A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business #2) - Barbara Elsborg Page 0,65
“I can manage with the slow speech, with forgetting things sometimes, but I miss my mobility. I miss waking up and thinking—I’ll go surfing with Jonty today, or riding with him.” Oh God, I miss him. But he wasn’t what he missed the most. Normality was what he missed.
“You should stop blaming him for what happened.”
“I know.”
“You’re lucky to have a friend like him. I envy you.”
“Don’t you have any friends?”
Ink shook his head.
“I don’t understand why you haven’t had boyfriends.”
“For some of the same reasons you haven’t. Easier and safer to be straight. When I gave up on that, I wasn’t much of a catch. A guy without a home or a job? A guy who likes to keep moving?”
“Doesn’t that get you down?”
“I’m a believer in the premise that when things look bleak, even hopeless, there’ll be something better around the next corner. Maybe not the answer to every problem, but enough sunshine to make life worth living. Everyone should think that.”
“Why?”
“Because once you take hope away from those at the bottom, what can you look forward to, apart from a long shitty life in the same place? Maybe it will be a shitty life, but you shouldn’t live thinking that. There’ll be problems ahead because there always are, no one’s life is perfect, but it is too short to fixate on stuff that’s wrong. Even if happiness is fleeting, it’s still happiness, something to hang on to, something to remember when times are bad.”
Tay felt happy now, but was afraid to admit it, as if saying it would cause his fragile joy to crumble.
“I’m finding it really hard not to ask you questions,” Tay whispered. “Because it’s obvious something bad has happened to you, so bad that you don’t seem able to stop running. Chasing happiness? What do you do when you find it? Can’t you stop?”
“Moving on is in my blood. My parents were from Irish travelling families. Pavees. It means the walking people. After the Second World War, my grandfathers came over from Ireland to build motorways, married, and stayed in this country, but they kept travelling. My father and mother met at a horse fair. Eventually, they decided to settle in a house. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone about our history because of the prejudice against us. But people found out. They always do.”
“Did you ever live in a caravan?”
“Yep, when my dad worked with the fair. He owned two carousels, one for grownups and one for kids. His brother, my Uncle Felan, owned the big wheel. I always thought I’d be part of the fair, but— What does your father do?”
“Runs a haulage company.”
“And he didn’t want you to work in the business with him?”
“He asked. I said no and he was fine with that.”
“My dad never listened to no.”
Ink’s eyes kept fluttering closed and Tay sat quietly by his side as he fell asleep.
IT WAS TWO DAYS BEFORE Ink looked and sounded more like himself. Tay was relieved. He’d been so worried about Ink, it had stopped him worrying about himself.
“Want to go to the cinema today?” Ink asked.
“Yep. What sort of films do you like to watch?”
“I don’t mind.”
“How does this sound? It’s called Taking Stock and it’s about people getting locked into a massive supermarket, having to live there and becoming part of an alien reality show. It’s a romantic comedy.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll get an Uber there and back. I don’t want you pushing me. I can manage on my crutches.”
THE FILM WAS GOOD, BUT Ink holding his hand was even better. When Ink stroked Tay’s fingers, he got an erection and lost track of what was happening on the screen. Ink fed him chocolate buttons bought by Tay at Ink’s request, and Ink’s fingers lingered close to Tay’s lips and tongue as he pressed the circle of chocolate into Tay’s mouth. Too tempting. Tay licked and sucked at Ink’s fingers and heard Ink’s shaky exhalation. Tay’s heart was racing and a powerful all-consuming rush of desire made him want to get Ink somewhere private and…do things to him…have things done to him…over and over.
Ink pushed another chocolate button into Tay’s mouth. Oh God. Tay couldn’t remember ever having felt so horny. Except he could. When Ink had given him a massage, when they’d been out in the garden rubbing suntan lotion over each other, when he’d woken lying next to him. Fuck it, I only have to look at him.
He tried to concentrate on the film but his mind kept