Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 17
Based on the suggestions that Aunt Anne had given me for Katie's birthday present, I bought a small wristwatch which was on a band that doubled as a charm bracelet. As their contribution, my brothers each paid for a couple of charms that could be attached to it. We also decided to sign one card that was from all three of us.
Connor was very keen to help me prepare the food, and although Liam started out by keeping us company in the kitchen, he eventually lost interest and wandered off to do his own thing. First, he played for a while on the piano, which reminded me that I still hadn't got around to having it tuned. Then he went into the garden, eventually returning to the kitchen to get himself a drink.
Katie's birthday was also the day that was effectively the end of my brothers' long vacation with me, so they would be spending the next couple of nights back in the foster home. There were still four days after that before they went back to school, and they'd have an overnight stay with me before then. However, the mood of all three of us was quite subdued that morning, especially as we packed the car after lunch.
In the days since Sarah and David had returned from their vacation, they'd already spoken to my brothers a few times on the phone and thus had received a broad outline of the boys' holiday activities. However, that didn't prevent Liam and Connor from regaling them with more detail and offering to show them photos even as we were still handing over the foods.
"I helped Paul make all this," Connor said proudly as the mini sausage rolls, potato salad, cake and trifle were put onto the counter.
"So did I," his little brother added.
"Liam gave moral support and encouragement," I said diplomatically before the older boy could contradict him. "But Connor did most of the work on the sausage rolls."
"They're great with Gran's chutney," Connor commented, giving me a huge grin.
"So you've had some already?" Sarah asked, greatly amused.
"We had some for lunch," he replied.
"As well as the chef's prerogative," I pointed out, "it's also his duty to taste the food he prepares."
Katie and Mike, who'd come down to the kitchen as soon as we arrived, asked if they could try the sausage rolls, too. Sarah said that because they were only mini rolls, they could have one each.
"These are really nice," the girl commented, sounding a little surprised.
"Yeah," Mike agreed in a similar tone.
While Sarah put the food away and David made us some tea, I handed Katie the card from me and my brothers.
"Do you want your present now or at your party?" I asked her.
"Now, please," she replied, looking at me as if I were slightly insane or maybe just making a very bad joke.
Everyone watched closely as she unwrapped it and lifted it up for everyone to see. I was pleased and a little relieved to see that she was obviously delighted with the gift.
"Me and Connor got you these," Liam said as he pointed out four charms on the bracelet.
"Thanks," she said sincerely. "Thanks a lot."
My brothers went upstairs to unpack their bags, and everyone else, including Susie, took a close look at Katie's present. Of course, the toddler tried to grab it, but Sarah was expecting that and made sure she couldn't reach it. We three adults sat at the table with our mugs of tea, and the little girl immediately climbed onto her father's lap.
Liam came back into the kitchen, and I asked him where his brother was. His rather indelicate response was to announce loudly that Connor was 'on the bog'.
"Is it okay if I go and play the new game you got me?" Katie asked Sarah.
"Yes, of course," she replied. "It's your birthday and your present."
Liam asked Katie if he could play the game with her, and when she happily agreed, they both left the kitchen together.
Mike remained standing but moved a little closer to me.
"I've done some running in the holidays," he said quietly.
"That's great. Are there any good places where you were staying?"
"They were okay. Nearly as good as the park but not as good as the Dell."
"But you still enjoyed it?"
"Yeah, but I was on my own," he replied, "and I think it's better if you run with someone."
"For me, even if there's someone else there, in a way, I always run on my own," I said, and in response to his puzzled frown, I tried to explain. "I get absorbed in what I'm doing. I go at my own pace, either relaxed or pushing myself, depending on my mood. If other people are there, it's just like they're part of the scenery."
"I thought you did cross-country," Mike said. "That means you have to race against others, so you have to notice how fast the others are going."
"Not really. In a competition, it just means that I have to be pushing myself as hard as possible and try to win, but you have to bear in mind that it's about stamina, not just speed. Trying to push too hard to stay at the front means you get tired more quickly and will probably end up falling behind."
"Oh," he said, sounding a little confused.
"Did you remember the warming up and cooling down exercises?" I asked.
"Most of the time, but sometimes I forget what to do," he said. "Maybe you can show me again sometime, just to remind me."
