Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 3
Needless to say, I was eager to share the information about Mary's other sons with my godparents, but I controlled myself and waited until I expected them to be home from work. When I phoned to pass on the news to Aunt Anne, she became very excited, insisting that I go over and have dinner with them so that we could 'discuss it'.
Although the news was interesting, I didn't see that there would be much to discuss, at least nothing urgent enough to require me to go to see them that very evening. Still, a meal with two of my favourite people was always worth attending, regardless of the topics that might be discussed. As soon as Aunt Anne opened the door to let me in, she grabbed my arm and pulled me through to the living room.
"Now," she said eagerly, "tell us everything."
"Erm, I thought I already did that when I phoned," I said, amused but slightly puzzled by her excitement.
"Yes, but Geoffrey wasn't here."
"He isn't here now," I pointed out.
"He's upstairs getting changed."
Still holding on to my arm, she dragged me to the bottom of the stairs.
"Geoffrey! Geoffrey! Paul's here with exciting news!"
"News? You mean you haven't told him yet?" I asked.
"Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise. I just told him that you were coming for dinner and that you had something to tell us."
Normally Aunt Anne was a reliable, steady, methodical person, so I wondered why she was behaving a little like an excited schoolgirl. Uncle Geoffrey came downstairs, and from the expression on his face, it seemed that he, too, was puzzled by his wife's behaviour.
"Hi, Paul," he said. "Good to see you. Would you like a G&T?"
"Yes, please. Maybe just a small one."
"I'll have one as well," his wife said, finally releasing her grip on my arm. "Bring it through to the kitchen, and we can talk while we prepare the food. Don't start chatting without me!"
"I thought we were just having pasta with the sauce we made on Sunday?" Uncle Geoffrey said.
"We are," she replied, "but don't say it like that. Paul will think we're just feeding him leftovers."
"Your leftovers are better than what I eat at uni," I said as she disappeared into the kitchen.
While Uncle Geoffrey made our drinks, he asked me what it was that had got his wife so excited. I pointed out that we'd been instructed not to talk about it without her.
"The only thing I can think of that would get her so excited is if you told her you were getting married," he said with a sort of grumpy amusement. Then he raised an eyebrow and added, "It's not that, is it?"
"Absolutely not!" I replied and burst out laughing.
We carried our drinks to the kitchen, where Aunt Anne was putting some garlic bread into the oven. She took a glass from her husband and announced that now I could tell Geoffrey my news. Realising that it might be better to wait until later before mentioning Mary's cause of death, I described how my discussion with Ms Lassiter had made it almost certain that Mary Sterling was my mother and that she was also the mother of two other boys.
When I mentioned their names and ages and told them that they, like myself, had no father listed on their birth certificates, Aunt Anne reacted much more strongly than I might have expected.
"So they're orphans! Just like you!" she said. "And who's looking after them?"
That was one of the things that I hadn't mentioned in my phone call to her, so I told them the boys were in a foster home. Aunt Anne looked horrified.
"Oh, the poor things!" she said. "Just imagine it. Their mum died, they had no family, and they were put in a strange house with people they've never met."
Up until then I hadn't really given any thought to the boys' predicament, and I immediately felt guilty. My lack of consideration wasn't due to callousness or lack of empathy but simply because my brain had been otherwise occupied. There had been a lot of information to process in the few hours since my chat with Ms Lassiter.
As we carried the food into the dining room, Uncle Geoffrey asked if I'd been told how Mary had died. Although I thought it wasn't really a good subject for a pre-dinner discussion, I passed on to them the information that I'd been given. When we started serving the food, Aunt Anne was less ebullient than she'd been earlier, but she certainly wasn't sombre. During the meal, none of us drank much wine.
"Aren't you excited to find out that you have brothers?" Aunt Anne asked me after I'd eaten just a few mouthfuls.
"I'm not sure that 'excited' is the right word to use," I replied, still unsure about my complex mix of emotions.
"But they're your brothers, your only blood relatives, your own flesh and blood," she pointed out as if I'd been missing something obvious.
Then something occurred to me, and I wondered if it explained why hearing about the boys had made her so happy. My godparents were unable to have children, and they'd treated me as kindly and generously as if I had been their own son. Perhaps Aunt Anne considered my previously unknown siblings to be potentially two more surrogate sons.
"At the moment all we know about them is their names and ages, plus the likelihood that their mother is my mother," I said. "As for them being my blood relatives, well, so were Mary and the sperm donor, and that wasn't enough to make them want to stay with me."
My response appeared to have shocked and surprised Aunt Anne, and remembering part of my conversation with the social worker, I tried to divert my godmother's attention.
"Ms Lassiter asked if there are any photos of my mother, just to help confirm that she is Mary Sterling."
