Why is everyone acting like–?” He stopped and took another drink of his Coke.
“You’re right, son,” his father said. “You’re absolutely right.” He turned his wine glass slowly around once on the table.
“Still,” he said. “You’re going to need to be brave for her, Con. You’re going to need to be real, real brave for her.”
“You talk like American television.” His father laughed, quietly. “Your sister’s doing well. Almost walking.”
“Half-sister,” Conor said. “I can’t wait for you to meet her,” his father said.
We’ll have to arrange for a visit soon. Maybe even this Christmas. Would you like that?”
Conor met his father’s eyes. “What about Mum?” “I’ve talked it over with your grandma.
She seemed to think it wasn’t a bad idea, as long as we got you back in time for the new school term.”
Conor ran a hand along the edge of the table. “So it’d just be a visit then?”
“What do you mean?” his father said, sounding surprised. “A visit as opposed to…”
He trailed off, and Conor knew he’d worked out what he meant. “Conor–” But Conor suddenly didn’t want him to finish.
“There’s a tree that’s been visiting me,” he said, talking quickly, starting to peel the label off the Coke bottle.
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