Page 44 of The Good Boy

“We don’t need a different list—the same list will do,” Miles says.

We stand for a moment observing the gaggle of effortlessly mingling humans.

“You look very nice, by the way,” Miles says, looking in precisely the opposite direction to my face.

“You have very nice manners,” I tell him. “Your mum would be proud.”

“She would, and I do, but I mean it,” Miles says, studying thedusty lampshade. “Anyway, come on, let’s go and talk genially to virtual strangers and pretend we are fascinated.”

There’s a second’s delay before I follow him. A second in which I try to imagine myself telling him how nice his neck looks, and then all the resultant weirdness that would surely follow. Best avoided.

“Genie!” Rory grabs my wrist and pulls me over toward the lady who was just patting his head. “Come and say hi to Mo. Did you know that her family has lived on this road since the houses were built, like five thousand years ago?”

“More like a hundred and fifty, lad.” Mo chuckles.

“Yeah, but what’s that in dog years?” Rory asks her.

“Really?” I ask. “In the same house?”

“Oh yeah, my great-great-great-granddad lived there first off. He worked on the railway. After the First World War we were able to buy the house. We handed it down. One day it will be my grandson’s. I was born in the upstairs bedroom.” Mo smiles. “That place is part of the family.”

“Isn’t that amazing?” Rory says. “To have all that history going all that way back? Like you can know that wherever you go in the world there is always somewhere you really belong.”

“That is nice,” I say. “Do you feel that when you go home, Mo?”

“Oh yes, I say hello to my nan every morning,” Mo says. “And all the others.”

“Can you see them?” Rory says. “I can see ghosts, but I don’t tell Genie. She’s funny like that.”

“I did think I saw my dad on the stairs once,” Mo says thoughtfully.

“I don’t even know where my mum is now,” Rory says, “or whomy dad is. I had about nine brothers and sisters but they could be anywhere. I just hope they got a better home than me—before Genie, that is. Genie is the best. Complicated, but good at heart, you know?”

“Oh, you poor love!” Mo hugs him spontaneously. “Genie here’s a good girl. Not one to stop and chat, but she always puts her recycling out. You make a lovely couple.”

“Ew, gross,” Rory says. “It is not like that AT ALL. We are just best friends.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” Kelly arrives from somewhere, slinging her arm around my shoulder.

“I don’t judge,” Mo says. “I heard on the radio about you young people giving up sex.”

“I never really think about that stuff,” Rory says with visible distaste. “I do think about cheese a lot.”

“I’d rather have a nice cup of tea,” Mo confesses. “Do you know, I saw some cheese and pineapple on sticks in the kitchen. And a kettle.”

“That sounds wrong, but I’m prepared to give it a try,” Rory says as Mo hooks her arm through his and leads him away.

“I need to talk to you right now,” Kelly says. “Come outside, yeah?”

“Yeah, ’course,” I say, scanning the room for Miles. He is frowning very earnestly as the two guys from number 40 explain to him why Scarborough Athletic is the best football team in the world.

“So how’s Rory doing, then?” Kelly asks once we’re outside, flopping against the wall as if she’s about to faint. “I went to the parlor but your nan said you bobbed off early.”

“He’s trying to be upbeat,” I say. “But looks like he’s going to be stuck as a human unless I find my life’s purpose, and honestly Isort of thought it was sitting down and eating crisps. I’m not sure it’s really sunk in yet. For either of us.”

“Shit,” Kelly says. “Well, you could give it a go, the life’s purpose thing? For Rory. Even if it does sound like a ploy to get you on dating apps.”

“That’s what I said!” I exclaim. “And anyway, who’s to say this is not my true life’s purpose. Me now. Just as I am. With crisps.”

---