“I know, but…” He chuckles. “No. It doesn’t matter. Maybe it was better this way. The shock was nice. I’m just glad I didn’t fall down the stairs and break my neck.” He focuses on me. “Juni told me about the counselling —without revealing any of the confidential details. Said you’re doing great, all things considered. She thinks you’re a marvel. Said if everyone had your powers of recovery, she’d be out of a job.”
I shrug like it’s no big thing, but the compliment tickles me.
“Billy’s not so lucky.” He sighs. “I knew Loch’s death hit him hard but I didn’t realise things were this bad. I thought, after Slawter, he’d be prepared for death. He seemed to handle that OK. But Juni says he bottled up his feelings, that his reaction now reflects a delayed response to what happened then.”
“She’s the expert, I guess.”
Dervish nods slowly, then says, “Billy told her I was his father.”
“Oh?” Bill-E doesn’t know that his mother had an affair with my father, that I’m his half-brother, that Dervish is his uncle. He thinks Dervish is his dad.
“She normally wouldn’t share information like that,” Dervish goes on, “but this was one time she felt she had to. She needed to know if it was true.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth. Well, some of it. I didn’t mention Cal or your relationship to Billy. That’s our secret. I didn’t see the need to reveal that much.”
The kettle boils. Dervish pours water into the two mugs. Glances at me as he’s dunking tea bags. “I thought you might have told Billy about your dad.”
“No,” I say softly.
“You know that you can if you want? It’s your call, not mine.”
“I know. I want to tell him and I will. But I’ve never found the right moment. It’s the sort of news that will turn his world upside down. I’ve been waiting for a quiet, uneventful period, but we haven’t had any over the last few years.”
Dervish picks up the mugs and pauses. “I wouldn’t wait too long. You know better than most that time is precious. Waiting’s a dangerous game. Sometimes you miss the boat and end up regretting it.”
I nod thoughtfully. “I’ll give it a few months, let Bill-E get over Loch. When I think he’s ready, I’ll sit him down and spit it all out.”
“If you want any help…”
“I’ll ask. Thanks.”
We smile at each other. Then Dervish heads back to the TV room to continue playing catch-up with Juni.
Eleven. Juni’s still here. At her invitation I’ve joined her and Dervish in the TV room. They’re sitting together on the couch, not touching but
They talk about all sorts of things—school, Carcery Vale, motorbikes, bands, films, TV. For a man who’s never shown any interest in music, movies or sitcoms, Dervish has become awfully knowledgeable all of a sudden.
“You were at that gig too?” Juni squeals—yes,
“Backstage,” Dervish says modestly. “I knew one of the roadies. He got me a pass. Actually I used to hang out with the lead singer when we were younger.”
Dervish hanging out with punk frontmen? Moshing backstage at concerts? It’s official—I’ve stepped through into an alternate reality.
“I’m off to bed,” I mutter, rising and faking a yawn. I normally don’t hit the sack before midnight but this is getting too surreal.
“Bed?” Juni blinks and checks her watch. “Goodness. How did it get so late? I have to go. I need to get up early in the morning.”
She stands. Dervish is on his feet a split second later. “Not yet,” he gasps. “It’s only eleven. That’s not late.”
“It is for me,” she laughs.
“But I haven’t shown you round the house yet.” He throws it out in desperation, as if she must see the house now or self-combust. “You said you wanted to see the upper floors, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Juni says hesitantly, looking at her watch again. “Perhaps another time?”
“It won’t take long,” Dervish smiles. “A quick tour. You can come back for a better look later.”
“Perhaps you won’t invite me back again,” Juni murmurs, lowering her lashes demurely. Yipes! What a line! You can’t get much cornier than that.
“You can visit any time you like,” Dervish simpers. I stand corrected on the corniness front.
“Well… OK,” Juni decides. “But it
“You can have it in writing if you wish,” Dervish smirks.
“No,” Juni says and touches his hand. “I trust you.”
Talk about love-struck puppies! This is excruciating. Any more slushiness and I might vomit.
I accompany Dervish and Juni around the mansion, hanging back a few paces, grimacing like an old crone every time one of them makes some lovey-dovey coo or comment.
Dervish is super-animated, whisking her through the maze of corridors and rooms, treating her to brief sound bites about the house’s history. She loves the cellar—she’s a big wine connoisseur too.
“You’ll have to come and uncork a few bottles with me,” Dervish insists.
“Wine is made for sharing,” Juni agrees.
“I was just about to say that,” Dervish says excitedly. “I can’t believe how much we have in common.”
“I know,” Juni smiles. “The same bands, movies, books, wine… It’s freaky.”
She sounds a lot younger when she says things like that. I’ve noticed that in adults before. People learn a new way of speaking as they grow up, but words and phrases from their childhood pop out sometimes, taking them back twenty or thirty years in the space of a couple of syllables.
Up the stairs the tour continues, although now they’re talking more about bands and books, less about the house. I think of injecting some cutting remark—“Maybe you’re really twins who were separated at birth”—but why spoil their fun? Besides, the more I let them babble, the more ammo I’ll have to tease Dervish with later.
We come to Dervish’s study. The lights and PC are still on from when he was in there earlier. The door’s ajar. Juni’s slightly ahead of Dervish and starts to go in ahead of him. Dervish doesn’t mind. He’s smiling serenely. But then he remembers the spells. (I think of them before he does but wickedly choose not to say anything, thinking how much fun it will be if she turns into an elk or a zebra.)
“Juni, no!” he barks. She stops short, surprised. He smiles shakily. “I mean, it’s a mess in there. Please let me go in first and…”
He tries to press past her but she puts up a hand and stops him. “Wait.” She frowns at the door, then takes another step towards it.
“Juni, I really don’t think…”
“It’s OK.” She looks back at him, calm and composed. “Just give me a minute. I want to try something.”
She faces the door again and closes her eyes. Raises her right hand and holds her palm up to the open doorway. I nudge up beside Dervish, wondering what she’s doing. He’s staring at her uncertainly.
Juni takes a breath. Holds it. Murmurs something softly. The light in the room dims and her fingers glow. Then the lights come back up strong again and the glow in her fingers fades.
She steps forward into the study and nothing happens.
Dervish stands outside, gawping at her as she does a twirl and smiles at him. “You… the magic… the spells… you lifted them!”
Juni snaps her fingers. A book shoots off a shelf and into her hand. “Tah-dah!” she sings, like when I first met her at school. Then she looks at Dervish seriously. “I’ve had a busier year than I led you to believe,” she
