Suicide Season

Oliver was scratching something down on a piece of paper, messy and unintelligible from being scribbled down in such a rush.

"Erm... Oliverm what is that?"

He looked down at me from where he was standing; He was a good ten inches taller than I was. "Letter to the tour manager. I'm not going to be going anywhere, not now... I can't; I have a family to tend to."

He turned and sat at the table, pulled an iPhone out of the pocket of his skinny jeans and punched in a phone number.

"ello? Mum? This is Oliveh. Um... Well, I 'ave some news. I just wanted to tell yeh that I've found out I'm a dad."

I could hear her yell 'what' all the way across the room.

"Well, yeh see, an old friend eh mine's the mum. We've got a daughteh. She's three months old." I only just noticed how much of an accent Oliver had, it was much more noticable than mine was.

He hung up the phone and turned to me. "Well..."

"Well, what? What do we do now?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Well... Since Abby's asleep... we could..."