Page 24 of The Good Boy

“Want me to come?” Miles asks, sort of casual like he’s not bothered either way. I do my best to be the same when it comes to my response.

“Do you want to?”

“Might as well, I’ve got nothing else on,” he says.

“Yeah, might as well, then,” I say. “God knows I need all the help I can get.”

“That reminds me, on the way back,” Miles says. “When you and Kelly were doing ABBA’s greatest hits, I remembered something.”

“Was it your taste in music?” I ask.

“Heavy metal forever,” Miles says. “Before I came to Scarborough, when Mum was already sick?”

I nod.

“I had no idea how bad things were; she protected me as much as she could, but secretly she was getting me ready for after she’d gone.”

“Ready?” I ask gently. Miles was half my age when he lost his mum, and I know I couldn’t cope without mine now. I can’t imagine how he made it this far, and is still so... complete.

“She said it was for sixth-form college, but I realize now, it was for after she’d died. For coming up here to live with Gran. She made me a list of all the things I needed to navigate a new school, new friends.” Miles smiles as he looks up at the North Star. “My mum was so cool, Genie. You would have liked her a lot, and she would have loved you.”

The thought makes me smile.

“Mum was the sort of person that just commands every room she was in. She could hang with anyone, make friends with anyone. Change people’s minds about anything, if she wanted to. But me? I was in chess club and I read books when I wasn’t playing at being a Jedi. I had my little gang of mates and we were solid, but she must have thought I might struggle, in a new town, being thenew kid and all that. She didn’t know I’d meet you on the first day, and you’d look out for me.”

“Someone had to,” I say. “But it wasn’t all altruistic. Hanging out with a kid from Hackney got me some serious cred back then. I waswell, gangsta, innit.”

He shakes his head at my attempt at a North London accent.

“Mum made me a list to fall back on. Do’s and don’ts of getting on in life on your own. Real basic stuff, you know? After she died it was a sort of whirlwind of sadness and change. I forgot about the list until I was going to uni. Then I found it when I was packing up to go and it was a little bit like having her with me again. Stand up straight, never settle for second best, eat your veg, Miles. That list really helped me out when I was far away from home and you. It gave me the confidence to get through the door and just start a conversation with strangers. After a while I found I didn’t need it anymore.” He smiles, and I smile because he does. “I thought maybe Rory could use that list now. Or a version of it, at least. A sort of ‘how to be a human’ list.”

“Miles, that’s a wonderful idea!” Before I know it, I’ve covered his hand with mine, as I lean toward him. It stays there for a moment and I slowly withdraw it, glad that the dark is covering the blush that is creeping up my neck as I slowly sit back in my chair. “We should write it out new, though; the original must be precious to you.”

“It is,” Miles says. “Have you got a pen and some paper? I can remember it by heart, and I’ll edit it for Rory as I go.”

A few moments later I am sitting opposite Miles holding my phone torch over the paper while he writes. His head is bent in concentration, his dark lashes looking so much fuller and thickerthan they have any right to be on a boy. I like to watch him write, the way he lightly holds the pen, the movement of his hand across the paper. It’s somehow intimate. As he works that familiar feeling bubbles up in my chest again, one I’ve known on and off for a long time now.

Maybe once, a long time ago, there could have been a me and Miles. If I’d made different choices, and the things that had happened hadn’t. But if there was ever that moment, it’s long gone now and even though that version of reality never existed, sometimes I still miss it. And I’ll just have to keep on dealing with that because when it comes to love, Miles deserves someone really wonderful. Someone who’s good enough for him, and when she does finally realize that he likes her, then I’ll just have to deal with missing something I never had, just like I always have, in secret.

There’s a soft plop and a quiet padding of paws, and before I know it Matilda is sitting at my feet looking up at me, her tail swishing slowly back and forth.

“Oh god, she’s hunted me down at last,” I say.

“Hello, Matty,” Miles coos at her. “Wow, I thought she’d never come into your garden. Not these days anyway; she’s not as nimble as she used to be.”

As if to prove him wrong Matilda jumps up into my lap, turns around once and then settles down.

“What’s happening?” I ask. “Am I going to die right now?”

“You are the chosen one this evening,” Miles tells me, his face alight with pleasure. “Matilda wants you to scratch her just behind the ears.”

After another second or two I comply. Matilda is warm and soft; her breathing becomes slow and steady and after a few minutes she even starts to purr.

“I have to live in this chair now,” I tell Miles, smiling down at the elderly cat. “It’s like, it’s like being visited by royalty. Or a goddess. Wait, is she doing this just to get me into trouble with Rory?”

“Maybe,” Miles says. “But more likely she was lonely, and wanted to see what had happened to her midnight snack.”

“Am I her midnight snack?” I ask.

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