it.” Tay raised his eyebrows.
“I’m just wondering if you’ve picked interview questions off the internet. What’s your opinion of weathervanes? You’ve been given a tiger. You can’t sell it or give it away. What would you do with it? How would you handle someone who wants to destroy you?”
“And what are your answers?”
Shit. “I can tell wind direction without a weathervane. I’d loan the tiger to a zoo until I could raise money to send it back to where it came from. If someone wants to destroy me, I’d run and not stop. And I’ve never killed anyone. Not directly anyway. That I’m aware of.”
“What does that mean?”
“Who’s to know what effect your actions have once you’ve moved on? Isn’t it the chaos theory thing? I mean, I might have smiled at some guy on the street and offered him a coffee and a sausage roll, and eventually he smiled back, but his jealous ex saw the exchange and decided to teach him a lesson, and once I’d gone, he thumped him and someone came to his defence, but that guy ended up getting pushed over, hit his head on a metal bench, and died later in hospital. I’d probably never have known.”
“Trying to give me a plot for a book?”
“You’d have to be desperate to use that.”
“Have you read any of my books?”
Ink wouldn’t risk a lie. Too easy to get caught out. “No.”
“Do you read?”
Twat. “I just finished a Mr Men book last week. Mr Annoying. Next one on my list is Mr Arsehole. Not sure whether to buy Mr Dickhead or not.”
Was that a laugh?
“I haven’t written any books,” Tay said.
Ink bristled. “So that was a test. Did I pass?”
“Two guys said they’d heard of me.”
Ink huffed.
“Do you always tell the truth?”
“No. And yes.”
Tay chuckled. “What jobs have you done?”
“Farmhand. Among many other things.”
“And that qualifies you to be my live-in…support worker?”
“I know just what to do if a lamb gets stuck in your birthing canal. Well no, that’s not quite true. I know when to call the vet.”
That was definitely a laugh.
“Can you cook?”
“Simple stuff, yes.” They’d taught him, though he’d not had the chance to cook for ages.
“Do you have any annoying habits?”
“Probably.”
“Such as? Like to share a few?”
“Not really. Everyone has annoying habits, but not everyone finds them annoying.” Did that make sense?
“If we’re living in the same house and sharing a bathroom, I need to know if you’re going to drive me mad.”
“I probably will, but I’ll make you laugh.” Get this job! Was it even a possibility? “I know when to keep my mouth shut.” And when to open it, but maybe this wasn’t the time to tell him that. “I’m good at sorting, cleaning, tidying. I’m pretty good at doing as I’m told.” Christ, he’d quickly learned that lesson. “And I’m honest.” When necessary.
“My parents will want to know everything about you.”
“Oh shit, and I forgot to take my how-to-withstand-intense-interrogation pill this morning.”
Tay sniggered. “When could you start?”
“Now?” Ink’s heart did a little jump until he reminded himself that he hadn’t been sent by Helper and it would be a miracle if this turned into a job.
“You need to go back to Lewisham to get your stuff?”
“No.”
“Do you want the job?”
“Yes.”
“But…” Tay sounded different. Less confident? “Do you want to work for me?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“Think you can put up with all my crap?”
“Eh… You can wipe your own backside.”
Tay let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, I can. I should warn you, the spare bedroom is tiny and my mother wants to put a double bed in there.”
“I’ll sell my grand piano.”
Tay smiled. “Would you call my parents in?”
Ink pulled open the door and went back to the main room. “He wants to see you.”
They followed him. Ink noticed that Dog stayed where he was, already making himself at home.
“I’ll have him,” Tay said.
“He wasn’t sent by Helper,” said the woman. “I just checked.”
Oh shit.
Tay stared at him. “I don’t care.”
Ink’s mouth lost moisture.
“I do.” His father glared at Ink. “He’s just some homeless guy who happened to be walking past and latched onto the group. He’s probably working out what he can steal.”
“I don’t have anything worth stealing,” Tay said.
“Your laptop?” His father raised his eyebrows.
Ink shrugged. “Pffft. Two a penny. Got any gold cufflinks, a Rolex, or a first edition of Mr Dickhead?”
Tay laughed loudly, and from the way his parents looked at him, it wasn’t something they heard often.
“I want him,” Tay said.
“No.” His father shook his head. “He has