IN THE HOURS BETWEEN • TC

20. Commemoration

"What's going on?" Una asks, walking into the kitchen as Fen is slicing up little chunks of watermelon.

"We're having a little thing," she explains. "For Milo. A little celebration of his life."

"We barely even knew him," Una frowns, and her mother sighs.

"Yes, but it's important to Timmy." 

And therefore it's important to us.

She doesn't say as much, but Una can work it out. 

Una reaches forwards and plucks a bit of watermelon from the chopping board. "Can you get the feta out the fridge, darling?" Fen asks, and Una nods.

As she goes to the fridge, she sees Timmy splayed on the grass in the garden, stretched out like a starfish. The arm holes of his top are cut so generously that she can see a portion of his pale side, his ribs prominent through his skin.

Una gets out the feta and a carton of juice, and goes to sit outside. There's only a bit of juice left, so she doesn't bother with a glass. Just swigs directly from the carton.

Timmy sits up on his elbows as she comes towards him. Squints in the sun, one hand sheltering his face.

A hand stretches out between them.

"Thank you," he says quietly, taking a gentle sip before tilting his head back. The carton is vertical as he drains the last of the juice.

"Are you excited for the party?" Una says. She can't quite remember why she came out here in the first place.

Timothée's top lip folds downwards as he frowns. "Yes, I presume so."

"You suppose so," Una corrects softly, holding out her hand for the carton.

"I suppose so," Timothée nods. "Una, do you...you will sit with me. For a bit?"

She hesitates, already halfway back to the house in her head. "Um. Well I was going to shower but-"

"Don't worry. Go," he shakes his head, waving her off gently.

"No, no, I mean, I can stay here if you like," she replies, getting down creakily onto the ground, her knees clicking as she crosses her legs.

"I don't have anything to say to you now," he frowns. "You can go."

"You wanted me to sit with you..." she trails off. "Weren't you going to say something?"

"No, I just...wanted some company," he mumbles. His head tilts towards his chest and Una looks at the miniscule rolls of his neck. His feet knock together in a pair of Frank's Crocs - one of the shoes has partially fallen off his foot.

"Oh," she says. "Well, here I am."

Una wants to go back several seconds and erase the words from the air, but they are suspended between the two of them. Timmy says nothing. Then:

"Here you are."

She looks over at him and a laugh bursts out from nowhere. Una shakes her head, looking away. When she glances back, Timmy looks bemused.

"What?" he asks. She doesn't reply, just smiling and looking back at the fence. Marlon is teetering rather precariously on the wood, looking slightly too heavy to be comfortable.

"It's just funny. When you say things."

"I am getting better at pro-nuncing things," Timmy frowns.

"No, no, I know. I just mean, the things you say. They're funny."

"Oh," Timmy sighs. A tiny smile disappears as soon as it arrives. "Yes. Well." He opens his mouth and closes it again.