“Hey, they’re cute when they’re little!” Charlie shot back. “It’s just when they get a bit bigger and realise that they could rip your face off that you need to back off a bit. They’re the ones I was working with back home.”
Merlin, he missed them. He knew they were wild animals and didn’t exactly return his affections – it wouldn’t bother them if Charlie bought their food in or if it just got chucked off a broom, as long as they got fed. But that didn’t mean it was any easier. The precarious, one-sided connections he’d cultivated with those reptiles had long outlived any human relationships he’d managed. Charlie sighed again and fell back to rest on his elbows, crossing his legs at the ankles in front of him.
“Lucy’s a good kid,” he nodded. “You can definitely share the Uncle pressure, mate. There’s hundreds of them.”
Charlie frowned a little at the next question, suntanned face and freckles collapsing into a series of lines across his forehead. “Erm... pub?” he offered. “Or I try and get out of the village a fair amount. The island’s bloody tiny, but there’s mountains and forests and some decent cliffs, so it’s not bad for a hike or a few days camping. Sometimes it’s good to get away from all the drama, you know?”