Matt just stared at me for a moment, an expression on his face I couldn't interpret but which made him look oddly vulnerable. I felt a strange tightness in my chest at the sight. Then he shook his head, shaggy curls flying. "It's not … " Matt paused, then started again. "I mean, I'd get it if you got pissed off about me being such a klutz, that's all. You weren't being a bastard." He gave that painful-looking smile again. "I went to see Jay last night, by the way. Stopped in on my way home from work."
I collected my thoughts, still a bit scrambled by his strange diffidence. "I'd ask how he was, but I imagine he hadn't changed a lot since Sunday."
"Yeah, I guess not. Um, Tim?" Matt seemed troubled.
"Yes?"
"Look, about the necklace I was wearing the other day, when Adam was here … " Matt bit his lip. "Well, I was talking to Jay, and he said you-I mean, it must have looked a bit odd. Sorry. I mean, what I said … You see, the first time I wore it, I was with Steve and Adam and some other lads down the pub, and Steve asked me where it was from … " He thrust his hands into his pockets and walked a few paces away from me, before turning back. "See, it's not his fault, but Steve gets a bit, well, jealous sometimes. So I didn't want to say Jay gave it to me, in case Steve flew off the handle or something. So I said I'd bought it. And then, when you asked about it, and Adam was there, I just sort of panicked, because if I told you Jay gave it to me and Adam went and said something … Anyway, I'm sorry."
"Oh," I said. There was something about this little story that left a nasty taste in my mouth. And it wasn't just finding out Jay, the bastard, had told Matt just how much of an idiot I'd been over one cheap little coral necklace. So Steve was the jealous sort, was he? I was liking Steve less and less the more I heard about him. "Don't worry about it," I said with a forced smile. "Obviously, you wouldn't want your … want Steve to go jumping to conclusions. It's only a necklace, for heaven's sake!"
Matt broke into a relieved grin. "Yeah-that's just what Jay said. I mean, he only mentioned it because he thought it was funny-you thinking he was after me."
"Yes, well, Jay's sense of humour isn't the most mature in the world," I muttered, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt.
The grin turned wicked. "He told me you and him had a pillow fight."
"One pillow! And it was Jay who threw it!"
"How come you didn't throw it back, then?"
"I couldn't! Mum was in the room!"
"Ah, right. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your mum." Matt nodded sagely. "I mean, she might stop your pocket money or something."
"Very funny," I said sarcastically, inwardly pleased he felt comfortable enough to tease me like that.
"Must be nice, having a brother," Matt went on, sounding a bit wistful.
He'd said that before, I remembered. "Are you an only child?"
"Nah-two sisters. Well, stepsisters-my mum was my dad's second wife. They got together when I was little, so he's my stepdad, really. They're way older than me-my sisters, I mean-both married with kids. Haven't seen them for a while, though."
"Live too far away, do they?" I asked sympathetically.
"Bristol-but things are a bit difficult. I mean, it's hard for them to get over here, with the kids and all, and if I go over there, well, we have to be careful my dad doesn't find out." Matt stared at a grease stain on the floor. "It's his generation-he's got some funny ideas about gay blokes. Doesn't want me near the grandkids."
"That's outrageous!"
Matt shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, well. Maybe it'd be different if I was a blood relative … But he's eighty-three-he's not going to change."
I boggled. "How old's your mum?"
"She died when I was twelve, but she was a lot younger than him, yeah."
I didn't quite know what to say-was it still appropriate to offer condolences for something that happened over a decade ago? But I did feel sorry about it, so I said so.
"'S okay," Matt mumbled.
I was willing to bet it hadn't been. He'd lost his mum and been left with a bigoted old man five times his age just as he was about to reach his teens and, presumably, realise how different he was from most of his mates. It was a good thing he'd at least had Adam. "Do you ever see your real dad?"
"Nope, and I don't want to." Matt said it in an I don't want to talk about it, end of kind of way, and pointedly grabbed a bike that'd been leaning against the wall, wheeling it into the central work area.
I took the hint and headed back to my till.