The Mysterious and Amazing Blue Billings
Page 28
He still has the same restless eyes that quite obviously see more than anyone else’s do. But now he’s happy and sleek and satisfied, his expression clear and content. He’s filled out due to eating regular meals, but it’s turned to muscle from when he runs with me or the yoga he’s discovered that he loves. I love it too, mainly because he’s now fantastically bendy like he’s made of plasticine.
He smiles as he gets close and it does things to my stomach—happy things like how he looks at me. Warm and intimate as if, unseen by the world, we have our very own tightknit unit.
“Brought some fresh doughnuts for pudding,” he says, holding up a paper bag from the bakery near the shop.
I smile. “We’ll have to fit in a run tonight.”
He bends to kiss me before sitting down. His lips are warm and soft and he sucks gently on my bottom lip before tangling his tongue with mine. I feel his lip ring against my mouth, the metal warmed from his lips. He pulls back, and I blink to clear my eyes. As is his custom now, he runs one finger gently down my face over the slight scar at my temple. It’s the only physical memento we have from that horrible night.
“I don’t need to run anywhere. I’ve been moving boxes all morning. Tom’s had me hopping.” His tone is affectionate.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand his and Tom’s bond. It’s born of things that I can never and will never understand. But I know how happy it makes Blue to have Tom in his corner advising him, and I’ve grown to love the cantankerous old man myself. I suppose I should. He’s more than likely a harbinger of what Blue will become.
It’s probably a good job he has Tom, because I can sense that Blue’s abilities are growing along with his confidence. Sometimes I think his confidence has grown a little too fast, but I haven’t said anything yet. I just watch and wait because something tells me that he’ll need me again. Something will be waiting around the corner for Blue. It’s inevitable, but all I can do is be here for him and protect him as best I can. And maybe that will be enough, because God knows I love him so.
“What are you drawing?” he asks.
I point at the gnarled old tree in front of me. “That. It looks like a demon is pulling its way out of the trunk. Like it’s an exit from Hell.”
He looks at it seriously. Anyone else would have laughed at the fanciful idea. Mason certainly would have. Blue, however, just looks thoughtful.
“I think it would have longer arms,” he finally says judiciously. “If you were clawing your way out of Hell, you’d certainly look like it had been arm day at the gym.” He nudges me. “I only want the best monsters for Blue, Psychic Detective, to fight.”
I smile. I’d started drawing Blue as a whimsical gesture born of my fascination with him. Gradually I’d added monsters and spooks for him to fight and dreamed up cases he could investigate in York. When my agent saw it, she got very excited and promptly sold the concept to a newspaper. It became almost a cult thing overnight, and now every day my inbox is full of people wanting more Blue, to the extent that a publisher has commissioned a graphic novel. I haven’t told Blue yet, but I will, and he’ll celebrate with me as if it was his own triumph because he has the most generous nature of anyone I’ve ever met.
I draw busily for a few seconds. “Better?”
He nods. “Much. Now, let’s eat while I tell you about what Tom said to a customer today.”
So we eat and we talk and I laugh and watch his mobile, clever face with that wicked curling smile, and I hoard the images so I can draw them at some point. However, he seems almost edgy today even while he chatters brightly. Like his mind is far away, focusing on something only he can see.
“You alright?” I finally ask when he comes back from putting the rubbish in a bin.
“Of course,” he says, shooting me a quick glance and scratching at a hole on his jeans, working his fingernails through the small tear.
I fold my arms. “What’s the matter?” I ask. Normally, he isn’t a huge fidgeter.
He bites his lip, and I’m suddenly worried.
“What is it, lovey?”
He looks up, startled, and I flush slightly. I know I love him, so the endearment came off my tongue easily, but it must seem strange to him. I watch as his eyes brighten, and he blows out a long breath.
“Blue?”
He says something quickly then. The words flood out and seem to merge into one, so what I hear is, “Iloveyousomuchallthetimeloveyou.”
It takes me a long second to understand what he’s said, but then my whole body seems to wash hot and cold. “What did you say?” I ask breathlessly.