"When your gran's room was cleared out, I found some photo albums and other things related to Mary. They're now in the large cupboard just on the right in the walk-in wardrobe," she replied. "But they're going to be very out of date now."
"That's what I told the social worker, but she said she'd still like to see a couple of the most recent photos."
"Maybe in return she'll send a photo of your mum with the two boys," she said hopefully.
For years, I'd avoided looking at photos of my teenage mother, and now the idea of seeing a photo of her aged thirty-something made me feel very uneasy.
"Did you ask when you could meet the boys? I'd love to see them. I wonder if they look as much like your mother as you do."
From what I'd seen in the old photos of Mary as a girl, I didn't think that I looked all that much like her. Yes, we both had blond hair and blue eyes, but her hair was a paler blond, and my eyes were a deeper blue.
"That never cropped up in the conversation," I said. "And maybe meeting them would be, erm, uncomfortable. After all, they're just little kids, and we don't know anything about them. Maybe they have horrible personalities."
"Paul!" Aunt Anne exclaimed. "How can you say that? They're family. And anything 'horrible' in the personality of a little child can be moulded into something good. There's no such thing as a 'horrible' child."
Although I wasn't sure I agreed with her, it didn't seem to be an appropriate time to start a philosophical discussion.
"Ms Lassiter said she hoped to speak with me soon, so I'll wait until she calls me, and then we can see how things go."
"Just think, Paul, these are two little boys who've just lost their mum, their only parent. Don't you feel that's a terrible trauma for a small child? " she said. " And these are your brothers. Shouldn't you try to help them?"
"I suppose so," I said, "but I can't see how I could do anything."
She didn't seem particularly satisfied with my response, but she let the matter drop. Uncle Geoffrey, who hadn't really contributed much to our conversation, asked if we'd all finished eating. When we said we were, he stood up and started clearing the table. He and I took the dishes into the kitchen while Aunt Anne remained sitting at the dining table, apparently studying her placemat.
After that, I declined the offer of a coffee and went home. Feeling physically very tired and emotionally exhausted, I went straight to bed.
The following day, I found a couple of photos of my mother when she was about sixteen. With the photo albums that Aunt Anne had mentioned, I also discovered a box of documents and other small items. Among them was the note that Mary had left when she went away. Although I'd heard about the note, I'd never seen it before. It was written all in block capitals.
The note was very brief, and to me it felt almost brutal. What sort of mother would refer to her child as 'the baby'? Could she not even bring herself to use my name? I could hardly bear to look at the pictures as I photographed them with my phone and sent them to Ms Lassiter. An hour or so later, she sent a very short text to thank me, but there was no other response.
Over the next few days, I finished off my project and started to work on a study schedule. Almost every day, Aunt Anne phoned, supposedly to 'check up' on me, but I know she was waiting for any news about my mother's boys. On the Thursday, Aunt Anne's phone call included an invitation to dinner, which I gladly accepted.
I was enjoying my time alone in the house. Instead of the routine of lectures and study, I had total freedom. I went to bed when I was tired, got up when I'd had enough sleep, and ate whatever I fancied whenever I was hungry. On most days, I did coursework or studied until early evening, and if the weather wasn't too bad, I'd go for a cycle ride or a run. Of course, I knew that I would soon start to miss my student social life, but for the time being, I was content.
Thus, despite all the studying I had to do, that Easter holiday was probably the most relaxed time I'd spent for many months. The arrival of Mrs T on Friday mornings was a welcome diversion, but it also felt good when she finished her work and I had the house to myself again. In the middle of the week following the revelation that I had a couple of half-brothers, there was a call from Ms Lassiter.
"Hello, Mr Cooper," she greeted me. "This is Rose Lassiter."
Of course, she was entered into my caller ID list, so I knew who it was, but I supposed that it was her standard greeting for work-related calls.
"Thanks for the photos of your mother," she continued. "Now, short of DNA evidence, I'm as sure as I can be that your mother was Mary Sterling."
From her tone of voice, I guessed she was joking about the DNA evidence and decided to play along with it.
"Do you want me to send a DNA sample?"
"No thanks," she said and laughed. "Our departmental budget doesn't stretch to DNA analysis."
I wasn't sure what else to say at that point. I felt it would seem presumptuous or even creepy if I came straight out and said something about my godmother wanting to meet the boys. Before the silence became too uncomfortable, the social worker spoke again.
"I thought you might have contacted me before now to ask about your brothers."
"Oh, sorry. I was waiting for you to contact me. I know how busy you must be, and as I'm just a student on my Easter break, it seemed more sensible to wait until it was convenient for you."
"That's very considerate of you, Mr Cooper," she said, apparently convinced by my feeble excuse. "Anyway, as you gave permission, I told your brothers about you, and they, especially Liam, were anxious to know more. However, I didn't have any more information to give them."
