Page 56 of The Good Boy

“Not a hundred percent sure about that analogy,” I tell him, “but either way, the next time you see a squirrel you’ve just got to let it go, Rory, okay? Take a deep breath and let it go...”

I’m secretly trying this policy in my bid to stop wanting to snog my neighbor and good friend who is about to have an office romance with a colleague. Because when has that plan ever gone wrong?

Miles went back to work after the walk, and we went back to the parlor. We didn’t talk about Claudia anymore. Probably just as well.

“But their horrible little hands, and their nasty fangs, and they could have rabies...” Rory is still going on about squirrels.

“Rory, let it go,” I tell him firmly as he goes into the kitchen in search of predinner snacks. “Let. It. Go.”

I will take my own advice. Iwilltake my own advice. I will.

Something in the garden catches my eye and I look out the back window. The golden light of a perfect summer evening makes everything beautiful. Miles is standing on a ladder fiddling about with something in his cherry tree.

“What’s all this, then?” I call as I head out, leaving Rory with a packet of digestives. Miles’s head and shoulders appear over the fence.

“When I was on the way home I saw these Christmas lights on sale,” he tells me, showing me a length of those old-fashioned lights with the big colored bulbs. “We used to have lights just like this when I was a kid. Mum would hang them across the balcony of our flat, and on the way home from school I could see them twinkling on the twenty-third floor. I know it’s not Christmas, but I was thinking about what you said, how you’d like some garden lighting, and I thought, Well, this can work for both of us... Do you mind?”

“No, I love them!” I drag my garden chair over and stand on it to get a better look. “It will be so pretty.”

He nods with satisfaction as he weaves the lights in and out of the branches.

“I miss Mum a lot right now,” he says, as he studies his handiwork.

“Any reason,” I ask, “why you are missing your mum so much right now?”

He looks at me across the top of the fence.

“I’d really like to ask her advice on a few things,” he says, lowering his gaze. “I tie myself up in knots trying to figure stuff out, sometimes. Mum had a way of making it all clear for me. I miss that. And her smile. And her cooking.” He laughs a little. “Not her singing, though.”

“Don’t they look lovely?” A pretty blond girl, around twenty-five, comes out of the back door carrying two glasses of Coke. “Oh, hello, you must be Genie, I’ve heard all about you!”

“And you must be Claudia-from-work,” I say brightly. “I’ve heard all about you too.”

“Claudia offered to help me get the lights up,” Miles says.

“Isn’t it a lovely idea?” Claudia says, flicking her long hair off her creamy shoulders. “Christmas lights in August? It’s crazy, I love it!”

“Well.” Miles hops off his chair. “Just a bit of fun, nothing more, really.”

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you,” I tell Claudia with my most genuine fake smile. “And Miles, I think you are doing just fine. Your mum would be proud of you. But I’ve got to get going. I’m doing a stakeout with Kelly to help her sort out her marital problems.”

“Wait a moment while I switch these on,” Miles asks. “Then you can give me your final verdict.”

A few seconds later the trees’ leaves glow with colored light that scatters across the grass and fence, making everything in their path a kaleidoscope.

“It looks like disco fireflies have moved in,” I say as Miles’s head appears over the fence again. “I love them, Miles. I love them a lot.”

We smile at each other for a long, sweet second.

“They are perfect!” Claudia laughs, handing Miles his drink.

“Anyway,” I say, “I’ve got to go and pick up Kelly for the aforementioned undercover operation...” And I don’t know why I suggest it, but I do: “I don’t suppose you feel like joining? You might be able to give us the typical male perspective on the situation.”

Miles purses his lips.

“Tempting as the offer sounds...” he says. “I generally think you and Kelly work best as a pair, don’t want to turn your double act into a throuple.”

“Well, I’ll see you... sometime. If I’m not in prison for stalking or something.”

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