Matt paused for breath after that little speech, and I nodded. "He'd have been a child in the nineteen-thirties, wouldn't he? I suppose if you grew up during the big depression, you wouldn't want to give up a decent job until you had to."
"Yeah-he was always mad keen on saving money too. Used to drive Mum mad, sometimes. And me." Matt tidied up the remains of our lunch and the various bits of packaging it had come in. "Right. Better get back to work."
"I suppose so," I said, sad our little break seemed to be over.
Matt nodded and headed out back again.
***
Trade was fairly quiet that afternoon, so as often as I could, I popped out to the back room, where Matt at least was keeping busy with an endless stream of repairs and services.
"I really ought to learn how to do this stuff," I commented as he tightened up the brake cables on an old-fashioned sit-up-and-beg-type Raleigh.
Matt looked up and grinned. "Are you trying to put me out of a job?"
"God, no!" It was a horrible thought. I'd found it bad enough on Saturday without him. "Is this what you've always wanted to do, fixing bikes?"
"Pretty much, yeah. It was one thing me and Dad used to do together, you know? Messing around with bikes and tools and stuff. He's got a garage full of stuff he's built from bits and bobs-there's an old radio with actual valves in, can you believe that? Still works and all."
I frowned. "Valves?"
"That's what they used to have before transistors were invented."
"Which century was your stepdad born in?"
"I know what you mean. It's weird, really, how much the world's changed in just his lifetime. When he was young, half the local farms still used horses to work the fields." He made a face. "And being gay got you sent to the nick." He bent his head to his work. "Did you always want to be an accountant?"
"God, no. I don't think there's anyone who's ever grown up wanting to be an accountant." I shrugged. "It just seemed like a good career-decent money, plenty of jobs. Well, back then there were, anyway. Plus, I had a sad lack of any useful skills that didn't involve numbers," I added.
"You shouldn't do yourself down," Matt said earnestly. "I mean, I think you'd be great at running a business, and that's not all numbers. You've got ideas about promotions, that sort of stuff."
"Unfortunately, I also know the statistics for how many new businesses fail in their first year. Jay's done well with this place," I conceded.
Then the bell jangled, and I had to get back out front before I undermined all Jay's good work.
***
As I unlocked Jay's front door that evening to usher Matt in, it occurred to me a little too late that, given the choice, I'd probably have preferred to get the dragons out of sight before he saw them. Still, maybe he wouldn't notice them at first, and I could shift them while he had a shower or something.
Of course, no sooner had I formed the plan than Matt blew it out of the water. "Hey, I didn't know Jay collected these-they weren't here last time I came round." He picked up the one I'd put next to the computer-it was the one I'd bought Gran just before she died, called "Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger". It was a model of a smug-looking dragon crouched on a box, with a tiger's tail protruding from its mouth as if it hadn't quite finished swallowing the beast. "That's pretty cool," Matt said, smiling.
"Oh-it's mine, actually, not Jay's," I said, daftly pleased, as if I'd made it myself. "Well, they used to be our gran's, but she left them all to me."
"You've got more?"
"Dozens. Well, not literally, but there's quite a lot."
"My mum used to like this kind of stuff. Reminds me of her reading me The Hobbit when I was little-she used to let me hold one of the dragons, as long as I sat still and listened to the story." Matt stared at the dragon, a tiny smile on his lips. I felt as if I was intruding into a treasured memory and didn't know what to say.
Wolverine, bless his self-centred, greedy little heart, said it for me, choosing that moment to announce loudly from the doorway that it was about bloody time he got fed. Matt turned and, for a heart-stopping moment, almost fumbled the dragon and dropped it, but he managed to set it down safely on the table. "This is Jay's cat, right?"
"Matt, Wolverine. Wolverine, Matt. Better watch out for his claws," I added. I was still looking at Wolverine, but I was confident they'd both realise from the context I was talking to Matt. "He nearly eviscerated Adam last time he was here." My shoulders tensed up. Why the hell did I have to go and mention Adam?
"Oh. Right." Matt studied his feet. Perhaps he was worried Wolverine was about to pounce on them. "Listen, you know, if I'm in the way here, if you want to have Adam round, and all-"