"What else would they like to know?"
"Actually, exchanging information through me would be very inefficient, especially as they may want to tell you something about themselves. However, if you agree, I can arrange for them to speak with you on the phone. Normally, it would be unusual to allow such direct communication with someone they'd never met, but as you're their brother, it can be considered to be special circumstances. Of course, it would have to be through my phone, and I would be monitoring the call. I hope you understand the need for that."
"Of course I understand. It's sensible to take precautions."
"Thanks. When would be a convenient time to schedule a call?"
"As I said, I'm a student on a holiday break. I've lots of studying to do, but my schedule is very flexible. Just let me know when it's convenient for you."
At that point I expected her to say that she'd be in touch later to arrange something. Therefore, I was very surprised to hear her immediately suggest four-thirty the following afternoon.
"Erm, yes, okay," I stuttered.
"Great!" she said, obviously very happy with the way our conversation had gone. "If there's a problem, I'll send you a text, but otherwise, I'll call you tomorrow. Goodbye, Mr Cooper."
"Bye," I replied, though I thought she'd already hung up.
I'd wanted to ask her to call me Paul and not Mr Cooper, but I'd left it too late. I contemplated calling Aunt Anne, but there was really nothing significant to report except that I might be speaking to my half-brothers the following day. If I told Aunt Anne about it now, and if the call failed to take place, she would be bitterly disappointed.
I didn't sleep well that night. My brain kept going over different scenarios involving how a conversation with Connor and Liam might proceed. Of course, as I had no idea what I might say, most of the imagined scenarios quickly ground to a halt. I remembered that Ms Lassiter had said that 'especially Liam' wanted to know about me, and that made me wonder if Connor was perhaps not so interested.
Part of me wanted to make a good impression on the boys who were my only living relatives. Another part of me wondered why I should care what a couple of little kids I'd never met should think of me. However, I knew that I did care about not wanting to hurt the feelings of two children who'd just lost their mother. Also, there was a question I kept pushing to the back of my mind: why did Mary abandon me but keep and care for her other sons?
Despite oversleeping, I felt exhausted when I got out of bed, and by the time I'd finished breakfast, it was lunchtime. Any useful studying was impossible, so I just shuffled some papers until they were in the order that would be ready for studying the following day. Almost before I knew it, the time was four-thirty, and the phone rang.
"Hello," I said tentatively.
"Hello, Paul, this is Rose Lassiter. I'm here in the foster home with Connor and Liam, and I have my phone on speaker."
When she used my first name, I initially wondered if mind reading was one of her talents. However, it was more likely that her professional experience would enable her to know that it would be better to be more informal when introducing me to my brothers.
"Hi, Paul, I'm Liam."
There was a very noticeable Meedford accent, and it was clearly the voice of a nervous little boy.
"I'm Connor."
That was the voice of an older boy, slightly husky and definitely not excited, but with the same Meedford accent. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I got the impression that he wasn't feeling very comfortable in this situation. Well, neither was I.
"So, Liam, I hear you just had your seventh birthday. Congratulations!" I said.
Even as I spoke, I realised it was a pretty lame opening comment, but I felt that it was better than being silent.
"Yeah. And Connor will be ten soon. How old are you?"
"I'll be twenty-one in July."
"That's really old," Connor commented.
"It's not all that old," Ms Lassiter said, sounding quite amused.
"Paul, are you really our brother?" Liam asked.
"Yes, we had the same mother."
"She never mentioned you," Connor said with more than a hint of suspicion.
"He really is your brother," Ms Lassiter reassured him.
"Did Mum not tell you about us?" Liam asked.
"The last time I saw her I was only a baby, and you two hadn't been born yet."
This was definitely not the time to go deeper into that topic, so I was very glad when Ms Lassiter spoke up.
"That's all quite complicated and happened a long time ago. Maybe it's best to talk about that when there's more time and after you've all got to know one another."
"Who did you live with if Mum wasn't there?" Liam asked.
"With Grandad and Grandma."
I'd half expected some sort of follow-up question, but none came, so I decided to break the silence.
"Are you two on holiday from school?"
"Yeah," Connor said, showing perhaps the slightest hint of enthusiasm. Then, almost sarcastically, he added, "You know it's Easter Sunday this weekend?"
"Yes. I'm home from university for Easter."
"Are you any good at sports?" Connor asked, in a tone that made me suspect that this might be a sort of challenge.
"I played cricket and tennis at school, and I did a lot of swimming and cross-country running. I also love cycling, but just riding around, not really sports cycling," I replied.
"I was on the school football team," Connor said proudly.
"Well done," I said, unable to think of anything better to say.
I was about to add that I'd been on my school cricket team and captain of the swimming and cross-country teams, but I stopped myself just in time. Getting into a game of one-upmanship with a little boy would definitely not be a good thing, and it would just make me appear to be a prat.
