I remember how weary Colin had grown of endless outings, onenight flings and endless dates, that when he met Blythesimple, cheerful and quickwittedhe felt he had finally found the one. They slipped into a London café, listened to a busker on the corner, talked about his recent promotion and her love of modern verse, and discovered a shared fondness for a twisted olive salad with sliced apples. It seemed a sign to move forward.
Blythe invited him to her flat in Manchester for dinner. Colin chose his best shirt, shaved, memorised a few odd lines from a poet she adored, bought a bunch of roses and a bottle of red wine. He set off feeling buoyant, certain the evening would be unforgettable. His confidence could have made any cat, prowling its bowl fifteen times a day, jealous. The night was still young, yet everything appeared plotted down to the last detailexcept for the line, Good evening, Im Simon. My wifes in the shower, do come in.
Colin halted. A square, almost boyish male face stared down at him. The man extended a hand that could easily have wrapped around Colins head. At first Colin thought hed entered the wrong flat, but when Simon let out a loud, comical sneeze, nose pinched shut, just as Blythe always did, any doubt vanished. Colins mood began to tumble, the wine soured, the roses wilted.
He stepped inside, and the sight of Simons trainers made him gasp. They were so oversized he could have slipped them over his own shoes and still have room to grow. Blythe, barely taller than a child, stood there, and Colin suddenly thought how sad it was that women never learned to handle gold the way men didhand a ring now, and ten years later youre left with a wedding band, a decent investment. He drifted to the kitchen where the table was already set and Simon was changing curtains without a stool.
Five minutes and Ill be out! Blythes voice floated from the bathroom. After what felt like five rounds of fiveminute waits, the door finally opened and Blythe emerged in an evening dress, her face illuminated by makeup. Seeing Colins sour expression, she instantly understood the cause, and the nervous flutter vanished along with any romance.
She placed plates before herself and her guest, poured the wine, and began eating without waiting for Colin.
Why didnt you tell me you had a child? Colin blurted, feeling cheated.
Scared of a trailer? Blythe replied with a wry smile.
No, its not a trailerits a whole train.
The big one, right? From that remote northcountry village. Even taller than Simons. He once walked a bear with bare hands.
And where is he now? Colin swallowed hard.
Out on the road, with the same bear. He left us for the big stage, sometimes writes letters, though the handwriting looks as if a bear with a conscience wrote them.
How old is he? Colin nudged toward the wall.
Fourteen, just got his passport.
Strong?
Very funny.
They ate in silence; conversation never quite clicked.
More meat, please? Colin offered his plate.
Like it?
Honestly, Ive never tasted anything better. What is this?
Moose. Sams specialty.
Impressive talent.
It came from his dad, along with an ancient cookbook, a set of knives, some fishing rods, a boat and a heap of other junk hes tinkered with.
A boat? Colin swallowed.
Yes, its kept in the cellar. Sometimes its there, sometimes notSams a keen fisherman.
Blythes phone buzzed; she apologized and slipped away to answer. Colin thought, Time to head home, as there was nothing left for him there.
Listen, Colin, theres a problem at worka crash. Could you look after Sam for a couple of hours? Blythe returned, eyes uneasy.
Me? With Sam? Why? Colin asked, bewildered.
Hes a minor, who knows what could happen. People are wandering the flats
Afraid someone will snatch him unnoticed?
Bottom line, Blythe shifted tone, Ill pay you for the lost evening and for babysitting, then I wont call again. Deal?
What am I to do with him?
Just chat, mens chat, then I must dash.
Before Colin could answer, Blythe was out the door, off in her coat. He sat in the kitchen, drained his phone, finished the meat, drained the wine, while Blythe never returned.
When he reached Simons bedroom door, familiar sounds drifted from within. No way, Colin thought, and knocked. Open. He pushed the door gently and entered the childrens room. The first thing he saw was a large wooden board studded with knives and arrows, yet the walls bore no holesevery shot hit its mark. A vinyl record player sat on a table, Iron Maiden crackled softly from a speakerColins favourite band. Simon lounged in a corner, fixing fishing tackle. Cups lined a cabinet, a boxing bag hung from the ceiling, and a brandnew gaming console rested by the TV.
Your mum does a fine job, Colin muttered, jealous. No teen would normally have such a room; hed always dreamed of it.
I work in the summer, Simon replied, making Colin feel a pang of shame. He imagined Blythe hunting for a bottomless purse for her bottomless kid, yet the boy seemed selfsufficient.
Do you have a charger? Colin asked, holding up his phone.
Just off the railway line, Simon said, pointing.
The railway line? Colin repeated, stunned, then turned to see a real set of tracks beyond the back garden, breath catching.
You built it yourself? he whispered, afraid to break the spell.
Yeah. I keep adding bits, want a second tier and a few bridges. New rails arrived, but my hands cant quite reach them yet.
A heat rose in Colins chest.
