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Authors: Josephine Myles

BOOK: Junk
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Jasper stared, entranced. Of course. Now it had been pointed out to him, he noticed the features of the room behind the mess. There was the same faded wallpaper and threadbare curtains. The fact the pictures had all been taken from slightly different angles had prevented him from making the connection at first, but now all was revealed, like one of those magic pictures of dots that sprang into 3D when you squinted just right.

Hope clutched at his heart. Could it really be possible to get his home back to something respectable? How did you even begin?

“How long did it take?” he whispered.

“About six months all in, although most of the progress was over the last few weeks. Once she got going, she was ruthless. But that’s not all.” Lewis smiled a mysterious smile and took another photograph out of his folder. He handed it over to Jasper.

This was laminated like the others, but for a moment, Jasper couldn’t see any other connection between the pictures. The living room in this one looked like it had come straight out of one of those fancy interiors magazines, all tastefully coordinated sofa cushions and duck-egg blue walls. Then it hit him.

“No way. Are you really— Are you saying this is…” He couldn’t seem to push the words out of him and looked up in mute appeal.

Lewis grinned, his cheeks both dimpling as he flashed his teeth. “It’s the same room. She celebrated finishing the job by redecorating. Had both of us round for a meal. It was the first time she’d entertained visitors in over a decade.”

The hopeful feeling that had crept up inside Jasper now threatened to choke him. He wanted this. Oh, how he wanted it. And Lewis seemed to be telling him it was within his grasp. All Jasper had to do was work with him. And that would be no hardship, would it? He stared at Lewis’s hands just in case he gave himself away. His hands were attractive, slender like those of a musician or artist, but with a wiry strength evident in the corded veins and tendons. He already knew what they felt like on his own hands but had a sudden urge to feel them elsewhere, clutching at his naked flesh.

“So, we need to talk rates and what you can afford,” Carroll said, cutting through his pleasant thoughts. “Do you have a particular budget in mind? We generally prefer to work out a weekly sum you can afford and then fit our hours to that, rather than a fixed sum for the whole job.”

“Oh, why’s that? Everyone else seems happy to give quotes. You know. Plumbers and carpenters.”

The Millers shared a look, and Lewis spoke next, his gentle tones calming Jasper’s racing brain. “This is a very different sort of service. We’re dealing with the vagaries of people’s psychological makeup, and all clients vary in how long they need the support. It’s not that we’re trying to fleece you out of more money, but we discovered early on that if we set a fixed term, many clients wouldn’t then begin to make any progress until the time was nearly up. The one in these pictures? Like I said, she only started making significant progress once she realised our sessions were nearly over.”

“Are you implying there’s a connection? That they were self-sabotaging?”

Lewis seemed to sit up straighter. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve done some reading on the subject. I do a lot of reading. Books are kind of…” Could he say it? He glanced up and could only detect kindness in Lewis’s gaze. “Books are my life,” he confessed.

Lewis nodded slowly, and Jasper gulped back the swell of gratitude that the ready acceptance called up. Stupid, getting emotional over something like that. Lewis would end up thinking he was in need of serious psychological help if he went all drama queen whenever anyone seemed to understand him.

Carroll came to his rescue this time. “You’ve got a lot of books in your house, then? You already mentioned them before.”

“Books, papers, magazines, leaflets…” If it had potentially useful information on it, he’d pick it up and take it home. “You must think I’m cracked.”

Carroll chuckled, and the sound was warm just like her brother’s voice. “Not at all. You should see the stuff some people hoard. Seriously, paper’s good. We like paper. It doesn’t smell and it can be recycled. You don’t have any pets, do you?”

“No… I don’t know. There might be a mouse somewhere, but that doesn’t really count as a pet, does it?”

“Shouldn’t think so,” Lewis said. “Not unless you’re intentionally feeding it.” Jasper shook his head vehemently. “Good. So, next steps. If you need more time to think through how much you can afford, that’s fine, but we’re still going to need to come and see what we’re dealing with at the house. Can we arrange a time tomorrow for one or the other of us to come and have a look?”