"I don't like sports much," Liam said.
"But you're still little," Connor said.
"I like science and singing, and I was in the school choir," Liam announced proudly.
Noticing that both of them referred to their activities in the past tense prompted me to ask if he was still in the choir.
"No. We had to change school when…" Liam began but didn't finish.
"When we moved to the foster home," Connor said, coming to the rescue.
"I was in my school choir, too," I replied, feeling like an insensitive cad and trying to redeem myself.
"Connor," Ms Lassiter said, "remember I said that Paul studies computers at university? I'm sure he'd like to know that you're interested in computers."
"Yeah," Conor said without much enthusiasm.
"I like playing games on computers," Liam said.
"So do I," I agreed.
"What is it you do with computers?" Connor asked.
Apparently having given the matter some thought, he decided that his interest in computers was more important than maintaining his appearance of being disinterested in the conversation.
"Lots of things," I said, "but my big project just now is about cybersecurity."
Perhaps subconsciously I was trying to show off, and I half expected him to ask what cybersecurity was, but he surprised me.
"You mean like hacking?" he asked.
"More like how to stop hacking, but it's not really very different. You need to know what a hacker might do if you want to stop them from doing it."
Just as the following silence was beginning to feel uncomfortable, Ms Lassiter announced that it was time for our chat to end.
"Awww," Liam said, expressing his disappointment.
"Maybe we can arrange another chat soon," Ms Lassiter said.
"Wait!" Liam called out. "You said we could do pictures."
"I said we might do pictures," she corrected him.
"So can we?"
"If Paul wants to," she said. "Paul, the boys would like to know what you look like, and they said I could send you a photo of them if you send a photo of yourself. Of course, it will have to go through my phone so I can check it's okay before showing it to the boys."
"That's fine with me," I replied. "I'll send one as soon as we finish our chat."
"Okay, boys," Ms Lassiter said. "We really must stop now."
"Bye, Paul," Liam just had time to say before the call ended.
Flicking through some photos on my phone, I found one that I'd recently sent to my godparents. I'd asked one of my flatmates to take a photo of me sitting at my desk and pretending to study. As I wanted to send a photo quickly and didn't want to waste time looking for a better one, I sent that.
A few minutes later, Ms Lassiter must have deemed that the photo was suitable because she sent a photo of the brothers. It was taken at relatively close range and showed their heads and the top half of their bodies against a beige background, which I guessed was a wall of the room they were in. Both boys were wearing dark blue sweatshirts.
One boy, presumably Connor, was about a head taller and had one arm over the shoulder of the smaller boy. Connor, who appeared to be quite well-built for a not-quite ten-year-old, had very short light brown or maybe dark blond hair. Because the photo was reasonably close up, it was just possible to see that he had blue eyes. Both boys were smiling, but whereas Liam's smile lit up his whole face, Connor just smiled with his mouth, and it was clear that it wasn't genuine.
It was easy to see that the brothers had different fathers and that Liam's father possibly had some Mediterranean or Middle Eastern ancestry. His skin was a beautiful shade of golden-brown, and he had short, wavy black hair. However, his eyes were what really caught my attention. They were an amber colour and almost seemed to glow. I wondered if it was just a trick of the light or some artefact related to the camera. His features were softer and rounder than those of his brother, and apart from the eyes, he seemed to be an average, ordinary little boy.
While I was considering whether to forward the photo to Aunt Anne immediately or wait until the following day when I was going to be visiting them, Ms Lassiter called.
"Hello again," she said brightly. "Your brothers have gone to eat now, so I thought I'd let you know that they saw your photo. Connor said you reminded him of his mum, and Liam said you looked nice, but you should smile for photos. Liam also said to tell you that he took his glasses off for that photo. He also asked if you could send a picture of your grandparents."
"He seems a bit obsessed with pictures," I said lightly.
"I think 'obsessed' is too strong a word," she said, taking my words more seriously than I'd intended. "He's certainly a very visually minded little boy, and sometimes he doesn't appear to believe things until he sees them."
"Okay, I'll send a photo," I said. "And you can tell them that they both look nice, too, and that I'm sure Liam looks just as handsome with or without his glasses."
"Apart from thanking you for the photo, I wanted to let you know that I thought the call went very well," she said.
"It did? I thought that parts of it were a bit, erm, uncomfortable."
"Trust me, I've been on many such introductory calls, and very few have gone as well as that did."
"Really? You're not just being polite?"
"Yes, really. And when it comes to my work, I never let politeness get in the way of truth," she said firmly, then added, "What's even more important is how you feel about how things went."
"Well, it was a bit nerve-wracking, but I ended up enjoying it. They're nice people."
"You said 'people', not 'children' or 'boys'. Was that deliberate?"
