own since living in a long line of places they didn’t belong. Instinctively, he knew that he wouldn’t belong there either, that he would be handing Mum over, erasing everything they had been through. If he wasn’t there to look after her, why was he there at all? She wouldn’t need him any more.
And if things went south with Dave, and they had to start all over again . . .
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ he said.
Although Dave looked disappointed, he didn’t push it any further. He was so decent it was almost annoying.
‘What about Jordan?’ Wesley asked.
Dave sighed, like he’d made a decision he knew would come back to haunt him. ‘We’re going to talk about it. All of us. Speaking of which . . .’
He pointed to the road, where an Uber had just pulled up. Mum emerged from the back, throwing them a wave, leading Evie out after her. From the front, carrying a short stack of pizza boxes, came Jordan.
‘There’s my working boy!’ said Mum, slipping between the cars to plant a kiss on Wesley’s cheek, before doing the same to Dave.
‘You make me sound like a rent boy,’ he said.
Thankfully she wasn’t wearing any rings, so the smack to the back of the head didn’t hurt too much.
‘I thought we were meeting you at home?’ said Dave.
‘You can drive us back, can’t you?’
‘Pizza is the best excuse to finish early.’
‘Pizza!’ said Evie.
Briefly, Wesley wondered if there might be a chance to sneak inside while they talked and pocket a set of car keys before anybody noticed.
‘I hope you’ve worked up an appetite,’ said Mum.
Dave smacked him on the back. ‘He’s a hard worker.’
Mum beamed, and there was the pride again, welling up like struck oil. He caught Jordan’s eye, who had joined them with the pizzas, but looked away before he could catch his expression.
‘Going cold,’ said Jordan.
‘Pizza!’ reiterated Evie, jumping at the boxes.
While the others waited by Dave’s car, Wesley watched him lock up: paperwork filed away, lockbox sealed, before closing the office itself. The keys went straight into the right pocket of his leather jacket.
When he joined them at the car, he found Jordan watching him, but it had to be paranoia that said he looked suspicious. Wesley pushed past him, almost unbalancing the pizzas, and closed himself in the front seat of the car.
26
Fake News Crocodiles
Wesley listened to the washing machine whirring in the kitchen, the bag of dirty laundry Jordan had produced as soon as they got home the surest sign of all that things between them were changing.
Sitting and squabbling over pizza together felt like being a family again, until he realised there was no again. They had never felt like a family. A unit. Anything whole. This might have been the closest they had ever managed.
There weren’t enough seats for everybody in the front room. Wesley was on the floor while Mum and Dave sat wedged together on the sofa, Evie balanced between their laps. The armchair was taken by Jordan, separating him from the others, but he leaned over the arm while he told his story as if trying to be as close to them as he could.
‘There was this guy in my hostel in Darwin who believed crocodiles are a hoax. Like, actually believed these five-metre killing machines were made up by the Australian government to attract tourists.’ Jordan took a bite of pizza, cheese sticking between his teeth. ‘So a bunch of us decided to take him out and prove him wrong.’
Dave covered Evie’s ears, predicting the story was going nowhere good.
‘We drive him to this billabong in the outback which is famous for having loads of crocs, so of course when we turn up there isn’t one in sight. This guy starts ranting about how we’re gullible idiots, how we’ve fallen for “fake news crocodiles”, and he goes and stands right at the edge of the water.’
Wesley had never left the south of England, but even he knew that was a bad idea.
‘Bear in mind they tell you never to go within five metres of any water like that because crocs can jump their body length. And I swear,’ said Jordan, almost certainly meaning it was made up, ‘this guy pulls down his pants and starts mooning the water.’
Everybody but Evie, ears still covered, had stopped eating, waiting rapt for what happened next. Wesley was no exception. He couldn’t deny his brother’s natural charisma, his ability to fit in and belong wherever in the