Read Online Trust by Kate Veitch - Free Book Online Page A

was accepting his attentions with slit-eyed graciousness. Nostalgia stopped Gerry in his tracks. How vividly he could recall Seb as a plump toddler, and as an older child, lying on the floor just like this, communing with some earlier feline in the succession they’d owned over the years. He knelt down beside his son, fiddling with the laces on his running shoes, feeling a real pang of loss for that physical closeness he’d enjoyed with the kids when they were little: the small, sweet bodies sitting in his lap while they ate, riding on his shoulders, demanding to be swung around till they were dizzy, or thrown whooping into the air. ‘ Again! ’ they’d shriek. ‘ Daddy! Again! ’
    ‘What’s on at school today, Sebbie?’ he asked.
    ‘Just the usual stuff.’ Seb was making patterns in the fur of Tigger’s flank with his fingertips.
    ‘Morning’s moving along, mate.’ Gerry flexed one foot, testing the tightness of the laces. ‘You planning on getting dressed any time soon?’
    ‘Plenty of time,’ Seb said, but rolled over to his knees, and then stood. ‘Uh … Dad?’
    ‘Yeah?’ He glanced up. From this angle Seb positively loomed. He wondered if he was now shorter than his son.
    ‘Do you … ah … I just …’ Seb started picking at a paint bubble on the wall.
    Gerry rose, noting with relief that he was still the taller, though not by much. ‘What’s up?’ he said, giving Seb’s shoulder a friendly squeeze.
    ‘I was just, um, wondering. How old you were you when … ah, when you had your first girlfriend?’
    ‘Hmm …’ Gerry rubbed thoughtfully at his freshly shaved jaw, taking his time to answer. So, he is starting to think about girls. I’ll bet some of his mates are way ahead of him; he feels self-conscious. He liked that his son had come to him for reassurance. ‘Well, you know, growing up back in Perth, I guess it’d be fair to say I was pretty sport-obsessed. I was a serious cricketer, remember. Plus the tennis. And the swimming. Kind of didn’t wake up to girls till —’ Gerry threw him a questioning glance. ‘When you say girlfriend, you mean my first, uh, real girlfriend? Sex, we’re talking about?’
    Seb grimaced but nodded emphatically.
    ‘To tell the truth, Sebbie, that didn’t start happening till I came over here for uni.’
    ‘Really?’ said Seb eagerly. ‘So, how old were you then? Eighteen?’
    ‘Let’s see … No, nineteen, I guess.’ Gerry chuckled. ‘Yeah. I guess I was a bit of a late developer.’
    ‘Nineteen,’ Seb repeated. His face had cleared. ‘I won’t even be eighteen till March.’
    ‘That’s right. No rush. You’ve got plenty of time to get your heart broken, don’t you worry. And break a few yourself.’ He put a hand up to ruffle his son’s hair. ‘Well, I better get a move on. Off to the pickle factory.’
    ‘Cool. See ya, Dad.’ Unexpectedly, Seb took a half-step forward and gave Gerry a quick hug.
    Gerry closed his eyes for a moment, feeling immeasurably satisfied with every decision about fatherhood he’d ever made, from having kids in the first place to the story he’d just told his son. ‘Have a good day, mate,’ he said tenderly, stepping back and opening the screen door.
    ‘You too. C’mon, Tigs.’ Seb set off jauntily toward the kitchen and the cat leapt up, pretending alarm, and bounded after him.
    Gerry did his usual warm-up stretches against the gate post of the low brick fence out the front. The ‘not till uni’ story had been spontaneous, but, he thought, just right: the truth would’ve made Seb feel even more self-conscious, inadequate. Late developer! Gerry laughed to himself. In fact, he’d just turned fifteen the summer he started fucking. Eileen, a smart, unconventional twenty-year-old, visiting Perth for the holidays; they’d met on the beach. She’d taken one look at the well-built adolescent and scooped him up. He’d barely had his cock out of her all summer. The following year he’d taken up