Jasper would have promised him anything right then, but tomorrow was no good. He couldn’t let down the library when they were already short staffed. “Sorry. I have to work. Unless… I finish at four on a Thursday. I’m usually back here by five.” He held his breath waiting for the dismissal. No one wanted to work at that hour, did they? It was why Jasper had ended up volunteering for three late shifts each week.

Lewis cocked his head to one side. “Five? Sounds doable for me. What about you, Carroll?”

“Nope. I’ve got my woodcarving class tomorrow evening, but I could do it on Friday morning.”

Jasper’s gaze shot up to Carroll. Had he imagined the warning tone to her voice? But she was staring back at him with wide, kind eyes. Shame the row of three piercings in the right eyebrow kept distracting him.

“Looks like you’ve just got me, then.” Lewis’s voice wrapped around him, just like his hand had earlier. “Don’t worry, though. I’m the sensible, responsible twin.”

“Twins?” Jasper must have sounded incredulous, because now they were both staring at him with bemused little smiles. “I’m sorry. I just assumed you were younger,” he said to Carroll.

“Don’t let the piercings fool you. I’m thirty, same as him,” she said and winked. “Although Lewis is definitely the mature one in terms of being a boring old fart.”

“You look older,” he said to Lewis, then realised how that could be taken. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean in a bad way. Oh pigging hell.” Heat crept up Jasper’s cheeks. He’d actually assumed Lewis to be older because of his skin, but now he stole a more careful glance, he realised the craggy texture was some kind of scarring.

Lewis smiled, but there was now something guarded about his expression. Crap-crappity-crap. He was probably sensitive about it, wasn’t he? Just like Jasper with his stupid bloody twitching eye, which was currently going crazy.

“Christ on a bike, will you look at the time!” Carroll exclaimed, staring at her oversized pink plastic watch. “We’ve gotta go in a few minutes or I’ll be late for archery.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you late. I just… It takes me so long, sometimes, to get out of the house.”

“It’s fine,” Lewis reassured him, and the return of his hand on Jasper’s was the calming influence he needed. “We’ve had enough time to get to know each other, and that’s what’s important. Now, I usually end the first session by handing out a few worksheets to get you thinking about your attitude towards your possessions. Do you think you’ll have time to look at them before tomorrow? I don’t need them all filled in, but just reading through the questions should help prepare you for the home visit.”

“I can certainly look,” Jasper promised. Lewis handed him a fairly thick stack of sheets, but, after flicking through, he could see plenty of blank space to fill in answers. “Yes, more reading matter. Just what I need. You realise you’ve just added to the sea of paper, don’t you?”

“Maybe just keep this in your bag, then. Wouldn’t want it to get lost among all the rest.” But the way Lewis grinned took any sting out of the words. Okay. It looked like the two of them were fine. No offence taken at Jasper’s tactless remarks.

Jasper shook both their hands, surprised by the double hand clasp Lewis used. The man was tactile, that was for sure. Jasper’s skin buzzed from the brief contact, and once again he had the urge to grab hold of Lewis and hug him tight. But instead he watched them both head out the door and past the window, Lewis giving him a cute finger wave, and then walked to the counter and wrestled out his wallet.

“I’m not taking your money,
canim
,” Yusef said.

“Why not?”

“All this help you’re getting. It’s expensive, no? So this one’s on me, all right?”

“Thanks,” Jasper said, nonplussed. In all the years he’d known Yusef, this was the first time he’d refused payment.

“Just don’t go expecting it all the time. I have a business to run. Now be off with you before I change my mind.”

Jasper grinned and headed out the door. Just a quick stop at the charity shop to check out the books, then he could walk back home and fill out those sheets for Lewis.

Chapter Four

Carroll pulled the van up outside their parents’ home. “So, when are you getting the Duchess back on the road, then?”

Lewis gave his beloved dark green Mini Cooper a wistful gaze. “The mechanic said she needed the engine replacing.”

