Page 110 of Every Silent Lie
“Good to see you too, sis.”
“Finally found time in your schedule then?”
“I didn’t come here to get earache.” He looks past me through the open door. “Is she with it today?”
“With it?”
“Talking sense?”
“She never talks sense. She’s got Alzheimer’s.”
He looks down at his watch, and I know it’s because he’s mentally calculating how little time he can get away with being here. To be honest, I’m even more surprised than I usually would be that he’s here. The weather is the perfect excuse. “I’m picking up Mindy’s present, and I’m a bit early.”
Right. He’s not gone out of his way. Not made a special trip. Mum’s just fitting into a slot that happens to have cropped up. “I’m going.” I can’t be in my brother’s orbit for longer than a minute without wanting to smash his ignorant face in.
“Hey, Cam,” he calls.
“What?” I don’t look back.
“Sign the papers, yeah?”
I stop, staring forward, trying not to let my simmering blood escalate into a full-blown boil. I did not want to do this with my brother. I truly didn’t want anyone, especially him, to take away my momentary bubble of joy. Although, I do need to know one thing. “Did you know he’s moved on?” I ask, facing him, watching his face. I might not like him, but I know him well, and the sudden thinning of his lips is a massive red flag. It means he’s about to lie. “You knew.”
“You should do the same.”
“Oh yes. Move on. Easy as that. Just forget I was a mum. Just forget my son was run down and killed. My four-year-old son.”
His wince gives me hope that he’s not a complete inconsiderate bastard. His shoulders drop. “I’m not saying forget, Cam. Moving on isn’t forgetting.”
“She’s pregnant.” I spit the words out like they’re stones choking me.
“I know.”
“She’s going to give Dominic a baby, and he’ll love that child like we loved Noah. I can’t do that, Graham. I can’t have more children. I can’t try to fill the void Noah left behind. All I can do is move forward and hope someday the pain becomes bearable.”
“It will. You should see a doctor, Cam. You’re not looking too great.”
“God, you’re a cock.” I walk out and welcome the cold blast of air that cools my temper down. “Ugh.” If brothers got medals for being dumb, mine would get the gold.
My phone ringing is the only thing that stops me from fulfilling my desire to punch my older brother, and the sight of Dec’s name lights up my world as much as it lights up my screen. “Morning.”
“Afternoon.”
I pull my phone away and check. He’s right, which means I spent much more time with Mum than I usually would. That alone is reason to smile, and now Dec’s calling. I’m ignoring the interlude of my brother. “Afternoon,” I say. “Sorry, time ran away with me unpacking a vanload of groceries from Tesco.”
“You need a Lynette.”
“Wait, did she order it?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You just completely burst my bubble.”
“I’ll reinflate it tomorrow night when you cook for me.”
“At my place?”
“Yes.”
