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He used his chin to rock her face up to his. ‘Doll, nothing’s wrong, nothing can be wrong, I’m here with you. Everything, anything… if you don’t want… you know, for years, that’s fine by me, either way, just as long as we’re together, anything. Anything you want.’
‘Not first that, I’m not… it’s not that.’
‘When we first what, then?’
She pulled away from him, looked at the window of old people staring at them, drinking in how young and lithe and in love they were. ‘When we first met…’
Roy frowned and shook the petrol gun in the hole, shaking off the drips. His jaw was clenched as he hung the gun on the petrol tank.
They could make it a lie, all he had to do was say ‘at the hospital’ – ‘When we met at the hospital?’ She was young, biddable, he could make her say they met at the hospital. And if they said it enough, after a while, the lie would seem true, between them, would be the story they told the children. But he was Roy now and Roy couldn’t make himself tell Aleesha that lie.
Panic tightened in his chest. She was moving away from him, he could feel the light dying and soon he would be alone in the darkness again. ‘When…?’
‘I’s thinking, you know that, like, really, that’s one worry we don’t have.’ She drew in a breath so deep it arched her back and, staring at the old people in the window, spun on one foot and dropped an arm around his neck. ‘I mean, it’s good in a way,’ she whispered. ‘I mean, ’cause, you’ve kind of already met my parents. ’ Holding onto his neck she lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist.
A sob caught his throat, sounding like a hiccup and he pulled her flat against him, burying his face in her soft neck, tears wetting the perfect skin.
Despite the odds Roy and Aleesha clung tight to each other for a long, long time, until her legs were stiff and he felt very, very old.
Denise Mina