‘Where are you, Keats?’ she asked, trying to count the buttons the devious, manipulative man had just pressed.
‘Kingfisher Street, Norton. Why do you want to know?’ Keats asked.
‘You already know the answer to that. We’ll be there in ten minutes.’
FOURTEEN
Penn closed the oven door on the muffins. ‘Okay, twenty-five minutes,’ he said, passing the timer to Jasper.
The oven had a built-in timer but Jasper preferred the portable one their mum had bought him when he’d first started cooking.
‘Shall we roll out some dough and make a pizza while we wait?’ Penn asked.
Jasper was already shaking his head before he’d finished the sentence.
‘Okay, what do you want to do?’ Penn asked.
Jasper started edging towards the door.
‘You wanna go join Billy on the Xbox?’
Jasper nodded eagerly.
‘Go on then,’ Penn said, collecting up all the bowls and utensils.
Jasper trotted back and enfolded him in a bear hug.
‘Thanks, Ozzy, love you.’
Penn shook his head with mock despair as Jasper headed up to his bedroom.
Last night he’d collected him from chess club, and Thursday night it was a line dancing class he’d found himself online. Friday night he’d have his weekly sleepover at Billy’s, which had somehow managed to stretch until Sunday morning.
He had checked that Billy’s parents didn’t mind the extra person in the house, but they had assured him they were relieved to see Billy spending time with a real person and not online. He felt the exact same way.
He began to fill the dishwasher, trying not to overthink the fact that Jasper couldn’t seem to get out of the kitchen fast enough.
He’d felt as though he’d been close to begging his brother to do something with him that he had always loved to do. Jasper had given in and they’d made the muffins, but something had been niggling at him. There had been, at times, an expression on his brother’s face that was familiar to him but he just couldn’t place.
Suddenly the truth dawned on him. The expression had come from himself.
There was no question that raising Jasper had been a family affair. Their dad’s overtime had provided the extra money needed for Jasper to attend a nursery for kids with Down’s syndrome and other challenges. His mother had provided the loving and nurturing, and he’d provided the fun. Except some days he hadn’t wanted to provide the fun. Some days he’d wanted to be out on his bike. Some days he’d wanted to go with his mates to meet girls at the park. And on those days, he could imagine the tolerant look of sacrifice he’d worn on his face.
He set the dishwasher to go and began preparing Jasper’s lunchbox for the following day. Was this how it felt for a parent once their child sought the early stages of independence?
At no one’s request had he moved his entire life around for Jasper’s sake. The minute he’d known of his mother’s terminal illness, he had given up his flat, moved back into the family home and transferred back to West Mids Police. He had never regretted that decision for a minute. He’d enjoyed spending the extra time with Jasper, and it had brought them even closer as brothers. He had always known that Jasper’s long-term care and supervision would fall to him and he’d grown into that role. Except he hadn’t expected Jasper to have a better social life than him, or more friends.
He smiled with pride. Jasper didn’t let anything hold him back.
But, for himself, the future didn’t look how he had once thought it would. Right now, he felt like the slowest guy in the race.
Jasper would always need him to some degree but more as a safety net than a full-on parent. And no one had ever warned him how hard making that adjustment was going to be. Penn knew it was time to let go.
But how the hell was he supposed to do that?
FIFTEEN
Kingfisher Street was approximately a quarter of a mile away from Norton Covert, a former sand and gravel pit naturally revegetated and now designated as a site of importance for nature conservation.