"Okay," I agreed and smiled, "and if you want, I can share some tips I got from my running coach at school."
"Our school just has the PE teacher as a footie coach and a cricket coach."
"If you get a running team going at school, you can be the coach and pass on to them what you've learned from me," I said lightly.
"That would be great!" he said enthusiastically, making me realise that my half-joke had been taken very seriously.
Suspecting that I may have made an error of judgement, I looked away from the boy and saw that both David and Sarah were looking at me with concern. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of any immediate way to fix the situation.
"What about this afternoon?" Mike asked hopefully.
"Erm, what?" I said, feeling uncertain and a little confused.
"There's lots of time till the party. So can we do a run this afternoon?"
"Oh, I didn't bring my stuff," I replied. Then I saw his look of disappointment and added, "But if you just want to go to the park, I can jog along with you and maybe give a little coaching."
I looked at his foster carers, and although I didn't detect any disapproval, I also didn't see any sign of encouragement.
"Great," the boy said happily, "I'll get changed."
After he left the room, Sarah merely reminded me to take care, and at that moment Connor entered the room. He probably didn't hear what she said, but if he did, he ignored it.
"Mike said you're going to the park with him," he accused me.
"I'm going to give him some running tips," I said to him soothingly. "Do you want to come?"
"Obviously," he replied, rolling his eyes.
When we got to the park, Connor didn't do any running but instead just kept close to my side. On one occasion, when showing an exercise, Mike lost his balance, and I reached out to steady him. I'd forgotten his aversion to being touched, but fortunately, there was no extreme reaction, although he did tense up a little. While he was winding down after his run, I spoke with him about my observations.
"You're pushing yourself very hard," I said, "maybe too hard. When you're still growing, it's possible that exercising too hard can cause damage."
"I need to get better," he replied, slightly breathlessly. "I need to get fitter."
"It's better to coax your body into improving rather than punishing it to make it do what you want."
As soon as I said the word 'punish', his expression of self-satisfaction disappeared, and his face and body froze. I immediately realised that I should have thought much more carefully about my choice of words. I wondered if he remembered being punished, and I recalled reading that sometimes abused children even felt they'd deserved to be punished. That in turn made me wonder if some of his obvious anger might be partly directed at himself.
"You're doing great," I encouraged him, "and I can already see that you're running better than just a few weeks ago. I know that sometimes the improvements you want can seem to be coming too slowly, but it's best to be patient and take things steady."
"You really think I'm getting better?" he asked, looking a little happier.
"Of course I do," I assured him.
After the party, which was very much enjoyed by everyone, I stayed for an hour or so to socialise and then said my farewells. My brothers followed me to the car and gave me prolonged 'goodbye hugs', apparently wishing to delay my departure for as long as possible. I pointed out that in less than forty-eight hours I'd be back to pick them up again, and eventually they relaxed their grip on me.
They stayed with me again from Sunday afternoon until Tuesday, the day before they started the new term at school. That evening, they called me to say that they hadn't enjoyed their first day back and would rather live with me. However, I pointed out that even if they lived with me, they'd still have to go to school.
Late on the Tuesday afternoon, I had a call from Carol, the social worker who would handle the adoption process. Her first visit was a couple of days later, and she arrived at the arranged time with an iPad and an armful of papers. She was a short, slightly chubby, middle-aged woman with long, greying auburn hair and grey-green eyes. Her slightly old-fashioned calf-length floral dress was quite bright and seemed to match her bright and friendly personality.
That initial meeting was really just a chat, an introduction to the processes involved, and filling in several forms. Subsequent visits over the next few weeks were just as friendly but much more intense. There were detailed questions about my life and circumstances, my childhood, my hobbies, my friends, my family, my support network, my education, my work, my income, and my plans for the future. Her inspection of my house and garden was quick but thorough.
Although she'd obviously already had details about me and my brothers from others, she asked me several questions covering the same topics. Apart from obtaining factual information, she also asked questions that were designed to probe my psychology and my philosophy of life. During the weeks that those interviews were being carried out, I had to attend various training courses, often with other prospective adopters.
