Three

'You home, Curly?' I call, pushing open the front door of my one-time home and walking on in. I don't really want to waste my time being here, not when there's nothing he'll be able to do to help me out. But my brother's so damn unpredictable, forever phoning us, or showing up at our place on a whim to see the kids, that I can't risk not coming here first. Not when I've told Leigh that bullshit about me having to be here, anyway.

'Yeah, in here.' He appears in the hallway, a beer in each hand. 'You alright?'

'Fine. Was just passing, figured I'd stop and say hello.' I glance past him towards the kitchen. 'Claire home?' I ask, really hoping she's not.

'Nah, you just missed her. She left for the hospital about ten minutes ago, she's on the night shift again this month, told you that on Monday. You wanna beer?' he asks, already popping the cap on the second bottle and shoving it into my hand before I get a chance to answer.

'Cheers.'

I pace across the room and stare out the window, taking a swig of beer, cross back to the mantle and make like I'm interested in all the photos he's got out on display. Curly and his latest girl, Claire. Angela looking way more similar to Ma than she likes to admit but can't deny. Not when it's there for all to see in the fading black and white shot of our mother that Curly must have unearthed somewhere when we were clearing out her things—Ma from years ago, and god knows when it was taken but she's actually smiling too. Then next to that there's somewhere close to half a dozen snaps of my kids, alongside one final one of me and Leigh, on our wedding day. I pick it up, study it a little more closely and try to remember what it was like to be that young, that happy.

'So what're you really doing here?' Curly asks, sinking down onto the threadbare couch and reaching for his cigarettes.

'What? So I need a reason to come over here now?' I set the picture frame face down on the mantle.

'Course not. But I only saw you two nights ago. And you ain't hardly been back here, not since Ma...'

His words trail off, my soft-hearted brother still unable to bring himself to actually say out loud thats she's gone. He might have changed things up in here, made it look different on the surface with the odd new bit of furniture, pictures on the wall. But I still don't understand why he chose to take on the lease after she died. How he can stand to be here with all the memories that are always lurking, just beneath the surface. Not when the good ones were so few and far between anyway. No. Ange had the right idea, moving out soon as she turned eighteen.

'Fine.' I move towards the door. 'If I'm not welcome, then—'

'Don't be an idiot.' He chucks the carton of smokes at me. 'Come off it, Tim. There's clearly something on your mind, you wouldn't be here if there wasn't. So why don't you quit pacing around like a cat on hot bricks and sit the fuck down, fill me in on what's troubling you?'

I fiddle with the carton, taking my time to select a cigarette, then even longer to light the damn thing.

'And?'

I sit beside him, taking a drag on my cigarette and staring at the floor, still not speaking.

'Tim?' He nudges me in the ribs. 'You had a fight with Leigh?'

'No.' I exhale slowly, the smoke twisting and winding up towards the ceiling. 'It ain't that.'

'So what the hell is going on then?'

'You know of any work going that'll pay more than I'm making up the factory?'

'Not really. I mean, I can ask at work, only...' his voice trails off again as he picks at the label of his beer bottle, peeling the damp paper away from the brown glass.

'It's alright, Curly. I'm well aware that your boss ain't likely to hire someone with my record to work as a hospital orderly. Some people ain't ever gonna let me forget I did time in the state pen, no matter what I do.' A low laugh escapes my lips, as I attempt to make light of it and grin at him. 'Besides, don't exactly think I've exactly got the right personality or the patience for helping sick people, do you?'

'Why you looking, anyway?'

I shrug at him. 'Maybe I'm sick of humping heavy lumps of steel about and fancy a change.'

'Yeah, right,' he scoffs. 'How the hell am I supposed to help if you won't even tell me the truth?'

'Got fucking canned this afternoon,' I mutter, the words slipping out before I can stop them. I frown at the toe of my worn work boots, go to take another sip of my beer, only the bottle's empty already. 'And before you assume I fucked up, it's not just me. There's been loads of lay offs.'

'Shit, buddy. That sucks.'

'Get's worse, too.' My empty beer bottle clinks against the glass top of the coffee table. 'Me and Leigh. We're having another kid.'