"Are you psychoanalysing me?" I asked, half joking.
"Of course I am," she replied, not joking at all. "Assessing people is a large part of my job, and I like to put my psychology degree to use. So, was it deliberate?"
"It's just how it came out. I wasn't really thinking about it, but now that I do, it seems people can be nice or not nice, and kids are just a subset of 'people'," I replied, rambling a little.
"You know, many people would have had difficulty with a first meeting like that, even when it was just one new person. But you were meeting two new people and managed to navigate it without any disasters. You even avoided the potential one-upmanship contest with Connor. He can be very competitive."
"Yes, I got that impression."
"Did you also get an idea of the dynamics between the boys?" she asked.
"You mean Connor being reserved and very protective of his brother, and Liam being more open and very interested in the world around him? Given the fact they lost their mother so recently, Connor's attitude isn't surprising, but Liam seems to be relatively unscathed."
"You are correct about Connor, Mr Cooper, but with Liam, it may be that appearances can be deceptive. I'm still working that out, but I feel he hasn't really accepted that his mother is dead. Of course, that isn't unusual in children of his age. I've managed to get a counsellor for them, and I hope that will help."
She paused as if considering her next words very carefully, then continued.
"Perhaps it would help you to understand your brothers better if you knew what happened when your mother died."
"Okay," I said with some trepidation.
"When the boys got home from school, they stayed with a neighbour as they usually did until their mother got back from work. Eventually, when their mother didn't arrive, the neighbour phoned Mary's work. They told her that she had been taken to hospital. The neighbour, who is a very old woman, decided the best thing to do was to phone the police. The police then contacted us.
"Can you imagine how it was for your brothers? Suddenly, their mother disappeared from their lives, they were moved out of their home, and they were left in the care of strangers. Connor cried a lot, though he tried to be brave for his brother. Liam just looked puzzled most of the time, as if he didn't understand what was happening.
"Of course, both boys were traumatised, but they are getting some counselling. Liam accepts that his mum is 'gone', but I'm not sure he understands that she's never coming back."
"That's terrible," I said, "but at least they have each other."
"Yes," she agreed, "and that is, of course, a good thing. However, there are occasions when siblings in this situation will close in on themselves. Because they have each other, they can exclude others, such as those who want to help them. They can drift away from old friends and be reluctant to make new friends. This appears to be the case with your brothers.
"Liam clings to Connor like a limpet," she continued, "and they sometimes get teased for holding hands in public. So maybe now you see that your brothers need special care and that interactions with them need to be handled carefully."
"Yes, of course," I said, "but I'm not a counsellor or psychologist, so I don't know how I could help."
"You're family. You're the only relative they have. Just knowing that they have another brother and that they're not totally alone would be enough to help them," she said. After a brief pause to allow me to assimilate all that, she added, "Anyway, would you be up for another chat with your brothers after the holiday weekend?"
"Yes, but please stop calling me 'Mr Cooper'. I felt much more comfortable when we were chatting with the boys and you called me 'Paul'."
"Okay, Paul. And if it makes you feel more comfortable, you may call me 'Rose'. Bye for now. I'll be in touch again next week."
"Bye," I responded, and yet again I had the feeling that she'd ended the call before I said it.
Because I wanted time to think things through first, I decided to delay sharing the latest information with my godparents until the following day, when I was going to their home for dinner. After all the upset of Gran's death and after the pain of being dumped by Mai Li, my life had seemed to be getting more settled again. Of course, there were final exams coming up, but everything was under control, and I was confident that I'd get decent results.
Now my life suddenly felt much less settled. I'd found out my mother was dead, which wasn't a shock and not even unexpected. However, finding out that she had other children was a surprise. When I first heard about that, my initial reaction was that it was very sad that two children had lost their mother, but I told myself that happened to thousands of kids every day and all over the world.
Even when I'd discovered that they were my brothers, I'd felt no real personal connection to them. They shared some DNA with me, but so did my unknown father and whatever relatives that he might have. However, when I heard their voices, talked to them, and saw the photo,they suddenly became real people in my mind. They were no longer abstract orphans but real children. and I felt the beginning of a personal connection. I began to accept that they were my only blood relatives and that they'd suffered a terrible trauma.
Maybe I was being paranoid, but I wondered if this was what Rose had been working toward ever since she first spoke with me. On the other hand, perhaps she wasn't so clever or devious. However, the more I thought about it, her intentions didn't much matter because the connection I felt was now real. I decided that if I could do so, I wanted to help these boys.
The following day, I felt full of energy and almost light-hearted. Not only did I tweak and improve my project, but I also got through a decent amount of studying. So when I turned up at my godparents' doorstep in the evening, I felt that my whole day had been worthwhile.
