Free Now and Then Friends by Kate Hewitt Page B

followed.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause there’s no one I want to talk to on it.”
    â€œOuch.”
    â€œSorry,” she said as she turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I didn’t think you’d call. You usually don’t.”
    She hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but Andrew must have taken it as one because he answered, “I know I should be in better touch.”
    â€œI didn’t mean it like that. But why are you here, Andrew? It’s not like you to come back to Cumbria. You were rubbishing Hartley-by-the-Sea to me a few days ago.” She gazed at him, trying to see something in his expression, but as ever, Andrew was blank-faced, unsmiling, his dark hair a little damp from the rain.
    â€œI have a couple days before my next project, which happens to be near Manchester,” he said. “So I decided to come back for a bit.”
    â€œHow long?”
    â€œFour days.”
    She nodded, taking a deep breath before voicing her fear. “Are you checking up on me?”
    â€œWould that be such a bad thing?”
    â€œI’m not a baby.”
    â€œI didn’t say you were.”
    Claire expelled a frustrated breath. This was how conversations with Andrew always went. He won everything, even Monopoly. “I don’t need anyone being worried about me.”
    â€œSorry, but that’s not your choice.”
    â€œI’m fine—”
    â€œReally, Claire?” The words were a challenge, but his voice was gentle.
    Claire’s strength to stand up to her brother evaporated. “I wish you hadn’t come,” she mumbled.
    â€œDo you want me to leave?”
    She didn’t know if the question was genuine—when did Andrew ever do what she wanted?—but she pretended it was. “No, not now that you’re here.” She realized she meant it, stupidly perhaps. Four Gables was huge, but it was going to feel very small with Andrew watching her all the time, measuring how much vodka and whiskey was in their dad’s dusty bottles, thinking she was on the brink of toppling into alcoholism. She hadn’t even been tempted to have a drink in the four weeks of rehab. She’d barely drunk anything during university; hard liquor had made her sick. But Andrew wasn’t going to listen to her feeble protests. No one was.
    â€œYou don’t sound convinced,” he remarked, and she sighed.
    â€œI’m not. But like I said, you’re here.” Her earlier euphoria about landing a job had started to trickle away. It was such a small, silly thing. “What are you doing in Manchester, anyway?”
    â€œWorking on some repairs to the Ridgegate Reservoir near Macclesfield.”
    â€œRight.” Which made putting bread on shelves for a wage definitely feel a bit
less than.
    â€œClaire . . .” Andrew’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. “Look, I know you’ve been through a difficult time. . . .”
    Claire winced at the prospect of some emotive spiel from her brother. Or worse, yet another warning about how she shouldn’t be alone. “Look, I need to shower and change,” she said. “I’m soaked just from walking here from the post office. I forgot how wet and windy Cumbria is.”
    â€œYou didn’t get water in your ear?”
    For a second she was propelled back to school days, when Andrew had been charged with Making Sure Claire Didn’t Do Something Stupid.
    â€œNo, but in any case, a few drops of water won’t actually—”
    â€œRemember, the doctor said you could go completely deaf if you got water in your bad ear.”
    As if she’d ever forget. “I’m going to shower,” Claire said, and left the kitchen without waiting for a response.
    Upstairs she turned on the shower full blast and reached for the earplugs she’d been required to wear since she was four. It didn’t usually