Jeff jogged up to David and handed him a small plastic bag. “Here.”
“You remembered.” David took the bag and tried not to make it obvious he already had a bag of his own.
But Jeff looked down and saw what David was trying to hide. “You brought your own bread. I told you yesterday I’d bring it.” He sounded hurt and David felt guilty for not trusting him.
“I’m sorry, but I can save mine until tomorrow.” David frowned as he looked around. “Where’s Bozo.”
Jeff sat down beside David. “I left him at home in case he nicked the bread. He’s already in disgrace for stealing the next door neighbor’s delivery from the milkman.”
David surprised himself by laughing, his first deep belly laugh for a long time. “Poor Bozo.”
“Poor Bozo? Poor Jeff you mean. My neighbor isn’t talking to me now.” Jeff sighed and threw bread into the pond. A couple of ducks swam towards them, squabbling briefly over the bread. Jeff threw another piece to pacify them. “Do you feed the ducks every day?”
“Most days. Unless I have a doctor’s appointment.” David reached into Jeff’s bag and threw bread at the moorhens hiding behind the reeds.
“You don’t work?”
“Not at the moment.” David didn’t offer more information and Jeff didn’t press him, although David could feel his curiosity. He liked that about Jeff. So many people pressed him to talk, to let out his feelings. “What about you?”
“I work nights from home. I take Bozo for a run every afternoon after I sleep.”
David turned to look at him. “Don’t you get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but Bozo is good company, and I get enough time off to see my mates.” Jeff grinned at him, the smile sliding away when David didn’t return it.
“I don’t have any friends now,” David admitted. “You’re the only person I talk to aside from the doctors. I feed the ducks to make myself leave the flat.”
“I’m your friend.” Jeff sounded firm on the issue so David didn’t argue. Besides it was nice to think he had a friend.
David threw a piece of bread into the water. One of the ducks snapped it up immediately and swam closer to the edge, looking hopeful for more.
Jeff chucked bread, nearly braining a moorhen. David burst out laughing, laughing even louder when Jeff buried his head in the crook of David’s neck. “I’m as bad as my dog.”
“Where do you think he gets it from?” David said.
“I hate you.” Although Jeff stayed exactly where he was and David left him there, taking pleasure in being touched. After a few minutes, Jeff said, “I don’t really hate you.”
“That’s good,” David murmured. “I don’t hate you too.”