"Paul, come in, come in! Can I tempt you to a G&T?" Uncle Geoffrey greeted me warmly. With a sly wink, he added, "Anne is still on her Negroni fad, so you can have one of those if you prefer."
"A G&T is fine, Uncle Geoffrey."
Aunt Anne came out of the kitchen and narrowed her eyes as she looked at me.
"Some good news, then?" she asked.
Although I didn't ever believe she was a mind reader, I often believed she was a Paul reader.
"Maybe," I teased, "but can't you at least let me get a drink before you interrogate me?"
"Of course, sweetie," she said, "then you can come through to the kitchen and chop some salad."
"Isn't chopping and drinking a dangerous combination?" I joked.
"Pish! It's only dangerous after the third drink!"
Uncle Geoffrey and I took our drinks into the kitchen and began to carry out the tasks assigned to us by his wife. Although Aunt Anne didn't believe that cooking was her job, she made sure that she was in charge of the whole operation.
"So, Paul, tell us everything," she said.
"Can I drink, chop and talk all at the same time?" I asked. "You know I'm not good at multitasking."
"Paauuulll," she said, waving a wooden spoon at me.
I laughed, and as we continued food preparations, I told her about my conversations with Rose, Connor, and Liam. As soon as I mentioned the photo, she put down the pan she was holding and demanded that I immediately show them to her. In order to placate her, I went to the hallway and retrieved my phone from my jacket.
"Oh, they're adorable," Aunt Anne cooed, "and they look so much like you and Mary."
Although I disagreed with the second part of her comment, I decided that it wasn't worth contradicting her. One of my most important mottos has always been 'never upset your host or hostess before they've served your dinner'.
"Yes, they do look like nice children, dear," said Uncle Geoffrey, "but you can adore them later, after we finish preparing the food."
"Paul, you must send that photo to me," Aunt Anne said as she reluctantly handed back my phone.
During our meal, it seemed that all she wanted to talk about was the boys, and she kept asking questions, most of which I couldn't answer. By the end of the meal, after two gin and tonics and three glasses of wine, I was happy to accept their invitation to stay overnight. After all, their house had been a second home to me for as long as I could remember.
"So, Paul, what are you going to do?" Aunt Anne asked as we sat in our armchairs and sipped coffee.
"Do? Do about what?"
"Your brothers, of course," she said as if the context of her question should be obvious even to the most intellectually challenged person.
"Erm, as I said, Rose told me that the best thing to do was to let them know they're not alone and they have a brother."
"Exactly!" she said. "And precisely how will you do that?"
As was so often the case, Aunt Anne had seen to the core of the situation. For all my good intentions, and despite now accepting that they were my brothers, I had no idea how I could do anything practical to help them.
"Don't be so hard on the poor boy, dear," Uncle Geoffrey said. "He's been dropped into a very complicated situation that was totally unexpected by any of us. It's not really fair to expect him to come up with a plan of action, much less a solution. And don't forget he has his university course and final exams to deal with."
Mentally, I gave thanks to my godfather for coming to my rescue, as he'd done innumerable times in the past.
"Obviously, I'm going to keep in touch with them," I said defensively, "and Rose said she'd arrange another chat with them after the holiday weekend."
"That's all very well," she countered, "but how can they know you're there for them if they can contact you only when you and the social worker agree on a convenient time?"
Not only did I stay with my godparents overnight on Friday, but I also stayed until Easter Sunday morning, when they went to church, and I realised that I really needed to get some studying done. Before I set off home, they gave me a chocolate Easter egg. I'd long ago pointed out that I was much too old for such things, and they'd long ago chosen to ignore my protestations.
Several times during my stay, Aunt Anne asked what exactly I was going to do to 'be there' for my brothers, and every time she did, I told her that I was still thinking about it. One thing that I did think of was to find a photo of myself that showed me smiling, as Liam had suggested. I also found a photo of Gran and Grandad taken when I was fourteen.
On Tuesday morning, I received a text message from Rose asking if I would be available for a second chat with the brothers at four o'clock that afternoon. I replied that I would be available, and I sent the photo of me smiling, together with the photo of my grandparents. I also wrote that I'd like to talk with her before chatting to the boys. Within an hour of me sending that text, Rose called.
"Hello, Paul. Thanks for the text and the photos, which I'm sure will please Liam. What was it you wanted to talk about? Are you having second thoughts?"
"Second thoughts? What about?"
"About being available for your brothers," she replied, sounding a little concerned.
"Oh, no!" I said. "There are no second thoughts. I've decided that I do want to be a brother for them. It's not a case of second thoughts but of practical thoughts. I wonder if they can feel that I'm available if our chats can be arranged only when you and I can find a mutually convenient time. And that may be even more difficult when they go back to school and I go back to university."
