Deep Wate - Sarah Epstein Page 0,69

them.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘We’ll take her home. We’ll get her into bed.’

‘I can—’

‘No, love,’ Liv said gently. ‘You stay here with your friends. Enjoy your New Year’s Eve.’

Too late, Mason thought.

As the crowd dispersed, Mason sensed someone approaching quietly from one side. Chloe’s dad.

‘You all right, mate?’ he asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Things got a bit carried away over there.’

Mason’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t be bothered making something up, inventing excuses for his mother’s behaviour. What would be the point? Mr Baxter saw the whole thing. It wasn’t even eight o’clock and Mason was tired. He was exhausted by this whole year and he needed it to end.

‘Listen,’ Mr Baxter went on. ‘We mentioned to your mum earlier that we’ll bring Henry home with us and he can stay the night.’

‘Okay.’ Mason shrugged. ‘That’s probably a good idea, especially now.’

‘You want to as well?’ he asked. ‘You don’t have to stay at our place, of course – you can have one of the motel rooms.’

Mason averted his gaze again and mumbled, ‘I can’t really afford it right now.’

‘No, mate.’ Mr Baxter stepped forwards. ‘You can stay there free of charge. I’ll leave a key under the pot plant and you can come home whenever you like. Let yourself in. Room Fifteen’s usually vacant anyway; how about that one?’

Mason eyed him warily. ‘I can just stay there? For nothing?’

‘Whenever you need a bit of space from … you know. Things at home.’

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’ said Mr Baxter. ‘Soft bed, hot shower, TV. A bit of peace and quiet, eh?’

Mason’s face burned. He didn’t know where to look.

Mr Baxter shoved his hands deep into his pockets. ‘Let’s just say I could’ve used something like this when I was your age.’ He kicked the toe of his shoe against the ground. ‘It’s there if you need it. I’ll leave it vacant. We can keep this between us.’

Mason didn’t know what to say. The thought of a quiet, clean motel room, a place to hide out if he couldn’t face going home, was almost too good to be true. What was the catch? He heard his mother’s voice snarling in his head: What’s he want in return, huh? But maybe, like Stu Macleod, Chloe’s dad simply wanted to help.

‘Thanks, Mr Baxter,’ Mason managed, trying to meet his eye so he could see Mason meant it.

The older man chuckled. ‘Call me Dave, for god’s sake. No one calls me Mr Baxter except the bank manager.’

Mason half expected Mr Baxter to clap him on the shoulder or hold out a hand for him to shake. Instead the older man said, ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ and trudged away.

Mason spent the next hour on autopilot, helping out at the Nolans’ pizza stand until Liv and Sally returned, even though Raf and Sabeen insisted he didn’t need to.

‘Please,’ he begged them. ‘Your mums are taking care of my mother right now. Let me do them a favour in return.’

As time ticked closer for the fireworks to begin, Sabeen boxed three pizzas and ordered Raf to grab some drinks and the picnic rug. Liv and Sally tied their aprons back on and shunted all three of them out of the marquee. ‘Go on,’ Sally said. ‘Find your friends and enjoy yourselves.’

Mason felt ready to go home then and there. The hipflask of whisky in his jacket pocket remained untouched, and he didn’t have much appetite for pizza anyway. Even so, he followed his friends to a quieter area, away from all the families. Maybe there was a way to salvage this night. It was New Year’s Eve after all.

Sabeen made a few calls and it wasn’t long before Rina found them. Even as she pulled Mason aside to ask if he was okay, he couldn’t stop scouring the area for Tom. Where was he? Was Tom avoiding him?

Chloe turned up next, a couple of bags of chips under one arm.

‘Where’s Henry?’ Mason asked.

‘He’s with my dad and Tom’s grandparents,’ she said, ‘if you’re interested.’

‘I just asked, didn’t I?’

‘Guys?’ Sabeen said hopefully. ‘Why don’t we all sit down and have some pizza?’

Chloe walked past Mason towards the rug, not bothering to make eye contact. ‘Might have been good to check on him an hour ago,’ she said.

‘I was kind of busy an hour ago.’

‘Yeah,’ she said dryly, placing the chip bags on the rug. ‘I saw. We all did.’

Mason’s jaw clenched. ‘You got something to say, Chloe?’

She made a quiet scoffing noise.

‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘Spit it out.’

Tom, of course, chose this exact