LEANING AGAINST the handrail, I glance at my reflected image in the mirror. Open shirt and loosened tie. Jacket hung over the shoulder and crystal trophy in hand. Large brown envelope tucked under the arm and an overall grand-bloody-mess impression I refuse to look at any longer.

Tipping my head back against the wall, I close my eyes and take a steadying breath, listening to the lift humming softly as it ascends to the third floor.

Upon entering my flat, I toss the envelope onto the console table – photographs and proof of transactions that should incriminate that miserable bastard. Then I throw myself on the sofa, the headache pounding inside my skull making it almost impossible to think.

"Hello, Brian." A soft voice cuts through the haze in my mind.

It's my sister, turning in the swivel couch to face me, a mug steaming in her hands.

"Sue! Please, grab a seat. Make yourself at home."

Not missing the sardonic tone, she puts on a fake smile. "How are you?"

"Aside from a raging headache? Fine, thank you."

"How was last night?" Her voice even, her expression calm.

It's all fake, she's about to combust.

"Pretty uneventful. How was yours?"

Narrowing her eyes at me, she hisses, "Seriously, Brian! What in the world was that last night? What happened to you?"

"Please, don't be mad." I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to ease the throb in my head.

"Yes, I'm mad – very perceptive of you. Actually, I'm furious!" Her sharp, green stare pierces right through me. "It's well past midday already. Where the hell have you been?"

I jerk upright and check the time myself. Shit, my flight to New York! I only have a few hours to gather my stuff, say goodbye to the kids and get to Heathrow.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"No, Sue, I'm afraid I can't read your mind." I hunch forward and hold my head between my hands, the throb against my temples only getting worse.

Sue remains silent, waiting, defiance tilting her chin.

"Why?"

"I think you need this." She hands me her cup of coffee and I take a grateful sip, hoping the caffeine quickly enters my system. "Do you know what day it is?"

I give a half shrug. No bloody idea.

Sue allows me the time to think more about it, her silent rage making my stomach knot as the quiet settles in deeper between us.

"I'm sorry," I breathe out after a while. For not knowing what day this is – a miserable one, that is for sure. For not showing up for dinner and leaving her all by herself last night. For ignoring her calls. For disappearing right after the ceremony. But mostly, for shutting myself away from everyone lately.

"You can't just say you're sorry, Brian. You have to pick yourself up! And stop letting people down!"

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

"Oh, I'm being over-dramatic?" Sue crosses her arms defiantly. "For crying out loud, look at yourself! You look like shit. I bet you spent the night with the first trashy whore who swayed her ass in front of you!"

No, I didn't spend the fucking night with some woman! That's the very last thing on my mind right now.

But I'm too exhausted to argue. Instead, I lean my head against the back of the sofa, and close my eyes, wishing I could tell her more of what's happening. But I can't, I don't want her to worry any more than she already does.

"Talk to me goddammit!"

"Stop assuming you always know everything. Because you don't."

I was driving all night long, following up on a tip to unmask the bastard that nearly killed our father. More specifically, paying a 'commission' to some guy – just another agent in a chain of intermediaries used to disguise just another corrupt transaction. Hiding money in offshore accounts and tax evasion. Real estate corruption. Shell companies. Bribes disguised as political donations. Bribes disguised as charitable donations. You name it. The list's so fucking long, he'll beg for mercy when I rub it in his face.

"How does it feel, huh?" Sue gives me another of her long scrutinising looks. "To wake up after a night of rebound sex only to find yourself as empty inside as you were before? Don't you want to feel something more meaningful in your life? Don't you crave something that inspires more than an orgasm?"

"What the actual fuck are you saying?" A bitter snort escapes me. "Seriously? Is that really what you think of me?! Because I've been such a fuck-boy all my life, right?" I shake my head, hurt-filled irony dripping from my words.

She should know me better than that.

"What the hell is going on then? Talk to me!"

"You think what you want." I throw my hands up in the air as if in surrender. "Now, really, this isn't the best time for this. I need to go. I'll be sure to check one of your get-your-shit-together self-help books when I return, all right?"

