Lee rested back
in his seat, half-closed his eyes, and took a long, deep breath.
“You’re okay?”
Patrick asked.
“Bruised but
comfortable. Relieved.” Lee smiled. “Though I don’t think I’ll be taking up
Olympic athletics any time soon.”
Patrick smiled
too. “If you take your time, who knows? Seriously, we can get you a chair at
home if needs be—”
Lee’s snort of
complaint was enough answer for that.
“Um.” Patrick
cleared his throat. “You remembered I don’t have a car, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, of
course. But I had to tell Mum and Dad you’d drive me home or they’d have hung
around for even longer.” He looked down at his hands, clasped loosely in his
lap. “I love them, of course I do. I just don’t want all this bloody fuss.”
“But you are
still recovering.” Silence fell between them while Patrick tried to think of
the right thing to say. “I’ll get a cab to take you home.” Another silence.
Patrick had no idea why he was finding it so hard to chat easily to the man