Paparazzi Jo Fenton (the first e reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: Jo Fenton
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“We had to change the carpets last week. I’m sure you can imagine, Becks, bringing Tilly in after a muddy walk – well, we loved our cream carpets, but they had to go. And of course, toilet training is a challenge with a young puppy. We’re getting there now – she’s nearly four months old – but honestly, it’s been a nightmare. You know me well enough to know I can’t stand mess.”
“How on earth are you managing? It’s hard enough to toilet train with a house. I don’t know how you’d do it with a flat.”
“Gray and I are taking it in turns to work from home. It’s fine most of the time.” He leaps up from his chair and grabs the dog, just as she’s about to squat in the corner. “Open that door, Becks.” He nods towards a patio door, which leads on to a decent-sized enclosed terrace with a grassy patch. He puts Tilly on the grass just in time to prevent his suede shoes from getting wet. “Thanks. She’s learning. And I don’t think we could have managed without this little garden. We’re so lucky to be on the ground floor. The upper floor balconies are a bit titchy. The only other alternative is to be on the top floor, with a roof garden, but I hate heights. Even after all this time.”
A memory surfaces: a railway bridge, with Dan as a terrified student, clinging on for dear life until I pulled him to safety.
“Trauma leaves its mark. There are a lot of things I’m scared of these days too – all because of things that have happened in the past.” I follow him and the puppy back inside.
“Is that why you left the police?” He gives Tilly a doggy treat.
“Kind of. It’s complicated. But it’s liberating being a private detective. Obviously I still have contacts within the force, but I can leave all the procedure to them, and focus on actual detecting.”
Dan gives me a long hard look, then goes to the kitchen and starts washing his hands at the sink. “I’ll let you get away with it for now, but one day you’re going to have to tell me the full story.” He puts on a pair of spotlessly-clean oven gloves and removes two full plates from the oven. He places one in front of me, and the aroma turns my legs to jelly. Gray is a fantastic cook, and the coq-au-vin that has landed in front of me looks and smells divine. He opens a bottle of wine – a white that complements the main dish perfectly. I realise that my old friend has become highly educated since our last meeting.
“One day I will, I promise. But at the moment it’s still too raw. And life really has got complicated. I’d love the simplicity of a flat, a partner and a puppy.”
“Life’s never simple, love. You remember my sister, Sharon?”
“Sure. Is she okay?”
“No. She’s got leukaemia. Advanced. She’s on chemo, including some innovative trial drug. If we’re lucky it’ll give her another couple of years, but she’s unlikely to see fifty.”
“Oh God, Dan, that’s awful.” I do some quick sums in my head. I think she must be about forty-six now, or thereabouts. “Does she live near here? Do you get to see her much?” I think back to Dan and Gray’s wedding, a year ago. She’d looked thin, but otherwise well. I know, from my occasional catch-ups with Dan, that Sharon is married with three teenaged kids. My appetite recedes a few notches.
“She lives a couple of miles away. Pretty useful really, and Gray and I take the kids out sometimes if she needs a break.”
I’m silent for a moment. I always liked Sharon. I can’t imagine how awful it is for Dan, whose remaining family, ie his dad, is a waste of space.
Dan seems to read my mind, as his next comment is, “Dad can’t be bothered to come down and see Sharon or the kids. The old sod is still too wrapped up in his business to give a shit. If it was anyone else, I’d give them the benefit of the doubt, and think maybe they can’t handle the situation, but as it’s him…”
“I wish there was something I could do to help.” I take a few mouthfuls of food, and Dan does the same. The fun has gone though. I wish I hadn’t mentioned life being simple.
“You could investigate Dad’s finances and have him up for fraud. I’m sure it can’t all be kosher, what he does.”
“You wouldn’t, seriously, would you?”
“Only because it would upset Sharon. Anyway, we’ll see. Maybe one day he’ll be useful for something. God knows what, but stranger things have happened. He’s not really spoken to me since the wedding. He had enough trouble accepting that I’m gay. Having a son who’s married to a man is more than he could handle. The fact that I’m happy is totally irrelevant to him.”
“Are you happy with Gray?”
“Absolutely. I mean, he drives me crackers sometimes, but he’s my soulmate. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not even Rick, all those years ago.” He pours me a second glass of wine.
“I’m pleased you found someone amazing. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks. But I defy anyone to be miserable living with a man who cooks like this. And you’ve not seen dessert yet.” He dextrously steers the conversation into happier waters, telling me about the cruise they went on for their honeymoon, and the time Gray spent in the galley having cookery lessons.
Dessert is as good as promised, with a light and fluffy sticky toffee pudding, but then we have to hurry to get back to Euston. On the station concourse, while my train is being prepared, Dan holds me tight, as if we were students again.
“I’ve missed this,” I murmur against his shoulder.
“Me
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