In parallel with the adoption-related procedures, my brothers and I evolved a routine: I would pick them up after school on Fridays and take them back in time for Sunday lunch. Sometimes I'd have lunch with them, and then if the weather was dry, I'd take the children to Lytton Dell or some other location where Mike could go for a run. On most evenings during the week, I'd have a video chat with Connor and Liam.
Although neither of the boys admitted to enjoying school, David reported that they were doing quite well in their studies. A couple of weeks into the school term, Connor called me earlier than usual to announce with pride and delight that he was now on the school football team. I congratulated him profusely, and even Liam, who had little interest in sport, was obviously pleased for his brother.
Around the middle of term, late on a Wednesday afternoon, David phoned me. By that time I'd become friends with him and Sarah, but as we chatted every Sunday, a midweek call was unexpected.
"I had a call from Connor's football coach this afternoon," he said, sounding just a little concerned.
"Is he okay?" I asked, beginning to feel worried. "He didn't get injured, did he?"
"No, he's fine," he reassured me, "but I was told he may lose his place on the team if he continues to refuse to play on Saturdays."
"I thought they played on Wednesday afternoons."
"They do mostly, but some schools they play against can only play on Saturday mornings. Anyway, the coach said that although Connor's one of their best players, it's not fair to the others if he gets to pick and choose what games he plays in. So if he doesn't make himself available for Saturday games, then he'll be dropped from the team."
"Yes, of course," I said, "I was captain of a couple of my school's teams, so I completely understand the coach's point of view. Anyway, I'll talk to Connor tonight and sort things out."
"That's great," he said, sounding relieved. "I'll leave it with you, then."
Later, before his teatime , Connor called me.
"David said you wanted to talk to me about the footie team," he said apprehensively.
From his frown and slightly defensive body language, I could tell that he didn't really want to have this conversation. Liam, who was usually jostling with his brother for screen space at the beginning of a video chat, was hovering in the background, looking slightly concerned and a little puzzled.
"I hear that you might lose your place on the team if you refuse to play on Saturdays," I said, getting straight to the point. "And I'm guessing that may have something to do with visiting me at weekends."
"Obviously," he said a little defiantly.
"So why didn't you talk to me about it?"
"There was no point. I'd rather visit you than play on the team."
"We're brothers, so there's always a point to talking about things," I replied patiently. "Even if we can't always find solutions to problems, at least we can understand things better by talking. And in this case, there seems to be a relatively easy solution. When you have games on Saturday, I'll take you to the games, watch you play, then bring you back here."
"But you'll still pick us up on Friday?" Liam asked worriedly.
"Yes," I reassured him, "the weekends will be exactly the same as usual except for going to see Connor's game."
"Really?" the older boy asked as if he didn't quite believe me. "But what about Liam? He's not interested in footie."
"That's up to him," I replied, then looked at the younger boy, who had now moved closer to the screen. "Liam, you can watch the match with me, or play on your phone in the car, or I can drop you off at the foster home during the game, or anything else you want to do."
"Do I have to choose now?" the little boy asked with a frown.
"No, you can choose whatever you want on the day. In fact, if it's raining, I might want to sit in the car with you."
That seemed to satisfy both boys, and Connor announced that his first Saturday game was that very weekend.
Having spent so much time with my brothers all day, every day, during their long summer vacation, I initially enjoyed getting control of my own schedule after they returned to school. However, I soon began to miss having them around my house, and I looked forward to our weekends at least as much as they did.
It wasn't loneliness that I felt, because after Gran died I was accustomed to being alone, and I'd often spent a lot of time on my own when I was growing up. In fact, my alone time usually helped me to recharge my mental batteries. Also, in the evenings, I frequently had dinner with my godparents, and from September to Christmas, I was kept quite busy with the adoption training and assessment procedures.
As well as me, there were three couples on the course. They ranged in age from late twenties to early forties, so not only was I the only singleton, but I was also the youngest. The couples seemed to become friends quite quickly with one another, but although they were friendly toward me, I felt like an outsider. However, I did find the course both enjoyable and helpful. Also, I often discussed the training with David and Sarah, who'd become my good friends.
By the end of September, it had been well over three months since I'd been with Stephane, and I was feeling very horny. I briefly considered dating sites, but it wasn't something that I'd done before, and it didn't seem the right sort of thing for me. Also, I was concerned that any future vetting might turn up my profiles on dating sites, and I worried how that might affect any assessments.
