I spread the rolls with salty butter, and slathered on the artisan chutney that had cost more than the sausages. “When did you get so middle class?”
“When you decided you wanted a picnic after we’d driven past Tesco.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I handed him the rolls and watched him slap sausages in them. “Wow. They’re huge.”
“You’re not on Gus portions yet? I swear, I put on a stone when I started working with him. Dude eats twelve times a day.”
“And he only goes to the gym, like, twice a week. How does that work?”
Luke passed me a roll and eyed me over his as he took a bite. “He used to go every day.”
“That so?”
“Yep. Maybe you’ve disrupted his life more than he’s letting on.”
“Or maybe he got bored poncing around in Lycra.”
“You think Gus wears Lycra to the gym?”
I knew exactly what Gus wore to the gym—joggers and a tight T-shirt that made me sweat—but I wasn’t about to tell Luke that. “Anyway...what’s with the big brother day out? Our cosy night in didn’t pan out.”
“That was my fault.”
“I know.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Everything’s my fault, right? Always has been.”
“Don’t be a martyr. I’m just saying you invited me to your house and ignored me, so I was a dick about it. Facts, brother. You can’t deny it.”
“I’m not denying anything. But I didn’t ignore you, not on purpose, anyway.”
That, I could believe. The heron lake disappeared and I was abruptly transported back in time to the moment we’d found out our dad’s liver disease was terminal and he had weeks to live. He’d died in our living room, curled up on a hospital bed we’d burned the couch to make room for. A light went out in Luke’s eyes that day; I saw it happen through the smoke. Ever since he had a unique way of shutting the world out whenever life got tough, and it had got tough, over and over. Having dinner with his ball ache little brother had been the latest in a mile-long line of shit he didn’t have the capacity to deal with, but the method remained the same—stare at something no one else could see until it all went away.
Except, despite my intentions to do otherwise, I hadn’t gone away, and now here we were, eating sandwiches by the lake we’d rode our bikes around as children.
“I know you didn’t mean to ignore me. I didn’t mean to storm out either, it’s just...hard, you know? I don’t know what to say to you, then I get mad that you don’t say anything either, because even after all these years of bullshit, there’s a part of me that still relies on you to fix everything for me.”
Luke laughed without humour. “I’ve never fixed anything for you.”
“You’ve tried, though. I didn’t see it for a long time, but I do now.”
Luke nodded, and I knew he was done. At least, I thought he was, until he fixed me with a different stare. “I know what happened with you and Gus before you left Rushmere last time. He told me a while ago.”
“So?”
“So...do we need to talk about it?”
Given the scenic route we’d taken to the six sentences we’d just exchanged, I was going with a big fat nope, but as Luke finished his lunch and sat on the grass, handsome face turned to the autumn sun, something shifted between us. Imperceptible, and yet so cataclysmic, I couldn’t ignore it. He wanted to know about me and Gus, and...I wanted to tell him. “We can talk about it if you like. There isn’t much to say, though. Whatever he told you is true, and if he was a woman, we wouldn’t be saying anything at all.”
“You don’t think I’d be curious if you’d hooked up with Mia’s sister?”
“Curious, maybe. But you wouldn’t be wondering why I never told you I was straight.” I joined Luke on the grass and stretched out on my back. Soon, the sun would be warm enough to seep into my shoulder and finish off the dull ache the painkillers left behind. “Because that’s what you want to know, isn’t it? Why I never told you I like boys.”
“Not especially. Like you said, we never told each other we liked girls. And when would you have told me? It’s not like we’ve talked much in the last decade.”
True facts. I’d never had the opportunity to divulge my fluid sexuality to my family, but would I have bothered if I had? Probably not. So what did Luke want to talk about? Was he protecting my virtue or Gus’s?
I wasn’t going to find out anytime soon. Luke lay down beside me and closed his eyes. Within minutes I couldn’t be sure if he was dozing in the sunlight or blocking me out, so I did the only sensible thing a little brother could do and sprinkled grass in his hair to see if he’d stir. He didn’t. So I dug a marker pen from the depths of my bag and drew a cock on his arm.
Chapter Thirteen
Gus
“You drew a dick on Luke’s arm? Man, he’s going to kill you.”
Billy grunted. “Maybe. But it’s been twenty-four hours and he hasn’t said anything. He might think it was Mia.”
I had my back to him so I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the smile in his voice. Pictured it as I chopped chicken for a stir-fry I didn’t know how to make. “It is the kind of thing she’d do. She’d draw it in blood, though.”
“He said there’s no work until Thursday. Can’t get the materials for the bank job, and he doesn’t want us to start anything else before then in case it overruns.”
“I know.”
“Did you finish at the church hall?”
“Yeah.”
Billy sighed, and his exasperation poked holes in my back. Either that, or he was glaring daggers at me and I could feel every single one. And I didn’t blame him. I’d
