‘I don’t think brothers count.’
There was a sudden flicker of warmth behind Gemma’s eyes. ‘That’s a very sensible rule.’
‘No problem,’ Jess said. ‘Anyway, I’ve wanted to do it quite often myself over the past few days.’
Bob Nicholls lay in a hospital bed, a blanket up to his chin and his hands resting gently on its surface. It was clear from the pallor of his skin and the way the bones of his skull were almost visible that he was not a well man. His breathing was laboured and his head swivelled slowly towards the door as they entered. An oxygen mask sat on a bedside table, and two faint indents on his cheek told of its recent use. He was painful to look at.
‘Hey, Dad.’
Jess watched Ed struggle to hide his shock. He stooped towards him and hesitated, before touching his father lightly on the shoulder.
‘Edward.’ His voice was a croak, but there was still something weighty within it.
‘Doesn’t he look well, Bob?’ said his mother.
His father studied him from under shadowed lids. When he spoke, it was slowly, and with deliberation, as if he had an allotted number of words to use.
‘No. He looks like someone beat the living daylights out of him.’
Jess could see the new colour on Ed’s cheekbone where his sister had hit him. She found herself reaching unconsciously towards her injured lip.
‘Where’s he been, anyway?’
‘Dad, this is Jess.’
His father’s eyes slid towards her. His eyebrow lifted a quarter of an inch. ‘And what the hell happened to your face?’ he whispered to her.
‘I had an argument with a car. My fault.’
‘Is that what happened to him?’
She didn’t blink. ‘Yes.’
He regarded her for a moment longer. ‘You look like trouble,’ he said. ‘Are you trouble?’
Gemma leant forwards. ‘Dad! Jess is Ed’s friend.’
He dismissed her. ‘If there’s one small advantage to having very little time left then surely it’s that I can say whatever I like. She doesn’t look offended. Are you offended? I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name. I don’t seem to have any brain cells any more.’
‘Jess. No. I’m not offended.’
He kept staring.
‘And, yes, I probably am trouble,’ she said, holding his gaze.
His smile was slow to arrive, but when it came she could see, fleetingly, how he must have looked before he got ill. ‘Glad to hear it. I always liked girls who were trouble. And this one has been head-down in front of a computer for far too long.’
‘How are you, Dad?’
His father blinked. ‘I’m dying.’
‘We’re all dying, Dad,’ Gemma said.
‘Don’t give me your social-worker sophistry. I am dying uncomfortably rapidly. I have few faculties left, and very little dignity. I will probably not make the end of the cricket season. Does that answer your question?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ed said quietly. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been.’
‘You’ve been busy.’
‘About that …’ Ed began. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets. ‘Dad. I need to tell you something. I need to tell you all something.’
Jess stood up hurriedly. ‘Why don’t I go and get us some sandwiches? Leave you to talk.’
Jess could feel Gemma assessing what she knew. ‘I’ll get drinks too. Tea? Coffee?’
Bob Nicholls’s head turned towards her. ‘You’ve only just got here. Stay.’
Her eyes met Ed’s. He gave a tiny shrug, like it was really not going to make any difference.
‘What is it, dear?’ His mother put a hand out to him. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. Well. I’m sort of fine. I mean I’m healthy. But …’ He swallowed. ‘No I’m not fine. There’s something I have to tell you.’
‘What?’ Gemma said.
‘Okay.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Well, here it is.’
‘What?’ said Gemma. ‘Jesus, Ed. What?’
‘I’m being investigated for insider trading. I’ve been suspended from my company. Next week I have to go to a police station where I will in all likelihood be charged and I may go to prison.’
To say the room fell silent was an understatement. It was as if someone had come in and sucked out all the available air. Jess thought she might pass out briefly from lack of oxygen.
‘Is this a joke?’ said his mother.
‘No.’
‘I really could go and get some tea,’ Jess said.
Nobody paid her any attention. Ed’s mother sat down slowly on a plastic chair.
‘Insider trading?’ Gemma was the first to speak. ‘This – that’s serious, Ed.’
‘Yeah. I do get that, Gem.’
‘Actual insider trading, like you see on the news?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘He’s got good lawyers,’ Jess said.
Nobody seemed to hear.
‘Expensive ones.’
His mother’s hand had risen halfway to her mouth. She lowered it slowly. ‘I don’t understand. When did this happen?’
‘A month or so ago. The insider-trading bit, anyway.’
‘A month ago? But why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped you.’
‘You couldn’t, Mum. Nobody can help.’
‘But prison? Like a criminal?’ Anne Nicholls had gone quite pale.
‘I think if you’re sent to prison you pretty much are a criminal, Mum.’
‘Well, they’ll have to sort it out. They’ll see that there’s been some kind of mistake, but they’ll sort it out.’
‘No, Mum. I’m not sure it’s going to work out like that.’
There was another long silence.
‘Are you going to be all right?’
‘I’ll be fine, Mum. As Jess said, I have good lawyers. I have resources. They have already established that there was no financial gain for me.’
‘You didn’t even make money out of it?’
‘It was a mistake.’
‘A mistake?’ said Gemma. ‘I don’t get it. How do you do insider trading by mistake?’
Ed straightened his shoulders and gazed steadily at her. He took a breath, and his gaze flickered towards Jess. And then he looked up at the ceiling. ‘Well, I had sex with a woman. I thought I liked her. And then I realized she wasn’t who I thought she was and I sort of wanted her to go away without it all getting messy. And what she wanted to do was travel. So I made a snap decision and told her a way I thought she could make a little extra money to pay off her debts and go travelling.’