An additional complication was that I wasn't sure exactly what I was looking for and how any potential romantic relationship might affect my future interactions with my brothers. After considerable thought, it occurred to me that the best solution for me would be to find a 'friend with benefits'. Despite my lack of experience and my slight preference for sex with women, I thought that another male might be more likely to be interested in the sort of non-romantic relationship that I wanted.
One Thursday night, I decided to try my luck at a gay bar in Linchester. At first, it seemed that my plan would be successful, because within half an hour of sitting down with my drink, an attractive young man came over and sat at my small table. He was very slightly chubby, about my age and height, and had green eyes with medium-length light brown hair. He smiled broadly and leaned slightly toward me.
"I know this sounds like a clich é ," he said in a mild local accent, "but I've not seen you here before. Are you a new student at the uni?"
"No," I replied, returning his smile, "I'm not new to the city, but I've never been to this bar before."
He introduced himself as 'Sandy', and I wasn't sure if that was really his name or merely a nickname based on his hair colour. However, I didn ' t really care because he was attractive and I was horny.
It soon became obvious that he was skilled at making relatively shallow conversation with strangers, and as my own attempts seemed relatively clumsy, I was happy for him to take the lead. As we talked, I noticed that he occasionally looked toward and exchanged nods with a group of young men standing at the bar. Once I thought that I saw him wink at them, but I couldn't be sure.
After almost an hour, during which our mutual attraction became obvious, he said that he had a flat nearby and asked if I wanted to go back for coffee or a nightcap. Although I was naive in such matters, I knew that meant sex was on offer, so I quickly accepted.
"Oh, by the way," he said as I was quickly finishing my gin and tonic, "are you a top or a bottom? It doesn't really matter because I can be vers."
"Erm, neither," I stuttered, blushing.
"So vers, like me."
"No, erm, I don't do it either way," I said.
Somehow I couldn't bring myself to say the word 'anal' or to say that even if I did do it, I wouldn't do it with someone I hardly knew. He looked at me for a moment and possibly showed a little disappointment, then he stood up.
"Sorry," he said insincerely, "this was a mistake."
He went to join the group of young men at the bar and said something to them, briefly looking over his shoulder at me. His companions also looked at me, and a couple of them laughed. Feeling humiliated, I quickly left the bar and got a taxi home.
After that disaster, it took me a couple of weeks to recover my self-confidence enough to decide to try to meet a compatible young woman. Unlike the gay bar, it took several visits to a couple of bars before I eventually found someone with whom there was a mutual attraction and desire for no-strings sex. She was average height, slim, with long black hair, deep brown eyes and breasts that were perfect for her body type.
She quickly accepted an invitation to come back to my house. The sex was wonderful, and we didn't get much sleep, so I was tired and had satisfyingly aching muscles when I offered her some breakfast. She declined, and I asked if we could exchange numbers so that maybe we could meet up again sometime. She refused without hesitation.
"Look, this was a lot of fun," she said a little coldly, "but I thought I made it clear that this was going to be a one-time thing."
"Oh, yeah, right," I said, feeling very embarrassed. "Sorry."
"Don't take it personally," she said. "You're a nice guy, but, well, I'm in a relationship and just having some fun before settling down."
While I was still thinking about how personally I really was taking it, she called an Uber. Apart from a couple of banal pleasantries, neither of us said anything while she waited for her ride to arrive.
For several days after that, I thought about my recent experiences and what I really wanted for the future. All my previous sexual experiences had been with people I'd met as part of my ordinary life, and I'd never before actually gone looking for a partner. Philip and later Jenny had been my classmates, Mai Li and I had found each other at a university party, and Stephane had been a flatmate.
It occurred to me that if I was looking for a 'friend with benefits', then maybe I first needed friends. As Philip, Jenny, Mai Li and Stephane had become friends as part of normal daily life, it seemed reasonable to meet new friends in the same way. So I decided that maybe it would be a good idea to look for a job. Then I remembered that Dr Baker had mentioned a local organisation with which he had connections.
With my current schedule and commitments, however, there was little time available for an actual job. Therefore, I decided that I could explore that possibility after the adoption training was finished and after Christmas was over with.
