“Harder than I meant for him to. I was angry.”
“We all were.” Brett pulled up Sean’s eyelids. He was conscious but lying still and moaning. “We have to get him to a hospital. With all the drugs and alcohol he’s taken, a concussion is the last thing he needs.”
Ryan cursed beneath his breath. “I can’t believe this. Was it always like this?”
“Yes! Why do you think we’ve been drifting apart, Ryan? This stuff starts getting pretty pathetic at our age. Our crazy days should be behind us. Go tell Tom to get the car started.”
Ryan got to his feet, chastised. He went to Tom, who was still leaning over the counter. “Mate, are you okay?”
Tom looked up at him, face pale, lips curled into a snarl in response to his obvious pain. “Oh, I’m wonderful, thank you.”
Ryan considered trying to get Tom and Sean to make up, but it would be a selfish act. Tom had the right to never see Sean again if that’s what he wanted. “I can’t believe he’s done this, Tom, and I know it’s crazy to even be saying this to you right now, but Sean needs our help. We have to get him to a doctor.”
Tom straightened up and his scowl became a frown. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with him?”
Ryan moved aside so that Tom could see into the lounge. “He had a funny turn. Brett’s worried he might have a concussion from when I slammed him against the wall.”
“Good!”
“Come on, man, you’re better than that. With all the blow Sean took, he could end up in real trouble. Do you want it on your conscience if something happens?”
“Seriously, Ryan? Whatever happens to Sean is Sean’s fault. Don’t place it on me.”
“You’re right, but that doesn’t change the fact we need to get him to a hospital. You could use one yourself. Maybe they can fix your ear.”
“Perhaps if you hadn’t stepped on it like a clumsy oaf. Brett said there’s no way to salvage it.”
“Shit! It was an accident. I—”
Tom waved a hand dismissively. “You’re not to blame for this.”
“I brought you here.”
“You asked me here, and I was happy to come. There’s only one person at fault, and we both know who it is.”
As if hearing the accusation, Sean groaned on the lounge floor.
Brett looked towards the kitchenette. “We need to get going, guys.”
Tom hissed and shoved himself away from the counter. “Fine, but I’m not stopping at the hospital. I’m going to drive on back to Manchester with anyone who wants to join me.
“You’ve been drinking,” Ryan pointed out.
“Less than the rest of you, and Loobey hasn’t had anything, so if he wants to come, he can drive. I’m sorry, Ryan, but I’m going home.”
All Ryan had wanted was one last weekend before becoming a fully fledged adult. He had wanted to laugh and joke one last time without a ring on his finger. Sophie was his future, but he wanted to give a proper goodbye to his past. Now it seemed like the past had ended without him realising it. He was trying to recreate something that was already dead and buried.
“I understand. I just hope you can forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ll go start the car.”
Ryan stayed by the counter, suddenly exhausted. He checked his watch and realised it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. By the time they were done at the hospital, he would be a zombie. The last thing he expected to think about this weekend was Sophie, but right now he wanted to lie in her lap while she stroked his hair. The way they did when they watched the Match of the Day rerun on a Sunday.
Brett called for Loobey to help get Sean to his feet. When they struggled, Aaron joined them until they eventually succeeded. Sean was wobbly and unable to focus. He kept trying to talk, but only frothy saliva filled his mouth. Ryan grabbed a bottle of water and brought it over. He poured it into Sean’s mouth carefully, relieved when he drank some. “You’re going to be okay, Sean. We’re taking you to a hospital.”
“Let’s get him outside,” said Brett. “The fresh air might wake him up.”
Ryan nodded. “Aaron, can you pour some water on the fire? Last thing we need is to come back and find the place in flames.”
Aaron rushed off to fill a glass at the sink. Loobey was panting, so Ryan moved him aside and took Sean’s weight with Brett. Loobey got the door. Outside, their footsteps crunched on the gravel. The silhouette of Tom’s car stood before them, its lights switched off. Why hadn’t Tom started it yet?
Tom emerged from the side of the car, dimly illuminated by the light coming from inside the cottage. He jangled his car keys at them angrily. “Who messed with it?”
“What?”
“Someone messed about with my car. It won’t start.” Ryan reached out to console him, but Tom thrust a finger in his face. “This has gone so far passed the line, Ryan. Who the hell messed with my car? I demand to know right now!”
“No one. Nobody messed with your car.”
Tom glared at Sean slumped groggily between them. “It was him.”
“Didn’t,” Sean muttered. It was surprising he could even still follow what was being said. “S-S-Swear down.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Tom. “What the hell did you do, Sean?”
Sean’s chin was pressed against his chest, but he lifted his head slightly to look at Tom. “D-Didn’t.”
“We’ve all been together,” said Brett. “Sean hasn’t been out of our sight. No one messed with your car, Tom. What’s wrong with it, anyway?”
“It’s dead. I can’t even switch on the dashboard.”
“Let me take a look,” said Loobey. “Can you lift the bonnet?”
Tom stepped aside grumpily. “Be my guest.”
Brett and Ryan stood with Sean while Tom popped the bonnet. Loobey lifted it and propped it up. Then he
