Silas Nash book 1 Hush Hush Honeysuckle Chapter 6 (b)
By Sooz006
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He tapped on the window and walked in without waiting for the door to be answered and was almost knocked over by Lucy, aged five, who screamed and flung herself into his arms.
‘Uncle Max,’ she squealed again. ‘Have you brought me a present?’
He patted his pockets down, hoping for something to magically appear in them and felt the sweets that he’d previously offered to Henry. ‘Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t.’
‘Uncle Max, you know that means that you have. Is it a kitten?’
‘No, your mother would kill me.’
Lucy put her hands on her hips and scolded him in a voice that was way too much like her mother’s. ‘Stop being silly. What have you brought me?’ She tried to put her hands in his pocket.
‘Share them with your brother.’ Caught off guard, he handed over the half kilo of sugar in the form of gumdrops that he’d been carrying around for days. ‘Hey, are you old enough to marry me yet?’
‘I’m five, uncle Max.’
‘Five, eh? Not quite then, and you know what? I prefer my girls with front teeth, anyway. You’ll keep.’
‘Maxwell,’ the warning tone came from Emily, propped against the door with a tea towel over her shoulder. ‘Stop winding her up. And just so you know, my daughter will have more sense than to marry somebody like you.’ Max noticed she looked tired, and he hoped she wasn’t working too hard. He always joked about it, but Emily was the one that got away. Two years older than him, he’d fancied her when he was sixteen. He slept around, but Emily was better than that. She was more than a grope around the back of the garages. And besides, he had to grow some balls and facial hair before he dared approach her. While he was waiting for his follicles to sprout, Jonathan swooped in at a rave, and that was that. Game over, chances lost.
Jonathan’s son, Carter, came in from the garden with a football under his arm. He was ten and shaping up to be a keen player.
‘Hey, Max. Game?’
‘Sure, Cart, prepare for a thrashing, but let me talk to your Dad first, okay?’ They punched each other a few times the way kids do.
Emily pushed a beer into Max’s hand and one for her husband. 'He’s in the office.'
‘Thanks, Em.’
He walked into Jonathan’s office without knocking and was gratified to see his friend shut his laptop too fast for it to be casual.
‘Don’t you ever knock?’
‘Let me think about that, wank-boy. No. Do I need to? And is that gorgeous wife of yours ready to run away with me yet? I could show her things you’ve only seen on the internet. And today, I’ve got just the thing that might tempt her. Guess what I’m getting?’
‘Go on, what?’
‘An old camper van. I’ve found one I like the look of. Here. Feast your eyes on this baby.’ He handed Jonathan his phone with the camper’s details. ‘Fancy a road trip? All the places you’ve always wanted to see but are too boring to go?’
‘Why do you have to be such an arsehole all the time? Since your illness started, you’ve changed. You’re turning into a real dick, and it’s my job as your best mate to tell you.’
‘And you have been a dullard since the day I met you. You’ve never amounted to anything and never will. And if you’re going to start beating me with bibles and lectures, I’ve bailed you out more times than I can count.’
‘Thanks for that, Max. Didn’t miss an opportunity to throw that back in my face, did you? Can’t forget who’s the big man.'
‘Yeah, sorry, Jon. Low blow. I am a dick. You’re right. And I’ll always give you a hand when you need it. No questions asked, mate. I’m sorry. It’s because I love you, Emily and the kids. You’re the only ones that have ever put up with me, and I suppose today’s a good day to tell you I appreciate that.’
‘Maybe just think about the way you talk to people. I’ve been there for you right through your illness and been your punchbag more than once. But I still have feelings, you know?’
‘All right, I said I’m sorry. Don’t make me get the violin out.’
‘Anyway, If you’re buying a campervan, I take it you had good news at the hospital? That’s brilliant.’ Jonathan went to clink beers with him.
‘That’s why I’m here. You might want to hold off on the celebrations for a while. You, my friend, have a wake to attend.’ He watched as the cogs turned, and Jonathan caught up with the words.
‘What the hell?’ Jonathan said.
‘I’ve done the “Why me?” I even tried the “Why not me?” That’s bullshit. Who actually thinks, “Why not me,” and believes it? I tried it once. Won’t be doing that martyr shit again.’
‘What are you telling me?’
Max drew a finger across his throat.
‘No. Shit, Max. I’m sorry. What’s the outcome? How long have they said?’
‘People always ask how long. Never how wide or how deep my coffin will be, or even how permanent, just how long. Not enough room for a party in there, that’s for sure. I’m looking at six months, maximum. And I mean, max with a small M.’ He laughed at his bad joke to break the tension.
‘Jesus Christ, man,’ Jon stood up and hugged Max.
‘I need a favour.’
‘Right, no beating around the bush then.’
‘Not really. In fact, I couldn’t give a shit, but it’ll get Mel off my back.’
‘What is it, mate? Anything. Just name it.’
Max pulled two salmon pink envelopes out of his inside pocket. His jacket had rumpled on a girl’s floor the night before, and he was surprised the envelopes didn’t tell the tale. Buying good stationery paid off, after all. He would have passed it off as a life rule to his kids if he’d had any. Always buy good stationery. It comes in handy when you’re writing your final words.
‘I need you to get these to my parents when the time comes. For God’s sake, don’t send them until after I’m dead. The last thing I need is all the false platitudes and fake tears.’
‘Aren’t you going to see them?’
‘Bloody hell, don’t you start. Have you and Mel been drinking the same water? No, I am not going to see them. No need. I’m sparing both them and me the hassle.’
‘Come on, Max. They’re your folks. They have a right to know.’
Max tapped the envelopes. ‘And they will. Are you going to do it?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you. So what have you been doing? I’ve been calling.’
‘No, you haven’t.’
‘Okay, I haven’t, but I’ve thought about calling. Didn’t you get it?’
Jonathan laughed. ‘Talking of memos, telepathic or otherwise, did you hear that Dave’s finished with Trina? He found her shacked up with that bloke from the garage down the road. He’s invited us all out on Saturday night. I don’t want to be insensitive. What do we do in this situation? Do you want to do normal, or are we done with going out and stuff? I’ve got you, whatever this new normal is. But if you’re up for it, I’m good either way.’
‘Yeah, I’m in, as long as I don’t get a better offer.’
‘While you’re feeling so public-spirited, everyone’s gathering at the Abbey tonight at six for a search party. Two lads have gone missing. Not much older than Carter. They were last seen messing about on the abbey grounds, so that’s where the police want the public search to start. It’s been over twenty-four hours now, and not looking good.’
‘Man, that’s awful.’
‘Haven’t you heard about it? It’s been all over the news.’
‘No, I don’t watch much TV. The news only ever tells us bad stuff.’
‘It’s four o’clock, you might as well stay here for your tea, and we’ll go together. I know you’ve got your own shit to deal with, but it’s kids. The community’s pulling together.’
‘Little sods have probably just run away. They’ll be back when they’re hungry,’ Max said.
‘Yeah, probably.’
Carter exploded into the office and threw his football at Max’s face.
‘Come on, then.’
Max caught the ball and laughed.
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Comments
little sods won't have run
little sods won't have run away. We know different.
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Book marked. Jenny.
Book marked.
Jenny.
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