I grinned, keeping my back to him.
“Okay, tough guy.”
I made our tea, turned and carried the cups over to the table, placing one on a coaster in front of me then the other in front of Risk. When I sat down and looked at Risk, I couldn’t pretend this was normal.
“This is so bloody weird.” I fidgeted with my hands. “I can’t believe you’re in my kitchen, drinking tea.”
Risk leaned back in the chair, letting his long legs stretch out. He glanced around with fondness, if I wasn’t mistaken.
“It feels smaller.”
“You probably just got taller.”
“Smart arse.” Risk grinned. “I haven’t grown an inch. I’m still six four.”
“I haven’t grown an inch either, I’m still five nothing.”
“I’ve gathered that, Frodo.”
“Don’t start with me, Gandalf!”
Risk’s amused smile made me laugh. The familiar teasing of one another’s height helped break the ice that we walked on. While it eased the tension, it couldn’t take away how bizarre it was to sit across from Risk while drinking a cup of tea. It was almost like not seeing each other for years wasn’t a big deal, but it was.
“I thought you had changed,” I said to him. “After last night, I thought you weren’t the person I knew.”
“I have changed. I’m just not cruel, you were right about that.” He nodded. “I’m still the same person in a lot of ways, I’ve just grown up.”
I guess I was in the same boat as him.
“Is it weird being back here?” I sipped my tea. “I bet it is, nothing has changed.”
“It’s so weird,” Risk shook his head. “It’s kind of scary how similar everything is, but it’s also really nice.”
“I bet.” I nodded. “I always loved that the only thing to change about Southwold were the faces.”
Risk glanced at my necklace then moved his eyes to the air box that was still on the wall. “Has your asthma improved any?”
I shook my head when he looked back at me.
He frowned. “I was hoping that was one thing that would change.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, touched he was somewhat concerned for my health. “My asthma is part of me, I honestly don’t know what life would be like without it.”
Risk ran his finger over the handle of his cup.
“How is your mum doing?”
“She’s in St Elizabeth Hospice right now,” I shifted. “She transferred from the hospital recently. She has pneumonia that is getting worse and worse. Her doctor said we’re in the end stages now.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, Frankie.”
“Thank you,” I smiled politely. “I always knew this time would come, but now that it’s here, it feels like its crept up on me out of nowhere. Time really is no man’s friend.”
“Would be it okay for me to visit her?” Risk asked tentatively. “Your mum was always so great to me.”
“Um, sure.” I played with my fingers. “She won’t remember you, though. She doesn’t know who I am most days, Michael either.”
“Fuck, Frankie. I’m so sorry.”
He’d said that twice now.
“It is what is it.” I scratched my neck. “I’ve known for a long time that this was going to happen.”
We fell into a silence until Risk asked a question that seemed to bother him.
“Do you see them often?”
“Who?”
“Them.” Risk cracked his neck. “The people I lived with.”
I noted that he couldn’t even say Owen and Freda’s names and I didn’t blame him one bit. It probably left a foul taste in his mouth.
I cleared my throat. “I see Owen every now and then.”
“And her?”
“She died two years ago,” I replied, looking up. “Lung cancer.”
Risk looked shocked for a moment before he nodded once.
“Good.” He clenched his teeth. “I’m glad she’s dead.”
I frowned at him. “You shouldn’t be.”
“I shouldn’t be?” Risk repeated, gobsmacked. “Have you forgotten what happened to me in that house? By their hands?”
“No,” I answered calmly. “I haven’t, but I do know that you’re better than them. You always have been and living your life to the fullest is how to get your revenge on them. I wouldn’t be glad of anything for either of them, not the good or the bad. I wouldn’t give them a second of my time if I was you.”
Risk said nothing as he digested my words.
“They got three new kids not long after you left, but I made sure it didn’t last long.” I drank my tea. “I tipped off the police and the kids’ primary school, a dozen times. The kids were removed from the Days’ care a week after they arrived. An investigation was done soon after and, while neither of them went to prison, they did lose their license. They’ve never had another child to take care of since then.”
Risk’s jaw dropped and his eyes, there was a mixture of sadness and relief in his blue orbs.
“You wouldn’t let me do it for you,” I said, not waiting for him to ask why I did what I did. “I hated how you continued to live with them, I hated them both for the pain they put you through so when you left and they got new kids, there was no way I was sitting by anymore.”