“I used to wish he would sometimes—before he actually did, of course.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d have known for sure that he was wrong.”
Brix swallowed. Now they were getting somewhere. “Calum, anything he did to hurt you was wrong. Did he control you?”
“Only because I let him.”
“Or because he manipulated you. That’s not the same thing.”
Calum’s shrug was unconvinced, but the driving rain and increasing wind distracted Brix from the urge to put his arms around him. He settled for squeezing Calum’s hands again. “It’s blowing a fucking hoolie out here. How about we go home and continue this over a cuppa, eh? Get out of the wind?”
Calum glanced around, apparently noticing for the first time that they were both soaked to the skin. “Thought you wanted to meet your dad?”
“It’s early yet. He’ll be in the pub till kicking-out time. Let’s go home, Cal. Please?”
It looked like Calum would refuse, but then something seemed to shift in him and the rejection Brix feared never came. Calum wrapped his fingers around Brix’s wrists and slowly nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
They made their way home in silence, but it wasn’t loaded. Calum was a quiet man by nature, and Brix was deep in thought. It had never been Calum’s way to talk about himself, and it was clear his relationship with Rob had made that worse. It was obvious he needed to, though. Was Brix the right person to break down that wall? Was he neutral enough? Or would the growing urge to jump on the next train to London and twat someone be too transparent for Calum to trust him?
Brix had no idea, but as they got closer to home, the need to ease the cold in his bones became more pressing, something that wasn’t lost on Calum.
“Jesus, you’re shaking.”
“Yeah, well . . . this ain’t the coat for hiking.” Brix shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. “Have we got wood in?”
“No, it’s in the shed. I’ll get it.”
“But your hand—”
“Sit.”
Brix ignored Calum’s instructions and went to the fireplace while Calum fetched wood. He hadn’t got round to sweeping it out that morning, but it appeared Calum had if the spotless grate was anything to go by, and the sight of it spread a little warmth through Brix’s chilled bones. Having someone in the cottage all the time was as comforting for him as he hoped it was for Calum.
“Here you go.” Calum knelt beside Brix and laid three fat logs on the grate. “Where’s the kindling?”
“In the bucket.”
Calum grabbed a bundle with his good hand and threw it on the logs with some rolled-up newspaper. He retrieved the matches from the mantel and lit the paper. The flame flickered and grew, curling around the kindling, and the gentle, growing heat seeped into Brix. He dropped his head with a low groan. The cottage’s open fireplace had always had a tranquilising effect on him, sending him to sleep even in the bleak days after he’d first returned to Porthkennack. That year, for the first time ever, the arrival of summer had felt like a curse.
“Come on, mate,” Calum said. “Couch.”
“Hmm?”
Calum frowned, clearly puzzled, like he’d seemed so many times since he’d come to Porthkennack, wearing the lingering confusion of four years of silence. Brix wished he could explain and ease the lines of anxious fear from Calum’s gaze. But he couldn’t. He’d tell him a thousand Lusmoore secrets before he shared the darkest of his own.
He let Calum help him up and lead him to the sofa. Tea appeared, and by the time Calum set a plate of cakes on the coffee table, Brix was warmed up enough to string a sentence together. “The girls from the sandwich place still bringing you their leftovers?”
Calum flushed. “Apparently so, at least that’s what Lena keeps telling me. Not sure I believe her. Reckon she’s baking them herself just to rib me.”
“She does make a mean Victoria sponge, but I don’t think she’s got time to make all this lot.” Brix snagged one of the giant butterfly cakes he could never resist, even in his blackest mood. “I keep her pretty busy, and she’s got a lot on her mind right now.”
“Kim said she might be leaving.”
“He told you that?” Brix couldn’t hide his surprise. Kim didn’t share with outsiders, but then, this was Calum. Brix had trusted him implicitly from the moment they’d met. Perhaps Kim saw what he saw, maybe they all did. Did Calum know how many firm friends he’d made in Brix’s little slice of the world? “I don’t want Lena to go. She’s practically my mother. I can’t handle that computer system on my own.”
Calum nudged Brix gently. “That’s ’cause you don’t want to. It’s not that hard, honest.”