She gives a humourless laugh. "You're such an arse sometimes." Her eyes are like daggers, stabbing me deep. "Everyone falls on their asses from time to time, but then they pump up their legs and move on. And that's what you'll do too, you hear me? Because I'm not sure I like this new version of you! Acting strange for months now. Always so mysterious, so distant. As though you keep forgetting you have a family who needs you."

"Don't ever say that again!" I spit, irritated, as I get up from the sofa. "My family matters more than anything else in the world. Now, if you don't mind, please leave."

"Damn you, Brian, that's not you! Don't bottle it up inside, talk it out. Or join a gym and punch some shit. Shave your head and join a sect! Whatever. But, please, find a way to keep it together!"

"I need to shower and get ready."

"No, you need an attitude adjustment!"

"Sue, please. Let's talk some other time." I gesture to the entrance hall.

"You didn't answer my question: do you even remember what day it is?"

"Bust-My-Balls-Day?" I growl to myself, halfway down the corridor towards my room.

"Josh's tournament was this morning! You signed him up for it. You promised him you'd be there, pulling for him the whole time – but guess what? You were too busy shagging some stranger, drinking to wash your shit away, or doing only God only knows what, and never showed up!"

My sister chokes on a sob and my body goes rigid.

"He was searching each face in the crowd, looking for you the entire time! And I called you like a hundred times, but you didn't even bother to answer the damned phone!" Her voice rises with every word. "You should have seen the disappointment in his eyes. How dare you do this to my child? He looks up to you, you're his fucking hero and you know that!"

"Sue–"

"Now, if you don't want to be part of his life, that's fine. But don't make promises you don't plan to keep, you hear me? Don't you ever mess with any of my kids again or I'll..." Her trembling voice trails off.

Dead silence hangs for a moment, but her words keep echoing through my mind, the taste of regret burning inside.

I love her children more than anything in the world and Josh is special. He's my little mate. I can always rely on him to make me smile or laugh. To keep me on my toes. To give me so much more than I'll ever be able to give to him. I'd never, ever do anything to purposely let him down.

I inhale deeply, ploughing a hand through my hair as I try to form the words. "You're right, I'm a fucking moron. I'm so sorry. Give me an hour and I'll go talk to him."

"That's not all." Another pained look crosses Sue's face.

The dull ache in my gut intensifies. I arch my brows, asking her to continue.

"Jimmy's been calling you all morning too. It's his granddad..."

*

"It's all good, don't be so hard on yourself." Tapping me reassuringly on the leg, Josh's eyes flare with understanding as he looks up at me. "I get it, I'm a big boy. How could you have made it, if you're going away and have, like, a ton of things to prepare?"

Seated on one of the benches of the Holland Park playground, he takes another greedy bite of ice cream.

"Right, you're a big boy now." I smile at his innocence, a bitter smile though. Culpability is eating me up inside. "Three sisters to look after sure is a lot of responsibility. How have you been handling the situation, mate?"

"Going slowly insane. They're always crying and whining. I've been thinking about moving out."

Letting out a laugh, I poke him a little. "Where would you go, kiddo?"

He shrugs, his attention seemingly more focused on the chocolate chips he's picking out with his fingers than on anything else.

I stretch back with my hands clasped behind my head, feeling the rays of sun permeate my skin and warm up my face, the anxiety easing at last.

It's all quiet now. There were a few endlessly amused kids swaying to and fro on the swings, but they're gone now. It's just the two of us and the sound of the leaves in the trees rustling a little.

"How's the ice cream?"

He glances up at me, his freckled face smudged with vanilla and chocolate. "It's not contagious, is it?"

"What? That sticky mess on your face? Hope not." I hand him a tissue.

He cleans his mouth clumsily and then puts on his thinking face. "What do you think your life will be like when you die?"

I'm taken aback for a moment, not really knowing how to explain the impossibility beyond the question. How do you even approach that inescapable part of life with a seven-year-old kid?

"You've already heard about Arthur, have you?"

"How long have you known him?"

"As far back as I can remember. Did you know he was the one who taught us, Jimmy and I, how to ride a four-wheel bike? We were fourteen or fifteen. That was one hell of a summer! I'll teach you too, someday."

"Mum says he went to heaven, that everything in heaven is beautiful and perfect." He pauses with his tongue hanging out, ice cream dripping onto it. "If it's such a great place, why was she crying on the phone?"

