A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business #2) - Barbara Elsborg Page 0,2

Jonty were in each other’s arms. First kiss. First touch. Am I gay too?

*

Tay sensed he’d woken in a different place. The air smelled different. The sounds were different. Home. Far from being pleased, he wanted to rail at his parents. He wasn’t better yet. Why weren’t the doctors making him well?

Because there’s nothing they can do.

This is all you get.

What do you wish for? This life or death?

The black snake of depression overpowered everything. Was there really nothing more that could be done? This was his life? Unable to move independently, unable to communicate? A living death? He swung between acceptance and rejection, flailing his arms or legs to show he could, though never with the power he’d hoped for. His attempts to speak came out as groans and grunts.

I want to die.

I want to live.

But not like this.

His family hadn’t given up. His mother’s voice was constantly encouraging him to talk, move, squeeze her hand. More importantly, Jonty hadn’t given up. He still believed Tay would get better, so Tay kept breathing. As if I have a choice. He longed for Jonty’s visits. Jonty chattered as if Tay was responding to him. He talked and talked and said things that made Tay want to laugh and he hoped he had. I’m here.

*

Jonty never gave up. That thought repeated in Tay’s head. Jonty had put up with such a lot and he stayed upbeat. Even when his father broke Jonty’s arm, a couple of ribs, and a bone in his back, Jonty had struggled into school and was taken to hospital for the second time. On that occasion, Tay didn’t stay quiet. He went to see the headmaster. Social services were involved and Jonty never went home again.

Tay wasn’t sorry he’d spoken out. He felt guilty for not having done it before. But Jonty didn’t know Tay was the reason he ended up being taken away from his father. Tay wanted to care for Jonty forever, but now Jonty was the one having to care for him and Tay hated that he was so helpless. Their relationship had changed, and not in the way Tay wanted.

*

It wasn’t hard to detest his life. All the times he’d ever thought he was unhappy paled into insignificance compared to this. Every complaint, every whine, none of it mattered. When he was better, he’d make the most of every second of his life.

But what if he didn’t come out of this? What if this was all he’d ever have? He wouldn’t even be able to communicate that he wanted to die. He wished he hadn’t survived the fall. He was ruining the lives of his parents, stifling Jonty’s. Not his girlfriend’s. She’d not come to see him, he didn’t think, and he was glad. The relationship had been a lie anyway. He’d tried to feel something, but Jonty had his heart, had always had his heart and now he’d never have the chance to tell him.

*

Tay and Jonty sat on their boards off Bamburgh beach, enjoying the view and the sunshine, chatting while they waited for the perfect wave. Sometimes it was as much about chatting as it was about surfing. Tay talked about university, Jonty about his job at McAllister’s.

That day, a rare day, they were without wetsuits. Ten days of continuous sunshine hadn’t made much difference to the sea temperature, but since they spent most of the time sitting on their boards, it was too hot to be covered up. Tay snuck looks at Jonty’s slender body whenever he could.

“Have you stopped with the piercings now?” Tay asked as Jonty twisted the one in his eyebrow. “Aren’t you worried you’ll spring a leak?”

“I was thinking about getting my cock done.”

Tay almost fell off his board.

“A line of piercings all the way down. What do you think?”

“That I’d break my teeth.”

Jonty laughed. “Okay. Won’t do it then.”

Tay wished Jonty had taken him seriously.

*

Tay’s periods of awareness gradually increased in number and length, though they rarely coincided with him being able to open his eyes. That required too much effort. But he listened more carefully to what his mother was saying, explaining what was the matter with him. He’d been in a coma, and then in a minimally conscious state, following a traumatic head injury. She was sure he’d get better, kept telling him he would.

Jonty’s visits were precious glimpses of both his best friend and a life beyond the room he was in. Jonty told him about guests at the hotel, then