'Jesus, Tim. You ever heard of birth control?' Curly grins at me. 'Seriously though, that's great news. You ain't really unhappy about that are you?'

'Nah, course not. Only the timing could've been better. Just means I need to find something else real quick, before Leigh gets a chance to worry about any of this shit. So you need to keep your big mouth shut, alright?'

'You mean to say you didn't tell her? Can't believe you're trying to keep something like that a secret from her. Thought you didn't operate like that, these days.'

'I ain't planning on leaving her in the dark forever. But if I can find something else before the end of the week then I can save her the upset. She's got enough going on without having to worry about whether we can make next month's rent or if there'll be enough spare cash to buy new winter shoes for the kids.'

'If you're short then I can—'

'Don't need your damn charity, Curly.'

'It ain't charity, you're family. You know damn well you'd do the same for me if it was the other way round, so don't go getting all high and mighty about it.' Curly lifts the bottle to his lips, takes another slug of beer. 'So what are you planning on doing?'

'Find something else, I guess. Can't be that damn hard, can it?'

'Still think you're making a mistake, Tim. Not telling her.'

'And when I want marriage advice from you, I'll ask for it.' I make a show of checking my watch, and ease myself up off the lumpy couch. 'Anyway, if you ain't got anything useful to day, then I better get moving.'

'Tim, wait!' Curly calls, trailing behind me down the hall and stopping me on the front step. ' You could try Curtis. Heard from his brother that he just got awarded some new contract. Pony reckons it's some real big deal.'

Darry Curtis pulls open the door before I even get a chance to knock.

'Tim. Been a while.' He leans a shoulder against the door frame, folds his arms like he's fighting the urge to chase me off his land while I stand, awkward and uncomfortable, on his pristine porch.

The way he's looking at me, I already know this is a mistake. That I'll get the same damn answer from him as I already got from Danny Simmonds down his auto-repair place, and Rick from the lumber yard. Same as I got from every other of the dozen or so places I've been to this past two days.

But Leigh and the kids, they need me, and I'm fast running out of ideas for fixing this quick. Can't bear a third day of lying to her, of me getting up and leaving the house at seven and pretending like I'm still off to work, like I'm not some loser who can't provide for his family. So I swallow down my pride and ask Darrel for his help. 'Heard you might have some work going. You know I worked construction before. So...' I shrug at him, hoping I don't sound too damn desperate.

He stares at me for a few seconds, hard to read behind those icy blue eyes, before he finally answers. ' Sorry, Tim. You know I'd help you if I could, but I just don't have anything. Maybe in another month, once we get started on the new site. But right now I've barely got enough work on for the guys already on payroll.'

Guess I've just got one more option left to try, then.

Its barely past six, but the room crammed. The usual Friday night crowd looking to blow their pay packets. I push my way between them to reach the bar. But despite the sea of bodies and the air being heavy with smoke I spot him instantly. He's sat in his favourite booth out back, a joint in one hand, and his other arm slung across the shoulder of some dark-eyed, hollow-cheeked girl who barely looks legal.

If asking Darry Curtis for help was a bad idea, then coming all the way out here to Brumly has to be the king of terrible decisions. I should go home, man up and tell Leigh the damn truth. Have her tell me that things ain't anywhere near as bad as we both know it is and that we'll find a way to fix it, together.

Only before I can turn tail and disappear back out the door he looks up and locks eyes with me for a second, a grin creeping across his face.

Pulling the last ten from my pocket, I push it towards the barman, point at the bottle of Jack.

Lewis raises an eyebrow as I approach his table and set down the glasses in front of him.

'Well, well. So tell me, to what do I owe this pleasure?'

'Figured it was about time.' I settle myself down in the seat opposite him, pour two inches into each glass and wait, silently praying that the investment is worth it and I haven't just wasted the last of my spare cash for nothing.

He turns the glass in his hand, knocks back the contents in one, then refills it to the brim. 'Time for what?'

'Time you and me got back into business. If your offer still stands?'

A/N: Thank you for reading :)