Heart (12 page)

“Look at it like this.” Rick sank back onto his favorite bar stool. “This way, I don’t feel like I’m taking the piss out of you, and you get to add some more skills to your belt. It’s an opportunity, lad. Take it while it’s there.”

Put like that, how could Dex refuse? “Okay.”

“Okay.” Rick grinned and flipped through the papers on the bar. “I had a woman come in and teach a few lads a couple of years ago. She was pretty good, but there’s a place in Tottenham you could go to if you didn’t want to do it here. It’s an Irish center, actually. They help a lot of Traveller kids there.”

“What? No… no, I want to do it here.”

“All right, lad, all right. I’ll give her a ring and get back to you, okay? In the meantime, I think you better stay with Seb on puds for the next month or so. He’s a good teacher, and he’ll help you with this as well. That all sound good to you?”

Dex nodded and backed toward the door. The prospect of spending the next four weeks by Seb’s side was equal parts thrilling and scary as hell, but he was done talking about himself, and the urge to bolt back to the kitchen was too strong to ignore. Rick let him go, and he spent the rest of the day trying to decipher Seb’s instructions for the lime and mango cake. All things considered, it didn’t turn out too bad.

D
EX
ZIPPED
up his coat against the frosty chill. It was early, barely seven, but the night before, Seb had decided he’d had enough of the kitchen and told him to meet him at the nearest Underground station in the morning to help him gather some specialty supplies.

Dex had never been on the Tube. He’d spent a lot of time in the Underground stations, but he’d never boarded an actual train. Seb didn’t notice his wide-eyed hesitancy when he hustled him into a carriage. He seemed preoccupied with something on his phone, and Dex was content to slump in the seat next to him and watch the black tunnel whiz by the windows.

A little while later, the train jerked to a stop. Dex looked around, but as far as he could tell, they hadn’t pulled into a station. He shifted in his seat. What had they stopped for? Was it like the buses when the inspectors got on and checked your tickets? Seb said his Oyster card was fine for the Tube, but what if he was wrong?

Seb squeezed his arm. “It’s just a queue to get in the station. Won’t be long.”

He went back to his phone, but the scorching heat of his touch remained long after he’d withdrawn his hand.

Dex stared at his arm in consternation. Over the past few days, Seb had kept him so busy, he’d almost forgotten the haze of that summer hanging over them, but out in the real world, without the noise and chaos of the kitchen to distract him, it felt more real and intoxicating than ever.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Dex blinked and realized the train had rumbled the last few yards into the station. He followed Seb off the train and looked up at the sign. “Where are we?”

“King’s Cross, but we’re getting another train to Angel. Come on, this way.”

Dex followed him through the station and down the biggest escalator he’d ever seen. “Why are we going down again?”

“This line is really deep.”

Oh
.

They arrived in Angel ten minutes later, and after another trip on a grotesquely long escalator, Dex was relieved to get aboveground again. He trailed after Seb as he visited a few specialty shops. He kept his head down in most of them, but the chocolate shop smelled too good for him to resist chancing a furtive glance around.

Seb grinned and shoved a chocolate button into Dex’s mouth. The surprise attack caught Dex off-guard, but the chocolate was good,
really
good, so he let it slide.

After the chocolate shop, Seb veered off toward a supermarket. Dex faltered. London was a diverse city, and the big green sign was the first shop he’d recognized. “I can’t go in there.”

Seb didn’t hear him. Dex bit his lip and considered letting him go on without him, but he was carrying half of Seb’s purchases, and he didn’t want him to think he’d stolen them. “
Seb.
”

Seb froze and turned around slowly.

Dex didn’t quite understand the expression in his face. He pointed to the sign. “I’m not allowed in there.”

“What?” Seb frowned. “You’re not allowed in Waitrose? Why not?”

Dex shrugged. He didn’t really know the answer to that, he just knew he wasn’t allowed in. “I’ll wait here.”

