Read Never Look Back for Free Online

should know about? I saw Amber downstairs but she wasn’t in the mood to chat.’
    ‘Nah, Bobby never changes and you should ignore Amber. We all do.’ Alice gave him a wink and walked away.
    Grateful for the mood lift, he turned and knocked three times before opening the door to his brother’s room. Bobby stood by the window, staring out at the garden below. He was tall, like Lockyer, but thinner: a reed, swaying gently. His hair was greying at the temples but his skin was pale and smooth, not a line in sight. More than Lockyer could say for his own weather-worn face.
    This was Bobby’s world; a world in a vacuum. The cream walls were covered with pictures of animals, birds mainly. Bobby loved birds. The bed was pushed up against the wall. It had blue cushions arranged neatly on top of the blue-and- grey striped duvet cover, a Christmas gift from Alice. Lockyer had bought an extra set not long afterwards because Bobby had apparently freaked out when they tried to change his bedding. Bobby’s autism meant his ability to deal with change or the fast pace of the outside world was limited. As far as he was concerned his life was, and had always been, Cliffview. He remembered little else and little else interested him. He was content with his books, games and, most importantly, his routine. Five years Lockyer had been coming here, and Bobby still treated him like a new addition in his life.
    As he watched Bobby at the window, oblivious to his presence, he wondered how Jane dealt with it, the emotional separation. Her son, Peter, was autistic. Lockyer wasn’t sure of the severity of his condition and, if he was honest, was reluctant to ask. If he did, it would lead, no doubt, to talking about Bobby and he didn’t want to talk about Bobby to Jane, or anyone else. It was his private family business. He was sure Jane must feel the same about her son.
    ‘Hey, Bobby, how goes it?’ He walked over to the window and into his brother’s field of vision. Bobby turned his whole body to face him but didn’t meet his eyes. He never did.
    ‘It’s your favourite card shark.’
    ‘Cards,’ Bobby repeated. His voice was quiet and gentle. He rocked from one foot to the other.
    ‘That’s right, buddy, cards. You up for a game?’ He slowly reached his hand out and touched his brother’s sleeve. Sudden movements disturbed Bobby. Lockyer had witnessed a few of Bobby’s ‘episodes’ – that’s what Amber had called them – and he never wanted to see another one. Bobby, eyes rolling, arms lashing out at anyone and anything, and the noise, the noise was unbearable, grinding teeth and a wail that seemed stuck in his throat. He turned and walked away, Bobby following him, as if compelled by a force field. He sat his brother down in one of the two leather wing-back chairs, already positioned facing each other. A pine table had been set up between the two chairs, a blue deck of cards resting in the centre.
    Once Bobby was settled, Lockyer stood in front of him and offered his right hand. His brother lifted it to his face, focusing on the scar that ran from Lockyer’s thumb to his wrist. Five years ago when they had met, it had been the first thing Bobby noticed. The nurses at the home in Manchester told him that Bobby assigned different rituals and indicators to each of the regular nurses and doctors. Something small and seemingly insignificant; a smell or a wedding band or a certain footfall but for Lockyer, Bobby had decided on a scar. That was how he recognized him five years ago and, according to the research Lockyer had done into autism, it was how he always would. He watched Bobby trace the imperfection three times before dropping his hand and picking up the cards in front of him.
    ‘Cards,’ Bobby said.
    Lockyer sat down opposite his brother. ‘That’s right, cards. And I’m telling you, I’m not letting you win this time.’ He thought he saw just the flash of a smile and comprehension on his brother’s face, even