On their second weekend visit after the start of term, Liam claimed that some of the previously 'baby' apples and pears were now ripe enough to eat. A quick look confirmed that he was correct, and with him mounted on my shoulders, I instructed him which fruits to pick. As the weeks went on, more and more fruits ripened, and we picked far more than we could eat, so many of them were passed on to their foster home and to my godparents, who in turn passed most on to the church.
The quinces were another proposition, however, because they couldn't be eaten raw, and I didn't feel motivated enough to make jam. Aunt Anne said she had neither time nor skill for jam making, so almost all the fruit was given to members of their church. To my surprise, Sarah decided she'd like to experiment, and she made a few jars of very passable quince jam, but her greatest success was making them into a delicious pie filling.
During my regular visits to pick up and return my brothers, David and Sarah were always happy to chat generally, and occasionally we discussed fostering and adoption. Thus, their house began to feel almost like a second home to me. Initially, I'd felt a little guilty when I joined them so often for their fabulous Sunday lunches, but I always took something, usually dessert, so I didn't feel like a total parasite.
One evening, when I was having dinner with my godparents and telling them how well I was getting on with David and Sarah, Aunt Anne asked a question.
"You spend almost every weekend at their home eating their food," she said. "Why haven't you ever invited them for a meal at your house?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I never thought about it. I don't know if they'd want to drive for half an hour just to have dinner with me."
"Young people today don't have any social graces," she complained, looking pointedly at me. "You should at least invite them and give them the opportunity to decline."
"As you said, dear," Uncle Geoffrey said to his wife, "things are different now, and young people don't feel the need to follow the sort of rules of etiquette that were taught to us as children."
"And if they don't want to accept the invitation, won't it make them uncomfortable if they need to decline it?" I asked.
"Pish! You said you thought of them as friends now," she said dismissively. "Friends aren't embarrassed by being invited for a meal. And I think they'd love to see where Connor and Liam spend so much time."
"They've seen a video tour of the house, and it's a long way to bring their family just for a meal."
"Don't be silly, Paul. A video isn't the same thing at all, and you could make it worthwhile for them if you make it into an occasion," she persisted. "Why not invite them on a Saturday for something, like, say, a fruit harvesting. They could arrive for lunch, spend the afternoon, and then you could provide them with a nice evening meal before they go home."
"That seems like an awful lot of work," I protested.
"It's not as if you're all that busy, and I can help with preparations. And anyway, I'd really like to meet the whole family."
"Ahh! And there we have it," Uncle Geoffrey pronounced sagely.
It seemed that he'd understood his wife's real motivation before I had. Although she'd briefly met Sarah and David before our first trip to the memorial garden, she wanted an excuse to meet and get to know my brothers' foster family properly.
The following weekend, when I was chatting with David and Sarah, I made the invitation and was mildly surprised when they accepted, with the proviso that they'd need to consult with Katie and Mike. Both children said they wanted to visit me, Mike being more eager than I expected. So we arranged for a Saturday when Connor didn't have a football game and when it was likely that there would still be plenty of ripe fruit to be picked.
When I collected my brothers after school on the Friday of that particular weekend, I made sure that David and Sarah had directions to my house. I also pointed out that they were welcome to arrive at any time before lunch the following day. I'd already been making food preparations before collecting the boys, and when we got home, Connor helped with a few finishing details.
Aunt Anne brought even more food on the Saturday morning and announced that her husband was busy but would arrive later in the afternoon. Fortunately, although it was a chilly day, the weather was dry, and there was only a slight breeze, so it was possible to have some outdoor activities, including using the barbecue. David and Sarah arrived in their car at about eleven thirty.
Seeing that my brothers were very eager and excited to show their foster family around the house, David and Sarah declined my offer of tea and opted to go straight into the tour. Having completed the downstairs area, Liam wanted to show them the garden immediately, but Connor wanted to show them upstairs. Mike indicated a preference for seeing upstairs first.
"Maybe Paul doesn't want visitors looking upstairs," Sarah suggested, looking at me.
"I don't mind," I said, smiling and shrugging my shoulders, "but I wouldn't have thought that bedrooms and bathrooms are very interesting."
"There's the office, too," Connor pointed out.