"Because it's always sad when we have to say goodbye to the people we care about."

"But is it contagious or not?"

"No! Where did you get that from? Jimmy's granddad has been very ill for a while now and his heart was too tired and weak to continue to–"

"Oh good, what a relief!" His shoulders sag, on his face a totally deadpan expression. "Because we went to see him last week and I still have a lot to do before I can go to heaven. Like finish school. Maybe get a girlfriend. You're also going to die one day, aren't you?"

"Nothing in life is certain except death and taxes, a wise man once said."

He stops licking and crinkles his nose, staring at me with a puzzled expression. "I don't understand."

I put my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. "It's okay. It's complicated, even for adults. But you should know no one ever really dies. They keep on living in our hearts."

Josh's confused expression intensifies. "In our hearts? Wasn't it in heaven? Where's heaven anyway?"

Why do such euphemisms always seem so hard to explain?

A quick check of my watch confirms I've got to take him home now. "Come on, we'd better get going or I'll miss that plane."

He holds my hand as we walk back to the car park. "Ben says they stuck his grandmother inside a coffin until Jesus picked her up."

"Yes, some people do that."

"And then they planted her."

I let out a chuckle. Josh is one of the most thoughtful kids I know. His random connections, quite often little excursions into the absurd, are sometimes as funny as they are completely and totally insane.

"Are they going to plant Arthur too? I mean, why would they even put people in the ground? It's filled with bugs and yucky stuff. Unless they're going to grow into something. Are they? Why doesn't Jesus come down right away?"

"Jesus comes to pick up your soul, not your body."

"And why do they put a stone on the top? Ben says it's to keep them down there, but where else would they go anyway?" He tilts his head and frowns at me, clearly confused. "What's the soul?"

I look up at the oak trees, secretly hoping for some help on this. Quite frankly, I find it confusing too.

"Well, your soul... some people believe there's a part of us that..." I struggle to find words. "It's sort of an invisible part that exists within us, something that–"

"Hey, it'd be really cool if you could bring me an Arsenal shirt!" He shakes my hand, a cute smug smile peeking from the corners of his mouth.

"Hmm. Not sure I can find those over there. Maybe I can get you something from the New York Knicks instead." I turn Josh's cap backwards. "A cap maybe?"

Eyebrows raised, he gives me a thumbs-up sign. "Have I told you Mattie farts a lot? Emma says those are burps coming out of her tiny bum. What's your view on that?"

"Huh..." Right now, I don't have an answer. I think my brain is hurting.

"This was fun. Can we come back next week again? And try the Smurf ice cream? Can we bring Emma along? You'll be back next week, won't you?"

"I will. I'll be back on Friday. How about I pick you up from school? And you stay overnight?"

Jumping with excitement, Josh high-fives me before he slides into the backseat and slams the door shut, on his face a beaming smile I can't get enough of.

On the outside, the reflection in the car window is one of a guy who's smiling too, genuinely wishing there were more moments like this.

*

"You sure you don't want to come in?" Josh's lips set into a little pout.

I check my watch again. We're on the pavement, right in front of my sister's front garden. "Sorry, mate. Really need to go."

"But aren't you saying goodbye to Mum?"

"Have already. Now go. I'll wait here till you get inside and wave you all goodbye."

"All right then." He grabs my sleeve and pulls me down, to give me a kiss and whisper in my ear, "Don't forget my cap. And our guys' night."

"I won't. I promise." I ruffle his hair before he runs to the front door, where Sue is already waiting with Mattie on her hip.

Standing at the living room window, with her nose pressed against the glass, making funny faces, I find Emma, giggling and waving. I wave back.

Shaking my head, amused at the whole scene, I walk to the car and open the door, casting one last glance back at them all. For a moment my eyes rest on Emma again, who's blowing me kisses from the palms of her tiny hands. So cute.

But then I freeze, the unexpected glimpse of a silhouette behind the drifting gauzy curtains making my heart thump so hard in my chest. A silhouette of a woman rocking Marianne in her arms.

A woman I used to know a long time ago.

A very long time ago...

~~~~

Thanks for reading!

A new chapter is coming soon ;-)

Ana xo