“Leg it to the station and get the last train.”
“That’s over half a mile away. You’ll be soaked by the time you get there.”
What choice did I have? I couldn’t afford a taxi. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Harv. A little rain never hurt anyone.”
Except this was worse than I’d seen in a while. I could barely see the other end of the street.
Harvey yanked me back inside the house and slammed the door, shutting out the wind and rain.
“You can stay here if you like. I have a spare room. The bed’s always made up. I don’t have any clothes that’d fit you, though.”
“Are you sure about this? I could get a taxi, no problem.” I might have to sell my soul to pay for it, or do a runner, but I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in his own home.
He pressed his lips together. “I’m sure. It’s up to you.”
“As long as it’s okay. Thanks, Harvey. I owe you one. I promise to be out of your hair first thing in the morning. But how the fuck didn’t we hear anything?”
“Old house. Thick walls, and the bushes out front shield the windows from the rain. I’m not surprised in the least.”
We returned to the kitchen, and Harvey put the kettle on. “Tea? Coffee? Or I have Horlicks.”
I sniggered. I knew it was a nighttime drink, but it never failed to make me laugh. “Horlicks.”
“What? What’s wrong with it?”
I shook my head and stifled another giggle. “Absolutely nothing, Harv. Coffee will do for me, though. Black, no sugar.”
He worked silently, making coffee for me, tea for him.
We carried them through to the lounge and took the same seats as before. He again tucked his feet beneath him. I took that as a good sign.
“So, you know all about me. What about you? What made you move to England?”
I wasn’t sure if he was ready for that conversation. Hell, I wasn’t sure ifIwas ready for that conversation, but he’d beenopen and honest with me all night. Maybe it was time I did the same.
“It’s not a pretty story.”
“They rarely are. You heard mine, right? Not exactly a bedtime story.”
“I killed my brother.”
“What the…?” His eyes widened, his mouth slack.
“Well, not exactly. It’s a long story.”
“Wow, Killian. I don’t know what to say to that. I’m shocked, but I’m sure you have an explanation. Start at the beginning. We’ve got all night.” Harvey’s eyes looked bright, not sleepy as they had earlier. I guessed my confession had woken him up.
“I grew up in a place called Ballybrack, about half an hour south of Dublin. Not too far from a place called Killiney. Two guys from U2 live there, and Enya. You know her?”
He shook his head, but I wasn’t surprised.
“She’s a popular Celtic singer, I guess. Ever heard ofOrinoco Flow?”
“Sorry, no.”
“No need to apologise. It’s not that important. Anyway, a group of us used to go to the beach there as kids, and as we got older, we’d drive there. Have fires, drink, make out, that kind of thing.”
I paused. I’d locked the memory down tight, but the details were still crystal clear even though I’d barely been able to stand. Why hadn’t anyone tried to stop me?