Carroll whistled through her teeth. “Shit. That’s gotta cost a bomb.”

“And then some. He said it would probably be cheaper to buy another old banger.”

“But you’re not going to.”

She knew him so well. “I’d never find another one like her.” She was a beauty, built in the early eighties with cream leather upholstery. Not an old banger at all, no matter what the sneering hulk of a mechanic had thought. “I couldn’t go from that to a modern car. No way.”

“Yeah, but you might be able to get one with more leg room that way.”

“The Duchess has plenty of leg room. I prefer her being snug and cosy.”

Carroll huffed. “I swear, you’re getting as bad as a hoarder. You know that’s what Albert said to me last week? That the piles of stuff made him feel cosy. I said he should try moving into that sheltered accommodation they offered him. That’d be plenty cosy enough, what with only having three small rooms.”

“Carroll! I was working on that. You could have set me right back.”

“Take a chill pill, bro. He laughed. He likes me. Thinks I’m full of spunk, apparently.” She imitated old Albert’s nasal Aussie intonation perfectly, even pulling one of his apparently innocent smiles. Quite a feat, considering Carroll hadn’t been even remotely innocent for a very long time. “I’ve no idea how he could tell I’d breakfasted on Matt.”

“Shut up!” Lewis grinned despite himself. “Thought I was meant to be the one making gross jokes.”

“Yeah, well, since you never do, someone has to keep up the side. Besides, I’m older.”

“By a whole twenty minutes.”

Carroll shrugged. “Makes all the difference, apparently.”

She had a point. When they’d been growing up, Carroll had always been the first to find things out. While Lewis had been a good boy, working hard at school and keeping his nose clean, she’d been the one gossiping and hanging out with the wrong crowd. The wrong crowd turning out to be the right crowd if it was illicit information you were after. Fortunately for him, Carroll had passed on all the juiciest titbits, sneaking into his bedroom after lights out and scandalising him with her talk of deep throating, butt plugs and rimming. At first he’d been shocked to discover it was the talk of men doing things to each other that gave him a deliciously squirmy feeling inside, but having liberal academics as parents meant neither of them had any ingrained homophobia.

Indeed, it had been a shock to Lewis to discover that others did. He wished he’d realised just how deep it ran in some of his peers before announcing he was gay to his whole class. Still, what did twelve-year-olds know about the way the world worked? In hindsight, he’d been glad to be out and proud at school, even if it had exposed him to some merciless teasing and occasional roughing up. Nothing too bad, though. Cotham Grammar just hadn’t been that kind of school. Besides, it was character building or something. That’s what his mum had always told him whenever he complained, anyway.

“Thinking about Jasper, are we?” Carroll said, a smile lurking behind her deadpan expression.

“No. Should I be?” Of course, now Carroll mentioned him, Lewis’s head filled with memories of just how handsome his teenage crush had turned out.

“Well, he is our newest client so yeah, I reckon you should be thinking about him. Lots. Probably obsessing about him, knowing you.”

“I don’t obsess about our clients.”

“Really? Could have fooled me. You definitely obsess about your boyfriends, anyway.”

“Jasper isn’t ever going to be my boyfriend,” Lewis insisted.

Carroll arched her eyebrows, making her piercings glint. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

“He barely made eye contact.”

“Maybe, but he kept looking at your hands—especially when you grabbed his. Hardly spared mine a glance, and with all the effort I made.” Carroll waggled her habitually bitten nails and pouted, although she couldn’t hide the dimples that gave her away. “A girl could feel hurt.”

Lewis snorted. “The princess thing really doesn’t suit you, sis.”

Carroll’s expression reverted back to its usual cheeky smirk. “Okay, but you have to admit, he wanted you to come and do the home visit. That’s got to mean something.”

“What it means,” Lewis said, opening the door to get away from the direction the conversation was taking, “is that I’ll have to be on my guard against our client forming any kind of inappropriate attachment to me. If he does, I’ll have to hand him over to you.”

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