Seb’s gaze flickered rapidly between him and the entrance to the shop, then comprehension dawned on his features. “Dex, it’s illegal to ban people from shops based on their race. You can go wherever you want.”

Dex shook his head and planted his feet on the pavement. Seb was a gorjer. He’d never understand. “I’m not
allowed
in there.”

“Yes, you are. They don’t profile customers at the front doors. I told you, it’s illegal.”

Dex didn’t budge. Seb stared him down for a moment before he realized he wasn’t going to win. He sighed and disappeared into the shop. Dex slunk over to the wall to wait for him. A dog was tied up outside. It was long-legged and wiry and reminded him of the lurchers his da used to keep before another family took them away. Leap, Ennis, and… Dex couldn’t recall the name of the third, but he remembered crying himself to sleep every night after they were gone.

The journey back to Stoke Newington seemed to take longer than it had the first time round. The trains were busier too, and when they hit the aboveground lines, they had to stand. The rail track was bumpy and rough. The train jolted and Dex stumbled. Seb wrapped his arms around him, steadying him, and it took Dex a while to notice he never let go.

“W
HAT
ARE
you doing now?”

Dex stepped into his battered trainers. “Putting my shoes on.”

Seb sighed from the staff room doorway. “I didn’t mean literally. Are you going straight home?”

Dex frowned. It was after midnight, and they’d only just cleaned the kitchen down. Where else would he go? “It’s late.”

“I know. Long day, eh? I’m bloody starving. Come on. Let’s get some real food.”

They headed out into the night. Seb didn’t say much and Dex didn’t say anything at all, but the quiet was lost in their surroundings. It was Saturday night, and the north London streets were alive with a heady buzz of energy. No one here went to bed before dawn.

After a while, Dex noticed they’d left the vibrancy of Stoke Newington behind and wandered into an altogether darker part of town. The air was heavy with the scent of spicy food, herbs, and a hint of danger. “Where are we?”

“Dalston. It’s where the Turks live. See all these cutthroat barber shops?” Dex followed Seb’s gaze. “Them and the kebab shops stay open all night. Have you got a quid?”

Dex fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. He held out his hand and watched curiously as Seb helped himself to a few coins. “What are we getting that costs a quid?”

“Lahmacun,” Seb answered, as though it was obvious. “Best shit in London. Lived on them when I was a student.”

He ducked into a shop with a giant chunk of spinning meat in the window. To Dex, it looked like something from the dog food factory Braden used to sell his old horses to. Or a maypole from a horror film.

“Here you go.”

Dex accepted a warm roll of wax paper. “What is it?”

“I told you. Lahmacun. Try it.”

The glint in Seb’s eyes was endearing and made him look like a young boy. Dex peeled back the paper and found soft white flatbread rolled up round a thin layer of warmly spiced minced meat. He took a bite. It was… amazing. Suspiciously amazing. “This cost a pound?”

“Yep. Always has, and probably always will. I used to have them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner back in the day.”

Dex nodded around a mouthful of food. Half the roll was gone already, but he couldn’t stop stuffing more in his mouth.

Seb watched him with a soft smile as he ate his own food. When Dex was done, he inclined his head toward the shop. “Want another one?”

Dex considered his answer and shook his head. He could probably eat another three, but he knew the more he ate, the more likely he was to wake up hungry, and he was still getting used to the fact that he could do something about it. Either that, or he was still waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him.

They began walking again, though they didn’t seem to be heading anywhere in particular. Seb finished his food and put their rubbish in a nearby bin. “Where’s your place? Is it near here?”

Dex gestured back toward Stoke Newington. “It’s not far.”

“Is it a flat?”

“No, it’s a hostel. Rick got me a room.”

“St. Mary’s?”

“Think so.”

Seb didn’t say anything, and after a while, his silence got under Dex’s skin. He folded his arms over his chest and huffed out an annoyed puff of air. “Where do
you
live?”

Seb touched his shoulders lightly and turned him round, pointing to a huge utilitarian-type building on the other side of the road. “Right there. Come on. I’ll show you.”

