‘So anyway,’ my brother sighed, dropping his trunk onto my sandbank. ‘She’s kicked me out.’
‘Suzanne?’ I asked, shocked. ‘I thought you guys were going well!’
‘We were, but you know how things are,’ he said, dropping his toes into the water. ‘Just incompatible, I suppose.’
‘It’s a shame I didn’t get to meet her.’
‘You might see her this weekend actually.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, pointing up. ‘There’s a marathon coming over your bridge. She was training for it all month.’
‘Ugh,’ I groaned, rubbing at my foot. ‘I hate marathons. Too many people packed in close together.’
‘Is your foot still bothering you?’ my brother asked, frowning. ‘I thought you were going to get it looked at?’
‘I did, I did,’ I grimaced. ‘The infection is gone at least.’
‘Thank god for our local Cheltenham podiatrist,’ he chuckled. ‘That thing was gross.’
‘Anyway,’ I narrowed my eyes at him, still rubbing my foot, ‘now it’s just my foot playing up.’
‘Flat feet?’ he asked. ‘Achilles tendonitis? Sever’s disease?’
‘Seriously, how long were you following that woman?’
‘You don’t want my help?’ he stood up, frowning. I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to sit down.
‘Your diagnosis, doctor?’ I asked dryly.
He looked me up and down, then leaned forward to take a cursory glance at my foot. ‘Semi-custom orthotics,’ he declared.
‘Semi-custom?’ I frowned. ‘What, I’m not good enough for fully custom?’
‘You don’t need fully custom,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be so dramatic.’
‘You really think that’ll help though?’ I asked, tentatively trying to put my foot back on the ground. The cooling mud helped a little bit, but I still had to lift the pressure off it slightly.
‘Sure it will,’ he shrugged. ‘I mean, I think so. Do I look like a podiatrist to you?’
‘Dru? Dru are you down there?’ came a woman’s voice from the bridge above us. My brother went pale at the sound of his name.
‘I was never here!’
‘You gave her my address?!’ I hissed at him, but he’d already turned to face the river.
And with a splash, he was gone.