He grimaces as if I’m torturing him. “Surely you heard?” he says snappily.
I smile. “I think I did, but it was the longest word known to man.” I pause. “Unless the man is Welsh, in which case well done on the vowels.”
“Twat,” he says affectionately. He draws in a long breath. “I love you,” he says as if steeling himself to make a speech on the guillotine. “So much,” he adds forcefully as if I might be thinking that it’s just a little bit. I open my mouth to speak, but he carries on fiercely. “I know I’m not Mason. I’m not educated and well dressed. My hair is messy, my clothes are the same, and although I read a lot, I’ll never have school smarts like your ex. I’ll never go to uni.” I open my mouth again, but he shakes his head. “I don’t need you to reassure me.” He pats his chest. “I know all the reasons I should be wrong for you in here.” He nods thoughtfully. “But I also know in here that I’m somehow just right for you. That I can make you happy, and you already do that for me. I’ve never had anything that was just mine before.” He glares at me, and it’s so adorable. “So, I just needed you to know, and let’s not ever talk about it again.”
He sits back and silence reigns for a few seconds. “Am I allowed to talk now?” I say slowly.
He gives a choked sound and waves his hand rather regally.
“I love you too,” I say and feel the happiness unfold in me. “I can’t believe you said it first. I thought you never would, but I was okay with that because I can say it often enough for both of us.”
“You love me?” he says rather loudly and startles a pigeon. The bird gives him an indignant look and flies off, but his attention is on me. “Why?”
“Why do I love you?”
He nods.
“Well, because you’re Blue. You’re fierce and funny and kind and loyal. And although you’re full of more prickles than a thistle, I sort of think of you as my thistle. Shit, that’s so lame. I can think of much better things.”
“Don’t.” He looks around and, seeing that the park is empty now, he scrambles onto my lap and kisses me fiercely. “You really love me?” he asks wonderingly.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “So much.”
His forehead wrinkles and he plays with a strand of my hair. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I nod solemnly. “Always.”
“It frightens me a bit how much I feel,” he whispers. “I never wanted to love anyone, and I’m pretty positive I’m going to be shit at it.”
I smile and tighten my grip. “It doesn’t matter. As long as we treat each other right, there’s room for error.”
“I don’t want to live together yet though,” he says quickly, watching me closely for any sign of upset. “I want to go out and court or whatever the fuck Tom says we’re doing. I don’t want too much too soon because it frightens me how much I feel already. What if it goes wrong, and I lose you?”
“I don’t know the future,” I say slowly. “I can’t see that any more than I can see Rosalind. But just as I know that she’s there, I also know that it’s going to be fine, and when it isn’t, it’ll still be okay, because we’ll be together.”
“How do you know that?” he asks curiously.
I want to tell him that it’s in the way he’s nestled close to me now despite his fears. The way he holds my hand, the soft way he kisses me last thing at night. Even in the way he tells me his probl
ems openly and the way he tries to solve mine so fiercely. As if, at my birth, the fairies appointed a once-blue-haired and still wickedly smiling man as my guardian.
But I can’t tell him that, so instead I pull him close on my lap in the empty park, and I inhale the scent of peaches and squeeze him for a moment.
“I just know,” I say solemnly.
While another man might argue and worry, he doesn’t. Instead, he curls into me with his customary slightly sceptical expression, and I tighten my grip around The Mysterious and Amazing Blue Billings.
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Thank You
My husband. Thank you for reading this story first and convincing me to show other people. If it wasn’t for you, there wouldn’t be a Blue and Levi. But that’s appropriate because I wouldn’t be writing at all if you hadn’t persuaded me to give it a go and supported me so much.
My boys. I’m immensely proud of both of you and continually astonished that I had a small hand in you turning out so well.
Hailey. One of my best friends. Thank you for all your support and here’s to London again. This time I’ll wear trainers!
Edie. Thank you so much for doing an amazing proofreading job again and for being such a good friend.
Leslie, Courtney, and everyone at LesCourt Author Services. I couldn’t do it without you.
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The Mysterious and Amazing Blue Billings
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