Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

What a difference a week made.

The previous weekend, Mercury had been playing over in his mind the conversation he'd had with Nick and worrying that he was totally unfit to be at Bodhi House. Now, he found himself counting down the hours until he could go back.

It was only Saturday morning and the hours seemed to stretch out in front of him.

"Is your mother away again?" Gwen asked as she finished off cleaning the kitchen.

"Yeah. On location. Cyprus, I think."

Gwen wandered through, dusting one of Madeline's obscenely expensive sculptures she had picked up somewhere.

"Me and Bill went there last year. Very nice indeed."

"I'd be grateful for a weekend in Clacton right now."

Gwen perched on the end of the chaise longue that Mercury had draped himself over.

"I hope you're not feeling sorry for yourself, young man," she said. "You got off very lightly. Whatever were you thinking?"

To his astonishment, tears welled up. "Gwen, I've never lied to you, have I?"

She raised her eyebrows "What about that time you tried to fool me that Darius had stolen your mother's diamond necklace?"

"Gwen, I was eleven. That doesn't count. Anyway, she caught him cheating three weeks later so basically, I would have saved her a ton of heartache."

She wiped an imaginary bit of dust off the furniture. "Hardly the point. Anyway, I get the feeling you want to tell me something. Out with it or do I have to tempt you with my magical milkshake? I remember when you'd come in from school full of some worry or other. I'd always get it out of you with a milkshake and a cuddle."

Mercury almost burst with affection for her. "It is good, but no, not today. I'm being deadly serious when I say I didn't do it. That pig Grim cornered me in his stupid tunnel and grabbed my glass. It was a setup."

He had told her this before the trial. However, she'd supported his mother and told him to own up to things, that the court would go a lot easier on him. Now that he had nothing to gain, he wanted one person on this planet to believe him. Even Lotty had seemed doubtful.

"My love, none of it matters now. I agree with your mother. Do your punishment with no drama and move on. Now, I've got to go. Bill's taking me to the cinema tonight. We're celebrating."

"Ooh, what?"

"Bill's passed his counselling diploma. He can now practice. Fancy going down a whole new career path at fifty-five!"

Her grin betrayed her words.

"Pah. You're proud of him. You can't fool me," Mercury said.

Gwen blushed. "I am really. When he got laid off, I really worried."

"I remember. It's absolutely brilliant the way he's turned this around."

"Thanks, love. Helped a lot by you and your mother. We'll never forget it."

Mercury leapt up. "Tell you what," he said, dashing over to the refrigerator, "why don't you start your night off right? Or finish it?"

He retrieved a bottle of champagne and took it over to Gwen.

"Less of the sauce, young man," Gwen said. "Thank you."

Their relationship had transcended employer and employee. Mercury and Madeline lavished Gwen and her family with the same gifts they did anyone else in their lives. Madeline had taught Mercury from an early age that money should be shared.

"What are your plans, my love?"

He raised his ankle. "Bugger all."

"That's only in the evenings. Get yourself out and about. It's a beautiful day. Mercury Morrison does not sulk. Remember?"

He flopped down on the chaise longue. "Yes, Gwen," he said with a sigh. "I remember."

Once she'd gone off to her date with Bill, Mercury threw on a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. He caught sight of himself in the mirror. His mother stared back. They were two peas in a pod with raven-dark hair and bright blue eyes. Yet, he'd inherited his father's Syrian olive skin. Not a bad combination even if he said so himself.

"Stop moping," he said to his reflection.

By the time he got out onto Queens Crescent, his spirits had lifted. He would mooch over to Queens Parade and buy a whole treasure trove of culinary treats to veg out in the garden with. It was another sunny day. With the house to himself, he didn't have to be on his own.

He got out his mobile and called Bobby.

"Hi, babe," Bobby said.

"Hey. How do you fancy a lazy afternoon in the garden followed by an even lazier evening with a movie and treats?"

"No can do, my love," Bobby replied. "I'm in Glasgow."

"Oh, you never said."

"I didn't want you sticking your lip out because you're under house arrest."

"I wouldn't stick my lip out."

"You bloody would."

Mercury sighed. "Fine. Have a great time."

"Try Jeannie."

"She's in Milan."

"Lotty?"

"New York."

"Oh dear, we should have organised a rota."

"Bloody hell, I'm a big boy. I can entertain myself."

"I'll ring you in the week."

He terminated the call before Mercury even had a chance to reply. It must be nice to be busy. The communal gardens which Queens Crescent curved around were empty. Usually there was someone or other sunbathing or playing a game to say hello to.

In dire need of distraction, Mercury stared at the phone still in his hand.

Maybe.

He had left the key each resident had for the iron gate at the house. Still, he had climbed over that fence on more than one occasion. He still had it in him.

Mercury got a foothold and swung his leg over.

"Mercury Morrison."

He froze.

"Mrs Wimpole."

Fuck. She guarded those gardens like a ninja. Where had she come from? He glanced around until he saw her hanging out of her first-floor window. In the Georgian townhouses, the drawing rooms were all on the first floor. For Mrs Wimpole it was a prime lookout point.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I forgot my key."

"There are some brand-new camelias in that bed. If you trample on them, I'll have your hide. You've been in enough trouble lately."

Mercury saluted and propelled his body so he cleared the flower bed.

"Camelias remain intact."

"Just you make sure they survive your return."

She slammed the window down. Mercury wasn't fooled—she would be watching him for the duration of his stay in the garden.

He made his way to the bench that was surrounded by white hydrangeas. It was breathtaking. Mrs Wimpole had arranged for it to be planted when her husband died. He had loved the gardens and now she protected them with such vigour.

Flopping down, Mercury positioned his phone and pressed Record .

"Hey, everyone. I hope you're good. Thank you so much for the feedback on my video last week. It means the world to know you're all still there. No Madeline today, I'm afraid. I thought I'd give you a life update."

He stared over at the house he shared with his mother. It had always been a sanctuary, yet now, in the space of a week, it had become a prison. A top-class one, but a prison nonetheless.

"I've done the first week of my community service. I can't and won't give details of it. That wouldn't be fair. I guess I wanted to say that it's really making me think. While I'm lying low, I've been considering whether I should carry on with this channel and if I do, what changes to make. I'd love to hear from you. Hit me up in the comments—tell me what you're doing today and what you'd like to see from me. See you soon."

Not waiting for doubt to seize him, he uploaded the video and pressed Send .

"Let's see what becomes of that."

What he was really wondering was what would Nick think of it. Not that he expected him to be a subscriber but one of the kids might tell him. In the past he'd said whatever came to mind in his videos. He rarely planned them. Now, he was picturing Nick on the other side. That gave things a whole different sheen.

Mercury found that he really did care what that person thought of him.

What the fuck is happening to me?