Page 97 of House of Bass

Arden’s whole face changes at the endearing nickname that spills out the boy’s lips and I can’t help the giggle that leaves me. At the sound of that, the boy looks up and realises we are in the room, straightening up immediately after.

“My bad, I didn't realise there was anyone else here,” the boy says, entering further into the room. “I’m Ben.” He reaches a hand out for a handshake but Richard looks at it with an ethereal disgust, I can’t help but sigh at his childishness. Here we go.

“Hi, Ben,” Olivia says with a blush painting her cheeks, at the same time Arden says, “Are staff allowed to go around calling patients pretty girls? Isn’t that against policy?” Please keep in mind he does air quotes on the words pretty girl. Ben winks at Liv first, who just giggles (I really might be the only person in the world she hates), which makes Arden glare even harder and then Ben answers, “It would be…if I was a staff.”

Olivia speaks up first, “Ben is a prisoner like I am.”

“You’re a patient?” Richard asks, his stern face relaxing just a little.

“Yup. Three years.”

“Why?”

“Do you ask anyone else here that question?” the boy challenges with a smirk, avoiding the question with ease.

“If I had seen others trying to flirt with my sister then perhaps, yes.”

“Was I? Flirting, that is.”

Arden’s eyes narrow, there are so few people who spoke back to him in this manner. I know he has gained a modicum of respect for Ben but he’ll never admit it.

“Answering a question with a question. Reminds me of someone I know.” He gives me a pointed look, I grin, unable to hide how much I was enjoying the back and forth.

“Your parents? What do they think of you?”

A shift occurs in Ben when Richard asks the question, it's subtle but it's there. His polite smile drops for a millisecond, his eyes flicker from side to side and he leans closer to the wall like he's expecting it to hold him upright. His spare hand clenches into a fist before releasing it as well as the held breath.

“Richard…” I speak for the first time, a slow but gentle warning that he’s treading into waters that don't concern him. I know what it is like when asked about parents you have a complicated relationship with, Harley is the same way.

“They’re dead,” he plainly responds, he pairs the revelation with a smile no one believes. The air stales but a cleared throat from Olivia shifts the focus.

“I vote netball. For the group activity.” A clear attempt to usher him out of the room to stop all the tension that hung in the air.

Ben nods, “It was nice to meet you, both of you.” He gives me a polite smile and exits the room

I stand up and give Arden a whack on the back of the head, he whines “The fuck was that for?”

“You know damn well you deserved that.”

“I agree.” Liv’s fury is a force, I’m not sure she even realises she is pulsing with it. She stands up abruptly, pacing up and down “That was so embarrassing, oh my god. I’m going to have to apologise like hell once you leave.”

“Thornes don't apologise.” Good lord, he sounded like my grandmother.

“Perhaps they should learn to,” she says as she turns to him, not backing down from this. Her brown eyes are not leaving his dark blue-greens. They are speaking to each other without a single word being uttered. It is funny how at this moment they both look like the respective parents they hate. Is this how it is always going to be? Us hating our parents and us being exactly like them?

He concedes, “Fine. I’ll fix things with the boy.”

A smile breaks from Olivia, “Thank you.”

They hug one another and hold it there for a minute. They are each other's lifeline and I am glad he has someone who’ll always be there for him. He deserves it, they both do.

It is nightfall when we finally leave the hospital. There is a light patch of rain on the drive home. I look out the window and ask, “Why did you take me there?”

“I didn’t see it at first but I should have recognised the signs for a person who was losing themselves. I let it happen with Livia, I won’t let it happen again. Not to you.”

I can tell he means every word. My sweet Richard, I don’t have the heart to tell him that I am already lost.

“The drinking, the panic attacks and the absences. I should have figured it out. It was happening back then too, wasn’t it?”