Page 19 of He's the One

“Dad!”

His dad chuckled. “There was never a more trustworthy teenager than you. You never broke a rule, never stayed out late without telling us where you were and when you’d be home. The only thing you asked was that we not make you go to church, and we didn’t. When our friends used to complain about their teenagers, your mum and I used to look at one another and smile. We were so lucky to have you.”

Col’s throat closed up. “Not as lucky as me.” He’d been on his best behaviour from the moment he’d been delivered to this house by his social worker. He’d known that at his age, opportunities to be fostered were rare. He’d hated the care home so much that he’d been determined not to put a foot wrong.

“You remember what you said when the social worker asked if you minded foster parents who had different coloured skin from you?”

He nodded. “All that matters is that they have kind hearts and don’t yell at me or at each other. And you do, and you didn’t.”

The pair of them had a moment where neither of them could speak, then his dad cleared his throat. “Coming back in for a cup of tea? Or dare you ask for coffee?”

Col smiled. “Not yet. I’m going to get my trusty chisel and set that dragon free.”

His dad laughed.

Col hadn’t realised that having stone to carve would make such a big difference to his state of mind. Excitement and enthusiasm swamped his negativity. The stone dominated his thoughts and actions. He retrieved his equipment from where he’d stored it in the garage, though not the electric tools. But if he needed power, he could run an extension cable out to the gazebo. For the time being, he’d work with his hand tools: hacksaws, mallet, chisels, points and rasps. He also brought out his safety equipment—gloves, goggles, ear protectors and dust mask.

Once he’d put a thick piece of foam onto the workbench to protect the stone, he lifted it into place. Any heavier and he’d have had to ask his dad for help. Col laid his hand on the rock. He could almost feel the creature inside waiting to breathe. The thought made him smile.

He tapped the stone, listening for a change in pitch that might indicate a crack, but it seemed fine. Then he wet it, which made potential issues easier to see, but nothing showed up as a problem.

Col chose an upbeat playlist and pulled ear protectors over the top of his earbuds. Hopefully, the sound of him chip-chip-chipping away wouldn’t drive his parents or the neighbours mad. Now he had everything set out, he stood and stared at the chunk of rock. Apart from ensuring he worked with the grain, he also needed to consider how he could best highlight the natural beauty of the material. This piece was smooth, cold and dense, and a lovely cream colour. Probably oolitic limestone that contained few fossils or shell fragments, which meant Col should be able to cut it in any direction. It was exciting to find fossilised material, but too much made the rock unworkable.

He sketched straight onto the stone with his pencil. The usual method was to cut out a template, then outline it on the rock, but this time Col didn’t need to. This image of a curled-up dragon had been in his head for a long time. He drew on all four sides, then picked up his mallet and point chisel. Now all he needed was courage. It was about time he found where that was hiding. Col brought the mallet down, the first chunk flew off and he smiled.

It was only when his dad appeared to tell him it was time for dinner, that Col realised how long he’d been out there.

“How’s it going?” his dad asked.

“Good. I’ll clean up and I’ll be in.”

He swept up the chippings and dust and tipped them into his bucket, then locked his tools in the garage, and showered before he went upstairs.

Col pulled his mum into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”

“Was that all you needed?” She smiled. “Lumps of rock?”

“Yep.”

Amazingly it was.

Though his good mood only lasted until after dinner when his phone vibrated. He didn’t recognise the number. He was going to see Dominic tomorrow so he didn’t think it would be him. But…

“Hello,” Col said.

“Don’t hang up!”

Oh fuck.Col cut Robert off and blocked the number. So much for hoping he’d given up. When he caught his mum staring, Col sighed.

“Robert?” she asked.

Col nodded. “I answer all calls in case it’s Dominic.”

“When did you last see your brother?” his dad asked.

“A while ago. I’m going tomorrow.”

His mum made a noise under her breath and Col knew that was an end to any mention of Dominic. Supportive as his parents had been, they would have preferred him to strike his brother from his life. That was never going to happen.

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