It was a less impassioned plea than the last time Seb had invited him into his home, but fueled by a full belly and a wave of emotion he didn’t quite understand, Dex crossed the road and followed Seb into the building.

Seb’s flat was on the fourth floor. The lift that took them to the uppermost floor was so tiny Dex had to stand practically on top of Seb, and it reminded him of the strange embrace they’d shared on the Tube a few weeks earlier. The door to Seb’s flat was on a balcony that doubled as a walkway. Dex stared out at the city skyline as Seb led the way. At ground level, London was dirty and noisy, but up so high, the twinkling streetlights and spooky silence made it seem almost mystical.

“This is me.” Seb opened a thick gray door and stood back. “Come on in.”

Dex stepped inside. The heavy door slammed shut behind him. He swallowed his nerves and took in Seb’s home.

Wow. His eyes widened and he felt his mouth fall open. He had sketchy memories of Seb’s seaside cottage in Padstow—he’d had other things on his mind—but he was pretty certain it had been nothing like the ultramodern luxury of the converted warehouse flat. Shiny wooden floors. Weird pictures on the walls. There was even a metal spiral staircase that led up to another level.

Seb caught Dex’s bemusement. “That’s the bedroom. This is the living space and the kitchen. Bathroom is down the hall on the right. You want a beer?”

Dex shook his head. He really needed to tell Seb he didn’t like beer.

“Here, have one of these, then. My sister left them here last weekend.”

“Your sister?” Dex took the lurid blue bottle and took an experimental sip. It tasted a bit like the drink Seb had bought him the day he’d started at Rick’s restaurant.

“Kelly lives in Farringdon. She pops over from time to time.” Seb took his coat off, hung it over the railing of the spiral staircase, and flopped down on the sofa. He looked tired, and Dex didn’t blame him. It had been a long day.

He drifted to the bookcase and looked at the neat rows of books, CDs, and DVDs. Despite his first tentative sessions with his teacher, Mel, the writing on them still meant nothing, but one DVD title caught his eye. “What’s that?”

Seb glanced at the shelf and looked a little sheepish. “
Swiss Family Robinson
. I’d like to say it’s my dad’s, or even my granddad’s, but it’s mine.”

Dex looked closer at the spine of the DVD. “I think my aunt used to have that on video. Is that the one where they get shipwrecked on an island and make bombs out of coconuts?”

Seb laughed. “Yeah, that’s the one. I used to watch the big battle at the end over and over, until I got older and just freeze-framed on Fritz.”

“The one with the curly hair?”

“Yep. He was hot. Probably still is. Want to watch it?”

Dex shrugged. If Seb wanted to, it was fine by him. It was his home, after all. He thought about heading back to the hostel, but Seb’s softly lit living room was warm, and he didn’t feel like facing the cold again yet.

“Take your coat off. I’ve got some Twiglets somewhere.”

Seb fiddled around while Dex took off his coat and sat on the end of the sofa. A bowl of Marmite-flavored corn twigs appeared in front of him, and the huge TV on the wall flickered on a moment later, bathing the room in a weird blue light until the familiar opening theme of the film replaced it.

Dex stared at the screen in wonder. The film was exactly how he remembered it, only bigger and brighter. The TV in his aunt’s caravan had been tiny, its picture grainy and blurred. This was something else. He’d never seen anything like it.

Seb slid onto the other end of the couch, clicked the lamp off, and tucked his feet beneath him. “You’ll get square eyes if you stare at it like that. Sit back and get comfy. You’ve got two hours to drink it all in.”

Dex hadn’t realized he’d leaned forward like a kid in a sweet shop. He glanced at Seb, who looked like he was about to fall asleep, and followed his lead, leaning back on the cushions and curling his legs beneath him.

He rested his head on his arm and watched the stormy shipwreck unfold on the screen. His favorite part was when the Robinson family rescued the animals from the sea and built a new life for themselves on the uninhabited island, and he fell asleep to the sound of squabbling siblings and racing zebras.

Fifteen