Good Boy

“No, a bowl of tuna is,” he says. “Here.”

He pushes the piece of paper across the table to me and I shine my phone light on it, careful not to disturb Matilda.

Don’t panic! Change is hard, and it’s scary. Sometimes it feels like too much and you will want to run away and hide, but standing your ground and discovering more about the world will give you so much more. Remember you are loved, you are strong, you are kind, and you are brave. You’ve got this.

Listen. If you want to know the secret to good conversation and making friends, then learn how to really listen. Plenty of people are good at talking, but they don’t pay attention. It’s when you really hear what a person is telling you that you learn how to truly communicate.

Practice. At first everything is scary, from catching a bus to making an appointment. It’s okay to rehearse what you are going to do and say, to write it down and put a list in your pocket. Pretty soon you won’t need it anymore.

Embrace the unexpected. Sometimes things happen that you didn’t plan for, and sometimes those things are hard to bear.Don’t stand still and let circumstance direct your life for you. You can make the change that changes everything for the better.

Most people are kind, even if they don’t know how to show it. Treat everyone you meet on this basis, give them a chance. If they don’t take it, let them go.

Do not, under any circumstances, sniff another person’s or dog’s behind in public unless you have their written consent.

There are tears in my eyes by the time I’ve finished the list. I turn my face from the light, brushing them away with the heel of my hand.

“This is a good list,” I say, reaching for his hand before I think about it. “You must miss your mum a lot.”

“I do.” The evening is warm and peaceful. The dark soothes and surrounds us, hiding all our faults and frailties. Miles’s hand rests in mine and for this one perfect moment all the endless rushing thoughts that run around and around in my head are silenced. When I turn my head to look at him, I find him looking at me.

For five whole seconds I wonder what it would be like to lean forward and kiss him.

“Well, it’s getting late,” is what comes out of my stupid mouth instead.

“It is,” Miles says. He yawns and stretches, so that his muscles flex against the material of his T-shirt. “I’ve got to go to bed, Genie. I never usually stay up this late unless there’s aStar Warsmarathon at the Rex.”

Carefully he lifts Matilda out of my lap and puts her back on the fence.

“You’d better go that way, Matty,” he tells her. “Don’t think Rory could stand the shock of seeing you in his house.”

Matilda leaps down into his garden and a moment later we hear her enter through the cat flap.

“I’m knackered too.” I smile. “This was actually a pretty great night, all things considered.”

“I’m glad.” He tilts his head to one side as he looks at me for one moment more. “See you in a few hours, Genie.”

“Hope your cat doesn’t kill you in your sleep!” Rory calls out sleepily as I let Miles out the front door. Just as he’s about to leave he turns on his heel and engulfs me in a hug. It’s brief, but tight enough to make me a little giddy when he lets me go.

“Birthday hug,” Miles says with a shrug. “Annual event.”

I haven’t managed to think of a snappy reply by the time he has closed his front door behind him.

When I go back into the living room Rory is stretched the full length of the sofa with Diego clutched to his chest, fast asleep. I pull the throw over him, my heart full of complicated feelings.

There isn’t time to feel wistful about Miles. There isn’t time for might-have-beens. If there is one thing I have taught myself over the last ten years it’s that you can never go back, no matter how much you might want to. I have to focus on now. I have to focus on Rory.

I love Rory so much, you see. He is my best and goodest boy. And although I am freaked the flip out by the turn of events, the fact that he has grown into a great hulking dude hasn’t changed allthose maternal, soppy feelings. He is still the same Rory: sweet, loyal, loving, and flatulent. So I have to do what’s best for him, what he wants. Because none of this whole improbable mess is his fault. That’s what parents do, isn’t it? They love and protect, no matter what. That’s why Ihaveto get it right.

I suppose that at least now he can tell me exactly how he’s feeling.

“Is there any more toast?” Rory mutters, hugging Diego closer.

Mostly hungry, it seems. At least some things never change.

Chapter Ten

It’s been a while since I really had a hangover.

---