Thanks for all the reviews, guys. Glad you're liking it so far. Here's chapter two, let me know what you think. :)
Lenny ran a hand through his hair as he paced up and down his living room. Why had Helen asked him to look after Sam? He'd never even met the boy; all he knew of him was that he was six years old and lived in Scotland with Helen and Ian. He'd seen a grainy photo of a blond haired boy with a toothy grin sitting on a swing in someone's garden, but that was about as far as it got.
"I can't." Lenny kicked the leg of his coffee table, stubbing his toe in the process. "I've got a life here. I've got a job, I've got my mates, I can't up and leave to look after some kid I've never even met before. Isn't there anyone else that can look after him?"
The police officer shook his head. "Mr Roberts' mother has early onset Alzheimer's, and his father won't be able to care for his wife as well as his grandson. Miss Lyons specifically requested you look after Sam. Of course, you don't have to, but the only other option would be to place him under the care of the local authority."
A foster home. Lenny had grown up being shunted from one to another and back again. It was a childhood he wouldn't wish on anyone. Sure, there had been some good times, but he remembered that throughout it all, the one thing he had craved more than anything was a family. He couldn't let Sam suffer the same fate.
"What if he was to come down here and live with me?"
The policeman nodded. "I don't see why not. I'll put you in contact with the Social Services team in Scotland, but it's probable."
"Thanks." Lenny caught sight of the clock on the wall and swore once more. "I've got to be at work in ten minutes."
The policeman stood up, taking the comment as a sign to leave. He walked to the front door, pausing before he left. "My condolences once more, Mr Lyons."
Lenny nodded. Once the policeman left, he ran upstairs and grabbed his phone and keys before leaving the house. His work clothes were in his locker, and he jogged the whole way to the hospital, iPod on to drown out his thoughts. A car nearly hit him as he crossed the car park, but he didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
"You're late, Dr Lyons." Nick Jordan was standing by the reception as Lenny entered.
He wiped his sweaty forehead on the sleeve of his hooded jumper and pulled out his headphones, panting. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here now."
Jordan handed him a piece of paper. "Cubicle three, George Howser."
Lenny had experienced long days, but none had dragged as long as this one. All he could think about was Helen and Sam. Why, when his life was starting to get slightly better, had it descended into something awful?
Eventually the day was over, and he could escape with a trip down to the pub with his friends and colleagues. He had never been so relieved to be sat with a pint in his hand, and pretty soon one drink doubled, then multiplied again.
"You're wasted," Zoe told him as he stood up to buy his eighth (or was it ninth?) pint.
Lenny stumbled forward and put a hand on her shoulder to steady himself. "Just one more."
Zoe rolled her eyes, unhappy but powerless to stop him. "I really don't think that's a good idea."
"I don't care what you think. I just don't want to think." He stumbled over to the bar and slouched next to a young brunette, his face almost falling into her cleavage.
"Pervert," she spat, pushing him away. Lenny fell backwards, landing on a couple of strangers before hitting the floor. He was aware of Zoe coming over and lifting him up.
"I'm taking you home whether you like it or not," Zoe instructed him, taking out her mobile and dialling a taxi.
"I don't want a taxi," Lenny slurred, putting one arm around Zoe and resting his head on her shoulders. "I want Helen."