‘What for?’ Freddie said.
Jo hesitated. ‘You know,’ she said, looking across the garden, shielding her eyes with her hand. ‘Take Stella to see the horses or something. Maybe you’ll bump into Lana. It’s such a nice morning. There’s no point spending it indoors.’
Freddie made a noise – a cross between a laugh and a snort. He stared at the ground and shook his head a couple of times. ‘Yeah, OK, I’ll take Stella out. But you wake her up.’ He turned and disappeared through the French doors into the darkness of the kitchen.
Once he was out of earshot, Jo frowned. ‘How do you think he seemed?’ she asked.
‘Tall,’ Lorraine replied flippantly. ‘Why?’
Jo wrapped her fingers around her mug. She brought it to her mouth and took a long sip, taking a moment to gaze around the garden again. Lorraine could see she wasn’t admiring the flowers, rather trying to figure out how to say what was on her mind.
‘I’ve been worried about him, that’s all.’
‘How come?’
‘He’s just not been himself recently. He’s quiet, sullen, rude even. Some days he doesn’t even get out of bed. And he’s stopped seeing his mates.’
‘Sounds like a normal eighteen-year-old. Girl troubles, perhaps?’
‘I wish,’ Jo said. ‘That would mean he’d actually made an effort, bothered to go out, meet friends, socialise, be normal. He’s just spent all his time in his room on his computer the last few months.’
‘Probably just a phase.’ Lorraine looked at her sister, admired her deep blue eyes and glossy blonde hair, and sighed. ‘But maybe he’s taken your separation harder than you thought. He is really close to Malc.’
Jo shifted uncomfortably. ‘I wondered about that too, but he was like it before Malc left.’ She rubbed her eyes, and when she looked at Lorraine again, there was real fear in her face. ‘I often hear him crying,’ she said. ‘Up in his room. Not just normal crying, but a deep, soul-ripping, aching crying.’ There was a pause. ‘It scares me.’ She paused again. ‘You know, after everything, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.’
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