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Miles studies the hat in his hands, fascinated. He runs his fingertips over the stitching and frayed patches, handling the item of clothing almost as old as him with utmost care. It is Raymond’s hat; his father’s hat.
“Miles, what are you doing?”
He looks up to find Raymond in the doorway, his hair still wet and a towel slung around his shoulders. He stares at Miles, frowning.
“Oh, I was just looking at your hat. I remember my father wearing it.”
“Yeah, well, it used to be his,” Raymond says, his voice stilted. “Can you put it down now?”
“In a moment, Raymond,” Miles says, raising his eyebrow.
Raymond stares at him, and then darts forwards, making a grab for the hat. Just what is the matter with him?
“Give it back!” Raymond snaps, and he looks like he might cry.
Miles stands up, studying Raymond this time. This panicky, jumpy behaviour is painfully familiar…
Did Miles seriously fail to notice Raymond’s behaviour? He knows he struggles to read people, but this… was a serious slip up. Today must be a bad day.
“My apologies, Raymond,” he says, holding out Raymond’s hat.
Raymond snatches his hat back and holds it to his chest, breathing heavily.
“Raymond, are you all right?”
He shakes his head. “No. Miles… this is Gregory’s hat. Please don’t touch it. If I lose it… I’ll forget all about him.”
Miles blinks, processing those words. So Raymond is having a delusion, and thinks misplacing the hat will wipe his memories of Gregory? It doesn’t make any sense, but delusions are like that. And as Miles knows he should go along with Raymond’s delusions, he nods and says, “I understand. Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Raymond mumbles. “Sorry for… snapping.”
“It’s all right,” Miles says, giving Raymond a reassuring smile.