Chapter Thirteen
The balmy early summer had come to an abrupt end when they got stuck into July, and now the sweet sunshine had given way to stormy skies and persistent, drizzling rain. It had driven Tone to stay in the flat more, highlighting how little space there was for three men to be living there together.
It was fine. Stan was coping.
Sort of.
With Ben’s recovery still in such early stages, Tone wasn’t ready to leave him yet, even if that did mean them all living on top of each other. Stan couldn’t blame Tone for that—Tone had been the one consistent supporter in Ben’s life for years, and now he needed him more than ever. They’d created a tiny microclimate in this little corner of London where Ben was making slow and steady improvements. That was the most important thing.
The box of clothes he’d begged his New York roommate to send over had arrived, and she hadn’t let him down. It turned out to be three fairly large boxes, containing his day-to-day staple wardrobe, with some fun things thrown in there too. And his shoes. And his designer bags.
With few other options, Stan unpacked the clothes into the closet in Tone’s room, and refused again Tone’s offer to swap beds. Stan had a feeling they weren’t going to last much longer, the three of them crowded into the flat together anyway. There was no need to cause a fuss for the sake of it.
Because Tone was a goddamned godsend.
“Gonna go get something from the market for lunch.”
Tone hauled himself up off the sofa, scratching at his beard. Like the others, he’d lost weight over the past few years. Except in Tone’s case, it wasn’t really a weight loss, more of a redistribution. His beer belly had almost gone, but he was barrel-chested and broad and still rather adorable. Stan had come to terms with his teeny tiny little crush on Tone a long time ago. It was harmless, after all. He definitely wasn’t going to do anything about it.
“Want anything?” he asked.
“Depends,” Stan said. “What are you going to get?”
“Dunno.” Tone patted his pockets, confirmed to himself that his phone and wallet were in them, and nodded. “I don’t mind going somewhere particular if you want something, though.”
“I want one of those Hawaiian poke bowls,” Ben said.
Both Tone and Stan turned to him, surprised. Ben hardly ever expressed an interest or an opinion on food.
“Any particular pokey bowl?” Tone asked.
“No, I don’t mind. I like it all. Oh, and Bang Bang Chicken. Get some of that too.”
“Okay. Stan love?”
“Poke bowls sound good to me. Nothing with red meat, but chicken or fish is fine.”
“Got it.”
Tone blinked at Ben again, then turned and left.
“I have an appointment again this afternoon,” Ben said. When Stan looked over, he was chewing on his bottom lip. “With Dr Freiberg.”
“Okay,” Stan said. “Do you want me to walk down there with you, or…?”
“No. I just wanted you to know.”
Trying to get through these conversations was often excruciating, but Stan tried to push on anyway.
“I don’t know if anyone else is telling you this, but I think you’re doing so well. I’m really proud of you.”
Ben wrinkled his nose and ducked his head. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“If you need anything you know you can ask me, right?”
“You might have noticed, Stan, but I’m not the best at asking for help.”
Stan grinned. “I had noticed, now you mention it.”
He didn’t want to push Ben any more, not when Ben seemed to be doing so well with actually expressing his feelings, so Stan got up and unloaded the dishwasher so they had clean plates to eat from, if they wanted to.
They were close enough to the market that it only took a few minutes for Tone to get back. Only he wasn’t alone.
“Sherrie,” Stan exclaimed.
She made a very high-pitched noise and all but danced over to pull him into a hug.
Sherrie was Geordie’s mum, who had adopted all of the band as her surrogate children and even went as far as buying them a house to live in. A really nice house, in Belsize Park, because she was loaded. Not that anyone could ever guess that. Today she was wearing tight jeans and a nice black sweater with a leather jacket over the top. When Stan had first met her, Sherrie’s style had leaned towards the gaudy. He’d worked with her, though. Now there wasn’t a single gold hoop earring in sight.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” she exclaimed, hugging Stan close, then holding him at arm’s length by the shoulders so she could look at him properly. “You’re looking so well.”
“Thank you,” Stan said with a grin that he wasn’t sure was entirely convincing.
“I literally just ran into Tone. It’s Emily’s birthday coming up, and I wanted to get her something she saw at the market, and—”
She broke off when she noticed Ben in the corner, who was doing a very good impression of someone who was trying to disappear into a sofa.
“Ben.”
“Hey, Sherrie.”
Sherrie held her arms out to him, leaving Ben no option but to go and be hugged by her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, gathering him close. After a second of hesitation, Ben returned her hug like he was starving for it. “It’s so good to see you. I missed you so much.”
Tone had deposited his bag of food on the kitchen counter and was eyeing it like a sad puppy.
“Do you want to stay for lunch, Sherrie?” Stan asked. “I’m sure there will be enough to go round.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I need to skedaddle in a bit anyway. I just wanted to come and say hello. You carry on, though. Tone looks hungry.”
“Tone always looks hungry,” Ben mumbled. That made her laugh.
“The others are still in LA, I take it?” Sherrie asked. She leaned against a counter and seemed content enough to watch them eat. “I’d like to think Geordie would tell me if he was coming home, but you never know with that boy.”
“Yeah.” Tone didn’t offer any other explanation, and Sherrie didn’t dig. Stan guessed she might go home and call Geordie. That would be an entirely different conversation, Stan was sure.
“Are you all living here?”
Stan nodded. “This is my place.”
Sherrie stared at them all for a moment. “Why didn’t you go back to the house?”
“What house?” Tone asked.
“Your house.” Sherrie rolled her eyes. “Up the road.”
Tone shrugged. He was far more interested in his double portion of whatever it was he’d ordered.
“It’s still there, if you want to move back in,” Sherrie said.
Stan had a good idea where this was going, and he was more than a little conflicted. The Belsize Park house was where they’d been living when everything fell apart. Stan had packed his things and moved out of there and into this flat, after staying with one of his friends for a few weeks. It held a lot of memories, and not all of them good.
He also really didn’t want to disrupt Ben too much. Not when things were going so well.