Josh didn’t have a plan, really, more like a really strong conviction. Something had to be done. No matter how mature and in control of himself Andy had seemed back in England, he saw not the same man anymore. He was a crumpled old skin with some leftover will. A scarecrow imitation of a man. A turd come alive. There was no way Josh was gonna give up and let his former partner stay like that.

Also, there really was no point in fiddling with the damn van over and over: he really was mechanic, yet time and again he went back to the warehouse where it had been put away like it was gonna reveal its mysteries all of a sudden. Maybe Julien could teach him a bit. It would be nice if he was at least able to diagnose hard problems like the ones that stopped the engine from turning on.

With all of the above in mind, Josh went back to the house. It was way time for dinner and anyway, the first step of anything was talking about it. Right now Andy had seemed lucid enough that the conversation might be remembered. Perfect conditions. He just needed to say his piece.

On the couch, Andy was still reading his French newspaper, most likely looking at the pictures. It seemed to be a poor way of distracting his mind from the mess his body was in without moving too much.

“I’m gonna start cooking,” said Josh, closing the door on the rain outside. “Anything you’d like in particular?”

Andy barely made eye-contact. “I’m good. I think I’m not very hungry tonight. I had a bite in the afternoon.” He probably wasn’t able to swallow anything solid right now.

“OK, well,” said Josh, “I’m gonna make a bigger portion anyway so if you change your mind, you’re free to join me.”

He took out a cutting board and some veggies that were stowed away in a cupboard: a tired leek, carrots, some tomatoes, onion and garlic. Vegetable rice it would be, maybe with an egg on top. He started chopping it all and putting the bits together in a frying pan. At the same time water was heating in another pan for the rice. Josh liked to make food light and easy. He didn’t really know any recipe anyway.

“Andy?” he said, calling out.

“Yeah?” said Andy.

“There was something I wanted to talk about,” said Josh, “you know, the elephant in the room.” There was no answer.

Josh had to jump that bridge at some point. “You drink way too much, buddy. I think it’s making you into a shell of a man. Don’t you think?”

Andy had a short, abrupt laugh. “You wouldn’t know it, but this drink is actually making me feel better than I have all day. So much for what you thought.”

“Come on,” said Josh, “you’re not fooling anyone. What made your day so crappy to begin with if not the way you drank yourself stupid last night? Do you think I’m blind? This has been going on for weeks now! I left you to sort it out by yourself because this seemed to be what you wanted, but you’re not going anywhere.”

“Having a drink has nothing to do with that,” said Josh. “You know what’s killing me? Losing my purpose. I spent thirty years on the job, being good at what I do. Here there is no one that needs me. They don’t even speak English! I wish I had thought of that when I followed you and burned all the bridges down.”

Josh made a pretty angry face, but stayed in control. His voice was the only thing that went off a bit. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who said you wanted to go. I followed you thinking you knew what you were doing!”

Andy raised his hands as to say he wasn’t involved. “You were the one driving most of the time,” he said.

“Precisely!” said Josh. He stopped his next sentence before it came out. It was no time for bickering. He wasn’t about to give Andy a perfect reason to close himself up and go back to distracting himself anyway he could. “OK, I don’t want to fight. You say… you say the heavy drinking is not what makes you so miserable, but being here is. Do you actually want to go back to England, to the life you left?”

Andy thought about it, then let out a sigh. “No I don’t,” he said. “Shit.”

Josh kept pushing carefully. “And don’t you think that, wherever you want to go, drinking yourself until you drop might be getting in the way?”

“Of course it does,” said Andy, weary. “But it also pushes me forward, or more like… No, not really.” He sighed again, ran his fingers through his growing hair. “I really am a mess, ain’t I?”

“That you are,” said Josh. This conversation was going way better than he thought. He washed the leek with quiet enthusiasm. “Care to give me a hand with the food?”

“All right,” said Andy. His mind was clearer than it had been for a while now. He could see himself fairly, without pity or anger, without pretending everything was fine. He gathered himself and got up groaning. Andy wasn’t about to physically get better so suddenly. He would be lucky if a couple days got him back together.

“You better give me something that I can do while sitting,” he said, before landing on a chair near the kitchen table.

“You can peel carrots, cut onions, whatever you like,” said Josh, pushing a vegetable peeler and a knife towards his end of the table. Andy started peeling. They made peace in silence for a while, only using short words to get the cooking done. Josh felt silly about the whole thing. Had it been so simple the whole time? Was it a matter of timing, of letting him go far enough that he could see the problem for himself?

Andy added cream and vinegar to the frying bits and stirred. Rice was coming along nicely. The appetizing smell of food gradually replaced the rancid and unhealthy stench the house had during the day. That evening, they were good friends again, they laughed and talked about life and how things could be. As a show of goodwill, Andy only sipped on water. They were gonna work together, get the van repaired and head south before winter came. They were going to pull it off, no matter what obstacle was in their way. After the meal, they went to sleep both content and relaxed, Andy in his bunk bed on the ground floor, Josh up a level in the cozy attic. They dreamt of wonders.

The next day, Andy was drinking again.