A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business #2) - Barbara Elsborg Page 0,6
notice someone was here most of the time.”
“No,” Tay said. “If I’d wanted a flatmate, I’d be living in a shared house.”
“They live in your home, but not with you.” His mother carried on as if he’d not spoken. “You have a spare bedroom; all you’d need to do is buy a bed. We’ll buy a bed. You’re not tied into contracts. If they don’t like you, or you don’t like them, they—”
“No.”
“Then we’re not going on the trip.” She crossed her arms.
“I don’t have a spare bedroom.”
“It’s a small room, but there’s enough space for a double bed.”
“And nothing else.”
“We could use it when we come to see you, instead of staying in a hotel.”
Tay didn’t touch the leaflet. He didn’t need to look at it to know he wasn’t interested. Anyway, he wasn’t sure he had enough strength to lift his hand let alone concentrate hard enough to read. His head was pounding.
“I mean it, about not going on the trip,” his mum said. “You’re being selfish. How can we go off and enjoy ourselves when we’re worrying about whether you’ve fallen and broken like that tin of biscuits? Or if you’ve eaten that day? We can’t leave you for three months without being sure someone is looking out for you. We wouldn’t have booked the trip if we’d known you’d got rid of all the people who were coming in to help you.”
Which was why he hadn’t told them.
“What would you have done about your wheelchair if we hadn’t been coming down?” She stared at him. “I can’t ask either of your sisters to help you now they have young children. If you’d stayed in Northumberland, at least they could have visited, but no, you wanted to come to London. You don’t even know anyone here.”
Tay stayed silent.
She leaned forward. “You had a traumatic brain injury, Tay. Damaged both sides of your brain. You’re allowed to take as much time as you need to get better. You’re allowed to require a bit of help, some company. Agree to this or I’ll cancel our trip.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Then stop acting like a baby. You need help.”
Tay wanted to say no again, but forced “Fine” from his mouth.
“Give me your phone.”
He struggled to get his phone out of his pocket, then threw it on the table so it almost skidded off.
His mother gave him a disapproving look, and tapped in the number. “I’ve put it under Helper. Call them. Arrange for someone to come and see you. Promise me.”
“I promise.” He’d let someone come, he’d even choose a helper, then sack them once this pair were on the ship. Nothing they could do then.
“If we feel the need to fly back, we will,” said his mind-reader mother. “And that is both a threat and a promise.”
Shit.
She stared at him. “Maybe I’ll call them.”
“Won’t Dad wipe your backside anymore?”
That got him a snort of laughter from his father and a quick smile from his mother.
“Have you done your exercises today?” she asked.
“I changed the channel three times on the TV. Twice more than yesterday.”
“Tay!”
“Yes, I’ve done sit ups and stuff.” Don’t ask me for details.
She made Tay a cheese sandwich before they left for their hotel, and he took a bite, just to prove he was eating. But when he heard the door of his flat close, he pushed the plate aside. It wasn’t food he needed; it was something to get rid of the pain in his head. He shouldn’t have let his supplies fall so low, but knowing his parents were calling in on their way to Southampton, he didn’t want his mother discovering what he didn’t want her to find. He’d also cut down on the number of tablets he’d been taking, so he didn’t appear spaced out. But he was paying the price and so had the biscuits.
He picked up his phone and scrolled to the number he’d stored under pharmacy.
“Yo, my man,” Lennie said. “What can I do for you, Tay Boy?”
Bloody twat. “The usual. Delivered.”
“A hundred in cash. Plus twenty for delivery.”
Shit. Bit late to remember that since he’d insisted on paying his mother for the cleaning supplies and food, he wouldn’t have enough cash. “When?”
“Two hours.”
“Okay.”
Lennie rang off. Two hours should give Tay long enough to get to the cash machine a couple of streets away. He levered himself upright and the room started to wobble. If he wanted the world to stop spinning, and the pain to go away, he had