“They’re fucking feral.”
Paddy grinned, proud.
I couldn’t help but grin back, even if his attempts at being subtle were northside of pathetic. “They’re great kids. Charlie laughs a lot around them.”
“So do you.”
“Do I?”
“No offence, bro, but I figured you’d be in a foul mood the entire time you were here, and you haven’t been.”
“Maybe you’re a crap judge of character then.”
“Or maybe you like it here.” Paddy spread his hands as we reached the log cabin. “Just putting it out there.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“Because you have a misguided notion that I can uproot my life and bring my work to a place that can’t stream the fucking news channel. Even if I could make it work remotely—”
“You told Safia last year you could.”
“—what? No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
I loved my brother-in-law, but I wanted to punch him right now. “No, I didn’t. I told her I could work from home half of the week, but the rest of it I’d have to get childcare for because I can’t exactly visit a fucking prison with a toddler on my hip.”
“Do something else then. You’re a qualified counsellor. You could do that. Or teach.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is?”
Paddy snorted. “Lad, you haven’t been happy since you wound up in Manchester babysitting Damon in the first place.”
“Lad?”
“I’m northern. I don’t mean nothing by it.”
I knew he didn’t, but he’d caught me off guard with his bargain basement life-coaching session and I was a grumpy bastard at the best of times.Not when you’re with Fen. But that was easy to say when I’d spent a fraction of my life in his company. Give it six months. I was willing to bet he wouldn’t like me so much by the end of it.
“Earth to Rama.” Paddy waved his hand in front of my face.
I didn’t punch him. Just. “What?”
“I’m just saying, if you genuinely don’t want to be up here, that’s fine, but if it’s logistics stopping you, don’t let it. We can work it out.”
“You can’t “work out” anything with your crappy Internet up here and that shit is non-negotiable for me. I’m not a farmer, dude. If the last few days have taught you anything, it must be that.”
I was done with the conversation. I softened the growl in my tone with a forced smile and shouldered the door to the log cabin.
It swung shut in Paddy’s face and I wasn’t sad about it. At least, not at first. By the time I realised I was a moody twat, he was long gone.
Sighing, I threw myself on the bed and shut my eyes. For months and months and months, I’d been so tired that snatched sleep at any opportunity had been the only thing keeping me going, but I’d slept like a baby in Fen’s arms, and the slumber-fuelled reprieve I craved now wouldn’t come. All I saw were the faces that surrounded me here—Safia, Paddy, Addie, and Mae. Baby Lalla. Charlie. Fen. I didn’t know any of them as much as I wanted to, but that was just life, right?
It’s the life you made. If you don’t like it, change it.
Easier said than done. Even if I conceded Paddy’s observation that kicking it in the wilderness was more fun that suffering the rat race in the city, my point about me lacking outdoor skills—and inclination—along with his fucking terrible Internet service still stood. My work was important to me. I didn’t know who I was without it.