had terminated her pregnancy, and he knew exactly what to say. He looked over at Liv, who was laughing and crying, and nodded at her. ‘Look how happy she is.’
And then the two groups became one as the women rushed over to join the men. Dean was jolted from side to side, hugged around the neck, kissed and cried on . . . and he was happy.
Much later that night, and twenty minutes down the road, Ben lay in bed staring at the Avengers clock on his bedside table. It was almost midnight. He thought about the smell of engine oil, the sharp whine of the rattle gun and the button he’d pushed that had raised a car into the air. He imagined that was how easy it was for the Hulk – he lifted cars over his head as if they weighed nothing. Dean’s face came to mind, kind and patient, and Ben wriggled deeper into his bed. Nina and Rowan were so lucky. Their dad was so nice. Ben’s dad was . . . not.
His mum didn’t seem to like Dean as much as he did, but grown-ups were weird, and they were always dealing with stuff that he apparently wasn’t old enough to know about. Thirteen would surely bring all the answers. Twelve was just an endless assault of questions.
A line of light shone beneath the curtains and moved left to right across the roof. A moment later a car parked, the engine turned off and a door opened and closed. Ben listened to the familiar beat of his mother’s work heels, the jangle of keys, and then she was inside.
Ben sighed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Five
The following afternoon Dean sat opposite Alice, watching the coffee he’d brought her slowly reanimate her face. Her eyelids appeared heavy, her movements sluggish and overly considered, and when he’d walked past ten minutes ago, she’d been dozing in her chair, hand on the phone.
She was good at her job – the paperwork process had been improved, the phone was getting answered, bookings were being made, followed up on and assigned to the best mechanic for the job, but something was weighing her down and wearing her out.
Dean was trying to mind his own business, but it wasn’t easy.
Each time Alice lifted the mug to her lips, it was as an addict might – jerkily, a little needy.
‘I noticed you didn’t bring lunch in today,’ he said, propping his elbows on his knees. ‘Did you want to grab a bite with me at the pub?’
She swallowed and lowered the mug. ‘You want to have lunch with me?’
‘Only if you want to have lunch with me.’
Her hesitation made him draw away. His smile slipped.
‘Of course I do,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sorry. Lunch together sounds nice.’ She glanced at the phone. ‘Will it be okay to be away from the desk for so long?’
Appeased, he got to his feet. ‘Forward the phone, it’ll be fine. If your boss gives you a hard time about it, let me know and I’ll sort him out.’
He liked her smile, the way it started on one side of her mouth then moved to the other.
Alice stood and excused herself to put the mug in the kitchen. As he waited, Dean took their jackets down from the hooks by the front door. Rain crashed against the roof – more roar than rhythm – and water tumbled down the windows. It had been a miserable day so far, but things were looking up.
When she returned, Dean held up a set of keys with a gaudy heart keychain. ‘Let’s take the Yaris. There’s a noise I want to listen to.’
Alice nodded, retrieved her handbag from under the desk then joined him at the door which led to the garage. He helped her into her jacket then led the way to Meredith’s dirty red car.
When he got behind the wheel, he gagged. An overbearing, sickly scent filled the small space. Tossed on the passenger side floor among various bits of rubbish, make-up products and shoes was a cheap perfume can labelled Sex-bomb Strawberry. Dean reached over and cleared a space so Alice could get in. As she looked over at him, his disgusted expression made her laugh.
‘How can she bear
And then the two groups became one as the women rushed over to join the men. Dean was jolted from side to side, hugged around the neck, kissed and cried on . . . and he was happy.
Much later that night, and twenty minutes down the road, Ben lay in bed staring at the Avengers clock on his bedside table. It was almost midnight. He thought about the smell of engine oil, the sharp whine of the rattle gun and the button he’d pushed that had raised a car into the air. He imagined that was how easy it was for the Hulk – he lifted cars over his head as if they weighed nothing. Dean’s face came to mind, kind and patient, and Ben wriggled deeper into his bed. Nina and Rowan were so lucky. Their dad was so nice. Ben’s dad was . . . not.
His mum didn’t seem to like Dean as much as he did, but grown-ups were weird, and they were always dealing with stuff that he apparently wasn’t old enough to know about. Thirteen would surely bring all the answers. Twelve was just an endless assault of questions.
A line of light shone beneath the curtains and moved left to right across the roof. A moment later a car parked, the engine turned off and a door opened and closed. Ben listened to the familiar beat of his mother’s work heels, the jangle of keys, and then she was inside.
Ben sighed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Five
The following afternoon Dean sat opposite Alice, watching the coffee he’d brought her slowly reanimate her face. Her eyelids appeared heavy, her movements sluggish and overly considered, and when he’d walked past ten minutes ago, she’d been dozing in her chair, hand on the phone.
She was good at her job – the paperwork process had been improved, the phone was getting answered, bookings were being made, followed up on and assigned to the best mechanic for the job, but something was weighing her down and wearing her out.
Dean was trying to mind his own business, but it wasn’t easy.
Each time Alice lifted the mug to her lips, it was as an addict might – jerkily, a little needy.
‘I noticed you didn’t bring lunch in today,’ he said, propping his elbows on his knees. ‘Did you want to grab a bite with me at the pub?’
She swallowed and lowered the mug. ‘You want to have lunch with me?’
‘Only if you want to have lunch with me.’
Her hesitation made him draw away. His smile slipped.
‘Of course I do,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sorry. Lunch together sounds nice.’ She glanced at the phone. ‘Will it be okay to be away from the desk for so long?’
Appeased, he got to his feet. ‘Forward the phone, it’ll be fine. If your boss gives you a hard time about it, let me know and I’ll sort him out.’
He liked her smile, the way it started on one side of her mouth then moved to the other.
Alice stood and excused herself to put the mug in the kitchen. As he waited, Dean took their jackets down from the hooks by the front door. Rain crashed against the roof – more roar than rhythm – and water tumbled down the windows. It had been a miserable day so far, but things were looking up.
When she returned, Dean held up a set of keys with a gaudy heart keychain. ‘Let’s take the Yaris. There’s a noise I want to listen to.’
Alice nodded, retrieved her handbag from under the desk then joined him at the door which led to the garage. He helped her into her jacket then led the way to Meredith’s dirty red car.
When he got behind the wheel, he gagged. An overbearing, sickly scent filled the small space. Tossed on the passenger side floor among various bits of rubbish, make-up products and shoes was a cheap perfume can labelled Sex-bomb Strawberry. Dean reached over and cleared a space so Alice could get in. As she looked over at him, his disgusted expression made her laugh.
‘How can she bear
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