"Yes, I see what you mean," she said, apparently relieved. "However, there are protocols in place to protect the children in our care. Of course, you are their brother, but let's be frank, you are someone who is almost unknown to me and to the boys. And these boys are particularly vulnerable just now."
"Of course I completely understand," I said. "Their wellbeing has to be the absolute consideration. I don't know how these things work, so I was hoping an experienced person like yourself could make suggestions. For example, could I send them gifts? If so, what sort of thing would they want that you would approve of?"
"The standard protocols are carefully designed and implemented to keep children safe. They involve staged procedures and monitored interactions," she insisted, as if quoting from some rule book.
"Presumably, at some stage the protocols would allow them to phone me if they felt a need to talk. Do they even have a phone?" I asked.
Having got a new phone for Christmas, I knew that if necessary, I could let my brothers have the old one.
"Of course I'm glad that you're beginning to care about the boys' needs, but these things shouldn't be rushed. However, I'll give serious consideration to what you said and will discuss it with my line manager."
"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate that."
"I really have to dash now. Don't forget four o'clock."
"Okay. Bye," I said, but yet again, she'd ended the call before I finished speaking.
At the appointed time, Rose called and announced that Connor and Liam were there and that her phone was on speaker.
"Hi, Connor and Liam," I said. "I hope that you had a good Easter."
"It was okay," Connor said without enthusiasm.
"Thanks for the new pictures. You look much better when you smile," Liam said. "Your grandma and grandad look nice, too. What's that big old building behind them?"
"Don't forget that they were also your grandma and grandad," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but they're dead, too," Connor observed.
I wondered if his use of the word 'too' might be a reference to his mother but decided to continue answering Liam's question.
"That photo was taken one of the times we visited Durham Cathedral. I love visiting old castles and cathedrals."
When there was no immediate response, I felt the need to fill the silence.
"And you both look good in the picture you sent," I said. "Liam, Rose said you took your glasses off for the last photo. Do you usually wear glasses all the time?"
"No, just when I'm reading or on the computer."
There was another lengthening silence as the conversation stalled.
"I got a chocolate egg for Easter," I said.
It was the first thing that came into my head, but as soon as I said it, I wondered if it might be a mistake.
"We got one each," Liam said, "but only little ones."
"You're too old for Easter eggs," Connor accused.
Having seen his photo, I could easily imagine him frowning.
"Try telling that to my Aunt Anne," I joked.
"I thought you didn't have any relatives except me and Liam," Connor commented, quickly picking up the implications of what I'd said. "Isn't she our aunt, too?"
"She's not my real aunt. She's not related at all," I replied. "She and her husband were Grandma and Grandad's best friends, and they were my godparents. They helped look after me when I was growing up. So I just call them Aunt and Uncle."
"Godparents?" Liam asked. "What's that?"
"When I was baptised as a baby, they promised that they'd make sure I was brought up to be a good person."
"Did they?" Connor said, with more than a hint of scepticism. "Did they make sure you were a good person?"
"You know, I'm not the one to judge whether or not I'm a good person."
"I think you're a good person," Liam said. "You sound like a good person."
"Thanks. I try my best," I said, grateful that they couldn't see my blushes.
"Do you live with Aunt Anne?" the older boy asked.
"No, I used to live with Grandma and Grandad. After Grandad died, it was just me and Gran. Then she died just over a year ago."
"You've been all on your own for all that time?" Liam asked, sounding almost distressed at the idea.
"Most of the year I'm at university and share an apartment with three other students. And when I'm not at university, I spend a lot of time with Aunt Anne and Uncle Geoffrey."
"Will you send us a picture of them?" Liam asked.
"Of course I will."
"I bet it's nice to have an aunt and uncle, but it's better having a brother," the younger boy said with deep conviction.
"I'm sure it is," I agreed.
"We have to go back to school soon," Connor said, sounding as if he didn't relish the prospect.
"What are your favourite subjects?" I asked.
"Computing and PE," Connor said.
"Art and Music and Science," Liam chipped in.
"What were your favourite subjects?" Connor asked and then added snidely, "Or is it too long ago to remember?"
Although Rose didn't say anything, somehow I could imagine her giving Connor a glare, or at the very least a raised eyebrow. As for myself, I didn't take any offence and felt that I was beginning to understand him a little.
"My ancient, puny brain can just about recall that I liked computing and maths and science and history and music."
"That's a lot," Liam said.
"Well, mostly I enjoyed school," I said.
I thought that I heard Connor make a snorting sound, but I couldn't be sure, and at that point, Rose announced that our time was up and that we had to end the call.
"Awwwww," both brothers said, almost in unison.
"Can we talk to Paul again soon?" Liam asked.
"We'll see," Rose said. "Now say goodbye."
"Bye, Paul," Liam said, closely echoed by Connor.
"Bye, brothers," I replied without thinking.