Can we run a loop? he asked.
One minute, Simon said, setting aside his tackle, standing tall and crossing the room in a single stride.
Blythe returned an hour later, certain Colin had fled, and hurried to the boys room, catching the two boys assembling the railway. It was hard to tell who was older.
Colin, you should be going home, she whispered.
Ahoh! Colin sprang up. What time is it?
Half past twelve, Blythe yawned, exhausted. Ive got a disaster to sort at the depot tomorrow, need my rest. She escorted him to the door, kissed his cheek, and handed him a few pounds.
I dont take money from women, Colin said, scornful.
Fine, thanks for looking after my trailer. He gave a brief smile and left.
A few days later Colin called, Hey, could I pop round again?
Its busy at work, not looking for anything romantic, and after our last meeting
What about Simon? Can I see him?
Simon? Blythe asked, puzzled.
Yeah, maybe keep an eye on the kid.
Im not sure Ill have to ask him.
Ive already texted him. Hes fine. I bought a new game for his Xbox, well sit quietly while you handle your errands.
Alright, come tonight.
That evening Colin arrived in a completely different guiseno shirt, no perfume, no wine, no lingering glances. He wore a plain black tee bearing his favourite band, a backpack stuffed with crisps and fizzy drinks, and a childish grin.
Just be quietIve got a twohour video call soon, Blythe met him in a robe, a fabric mask over her face, the scent of onions on her breath. Colin nodded and slipped into the childrens room.
Blythe struggled to separate Colin and Simon, who were locked in a heated debate over Balabanov versus Guy Ritchie. Both defended their viewpoints passionately, ready to launch a sixhour film marathon, until Blythe intervened, declaring them both victims of poor taste, and ushered Colin toward the exit.
Dont forget the bait for Saturday! Simon shouted from the room.
What bait? Blythe shot Colin a look.
Were going for pike. I told Simon theres a shop with brilliant bait. I havent fished in a thousand years.
Youre mates, then. Not coming to spend time with me?
You can join, slice the sandwiches.
Fine, Ive nothing better to do. Go on, enjoy your fishing, Blythe smiled, ushering Colin out. Work always eats my time anyway. At least the child gets something to do.
A month passed. Blythe buried herself in work, romance a distant memory. Colin and Simon, however, used the time productively: they finished the railway, caught crabs, brewed ale from an ancient recipe Simon inherited, Simon taught Colin to navigate the woods, and Colin shared flirtation tips, helping Simon ask a girl from his class out. Everything ran smoothly until one evening a knock at the door sent fixtures from the false ceiling crashing down.
Blythe opened it to a wave of bearmeat aroma. On the doorstep stood her exhusband, Thomas, and his son, Simons father.
Ive realised everything, Thomas said, kneeling despite his height, still towering over Blythe. Potter and I are tired, want a quiet family life. Ive saved enough, will take you and Simon back to the village. Youll quit your job, well fish and hunt together.
Ha! Good joke. Ten years and you finally have an epiphany. Your bear also wants to rejoin the family? Thomas sneered.
No Actually I signed a contract with a film studio behind my back, he muttered.
So thats it, Blythe crossed her arms, they just used you.
It doesnt matter! The point is I now He was cut off as Thomass massive fist jabbed toward Colin, who stood in Blythes old football shirt.
Whos that? Thomas demanded, aiming his knuckles at Colins head.
Its its Blythe stammered, unsure how to react.
Simon burst from the room, snapping Thomass arm to the wall with a fierce grip.
This is a trailer! Simon hissed.
Simon! Son! Its me, father! What trailer? Thomas gasped, writhing.
Its the trailer we use to haul everything you left behind.
But I left you nothing, Thomas whispered, finally grasping the meaning.
Colin and Blythe clung together in the corner, watching the two giants struggle.
Enough, enough, break it up, Thomas roared, finally releasing his hold.
Youve done well, lad. Looks like youre ready for a boar hunt, he patted Simons arm. Maybe tomorrow I can join you, talk about lost time? Im a father, after all. He stared at his exwife, eyes softening.
Blythe shifted her gaze between Thomas and Colin, at a loss for words.
Yes, I understand, Colin replied, gathering his coat.
Sorry Thomas muttered.
The next morning Thomas and his son left at first light, while Simon returned home late that night.
Wheres my dad? Blythe asked, eyebrows raised.
Hes gone, Simon said, slipping off his shoes.
What do you mean gone? Just left?
Not exactly, Simon shrugged. He took the boar, loaded it onto the trailer and drove off to train it. Found a new partner for shows, dropped me off in town and vanished.
My God, Ive been foolish, Blythe slapped her forehead. I should call Colin.
No need, I just saw him off. He drove me home, promised to stop by tomorrow.
How did he know where to pick me up? she asked.
He said hed been watching us, making sure we were alright.
And he really meant that?
Yes. He also said hed attached himself to us, and might never detach again.