Immediately after the call ended, I asked myself about my farewell words. Was I addressing them as two brothers, or was it a subconscious way of referring to them as my brothers? More importantly, how did they interpret it?
About ten minutes later, Rose called.
"Are you going to psychoanalyse me again?" I joked.
"Certainly," she replied in a jovial tone that made me wonder if she wasn't completely serious. "Anyway, I hope you weren't offended by Connor's jibes about being too old."
"Not at all. He seems to be a boy who likes to push boundaries but doesn't mean anything bad by doing it. Maybe he was even testing me to see how I'd respond. In any case, I took it as a compliment that he felt comfortable enough to try his little jibes on me."
"Are you sure you didn't study psychology, at least a little bit?" she quipped.
"Not formally, but I suppose that understanding the basic psychology of our fellow human beings has an evolutionary advantage."
"About the other matter, I've not had time yet to discuss things properly with my line manager, but I hope to be able to do it tomorrow," she said. "It occurred to me that at some stage you and your brothers might like to meet in person."
"Of course, I'd like to at some stage, but it would need to be after my final exams."
"I hope you'll understand that initially any meeting would need to be supervised, but as you mentioned regarding phone calls, as a long-term situation that would be quite restrictive. After the initial supervised contacts, it would be more convenient for everyone if there was no need for supervision."
"Of course," I agreed. "And I assume that you'd need to get to know me better."
"Not just that, but we'd prefer also to have background checks done. How would you feel about that?"
"That's fine with me, but in about ten days I'll be going back to university, so if you need to see me in person, it would have to be either before then or after my exams in June."
"I'll see what can be done. Anyway, you should think about it, and if you still wish to agree to a background check, send me a text with your email address, and then I'll send you the appropriate forms to fill in."
"Okay, I'll do that."
"Oh, and to answer one of your questions, the boys don't have a phone."
"Would it be okay if I sent them my old phone? Of course, I'd do a factory reset and put in a pay-as-you-go SIM. I could make sure that the SIM is kept topped up. Then at least they could contact me when you're not available."
"That's very generous of you. It could be possible, but as I said, I still need to confirm it with my line manager. Even then, at least at first, the calls would need to be monitored, probably by one of their foster carers. If it turns out that everyone is comfortable with the idea, you'll need to send the phone to me at my office. I'll pass it on to them, and they'll make sure that it is completely reset and has appropriate parental controls on it."
"That would be great!" I enthused, happy that my idea might be accepted. "I think it might be good for them to know that they can contact their brother if they want."
"A word of caution, Paul," she said. "Your brothers could suffer serious emotional damage if you get close to them and then, for any reason at all, back away. That's one of the reasons that we have the protocols in stages. You need to be committed to completing the journey; otherwise, it's best not to begin it."
"I understand. I've started to become fond of them. In any case, I'd never do anything to hurt them."
"Sadly, children are often hurt by people who have the best intentions and don't want to cause any harm. Our protocols are designed to minimise the risk of that, but they can never eliminate all risk."
"You can't make things better if you don't take any risks," I said, perhaps a little too glibly.
"We don't take risks with children," she replied sternly. In a more gentle tone, she added, "As I mentioned before, because these boys recently lost their mother suddenly, they're still grieving. They may not show that openly to you, or even to anyone, but they are very vulnerable just now.
"No two children are exactly the same, and because your brothers are different ages, each of them may deal with the situation in different ways. I understand and appreciate you're very busy with your studies just now, but if you're prepared to do it, it may be helpful for you to do some background reading on children dealing with bereavement. Anyway, I'll send you some links and leave it for you to decide."
Although that seemed to me to hint of emotional manipulation, I accepted that her main goal was to help my brothers.
"I'll do whatever I can," I said. Then, remembering something she'd said previously, I continued, "You mentioned that you managed to get counselling for them. I guess that must have been difficult with social services budgets being stretched. So I wondered if I could help by paying for some counselling and maybe get extra for them."
"That's a lovely thought, Paul, but I think you don't realise how much counselling sessions cost."
"I'd rather this information isn't spread around, but my grandparents left me quite comfortable financially, and I'd really like to do something practical to help my brothers."
"In that case I'll mention it to my line manager," she said.
"Great. And please let me know if there is anything else I can do for them."
"Okay," she replied. "One last thing. Can you be available for another chat with your brothers on Friday morning at nine o'clock? I'm sorry it's so early in the day, but that's my only free time slot before the boys go back to school."
"Yes, that's fine."
"Bye, Paul."
"Bye, Rose," I said.
This time, I thought that maybe I'd managed to say the words before she hung up.
As soon as the call ended, I sent Rose a text with my email address, after which I went online and ordered a pay-as-you-go SIM card. Then, feeling very hungry, I made myself a quick and easy early evening meal of pasta and tuna.
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