"Ha! I bet Connor wants to show off the bee day!" Liam commented knowingly, then started giggling.
The adults fell into an embarrassed silence, my brothers grinned at each other, Mike and Katie looked puzzled, and Susie, apparently understanding that they were about to go upstairs, decided she wanted her dad to carry her.
"I still have a few things to do in the kitchen," Aunt Anne said, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence.
"I'll join you," I said. Addressing my brothers, I added, "You guys can go upstairs if you want."
My godmother and I sorted out what we were going to have for lunch and what was going to be set aside for our evening meal. Meanwhile, she commented on how adorable the children were, especially little Susie. A few minutes later, David and Sarah came downstairs with Susie.
"Sarah and I decided not to stay around for the bidet demonstration," he said, looking very amused, "but Mike and Katie were curious about it."
"I'm sorry about that," I replied, blushing again. "I didn't expect that Connor would want to include that in the tour, and I certainly didn't expect that Liam would announce it like that."
"No need to apologise," Sarah said and smiled. "There's no harm done, and when you've been around children as much as we have, you'll get to know the sort of things they find interesting."
"While we wait for them to come down, I think now's a good time for us to have some tea," Aunt Anne said.
"I hope you don't mind me saying so, Paul," David said while the tea was brewing, "but it seems a bit odd that you have an office upstairs. Wouldn't it be more convenient if it were downstairs? Everything in the office could fit into less than a third of the parlour."
"Grandad remodelled the house when I was just a little boy," I replied, "and I've no idea why he put the office upstairs. I guess I just accepted it as the way it's always been, but you're not the first person to suggest that the parlour could be better used. Actually, I seem to remember that Connor said much the same thing."
"Moving the office downstairs would also give you an extra bedroom," Sarah pointed out.
"Maybe I'll get around to it sometime," I said, "but we already have four bedrooms for three people, so having another bedroom isn't a top priority."
While we were still finishing off our mugs of tea, the children came downstairs and joined us in the kitchen. They were quite noisy, each trying to talk over the others, and even Mike was more talkative than usual. Conversation between us adults became more difficult, but the children all looked happy, so I didn't mind the noise.
"What time's lunch?" Connor said loudly. "I'm hungry."
The other kids quietened down and indicated their agreement.
"It won't be long," I said. "There's just enough time for you to show our visitors round the garden, Liam."
Sarah instructed the children to put on their jackets, and they all made their way out of the kitchen, leaving me, my godmother, and Connor.
"D'ya want any help?" he asked.
"Well, as you're offering," Aunt Anne said, "you can give Paul a hand while I lay the dining table."
"Ooh, that's posh!" he quipped. "Me and Liam haven't used that table before."
"Cheeky monkey!" she berated him while trying to suppress her laughter. "The kitchen table's too small for everyone to sit comfortably."
"But it'll be a hassle carrying stuff from here to the dining room," he complained.
"What do you think that's for?" she asked, pointing to the wall.
"It's a cupboard," he replied, rolling his eyes.
She went to the wall and slid aside the small door that was mounted there.
"It's a serving hatch," she said. "We can pass things through to the dining room."
By the time Liam and the guests had returned, we'd already started putting the food on the table, and we were soon sitting down to eat. When extended, the dining table was big enough for ten adults, so there was plenty of room for all of us. David and Sarah had brought a thick pad for their daughter to sit on. Thus, she was able to sit on one of our dining chairs and easily eat from a plate on the table.
Every time I saw Susie, I was amazed at how quickly she was growing and developing in her speech and other abilities. Now, once her mother had put small pieces of food on the toddler's plate, the little girl managed to use a spoon to get almost all the food into her mouth. The whole process may not have been elegant or pretty to watch, but it was quite amusing.
The meal wasn't formal and was more like an indoor picnic, with a variety of mainly cold dishes to choose from. Most of the talk at the beginning was related to requests to pass dishes and such practical matters. Once everyone had started eating, Liam speared a cherry tomato on his fork and held it up.
"Next year we're going to grow tomatoes and other stuff in the conservatory," he announced proudly.
"Who's 'we'?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Erm, us. Me, you, and Connor," the little boy responded, frowning.
"You're welcome to grow things in the conservatory," I said, "but it's not really my thing. Anyway, I have whatever's the opposite of a green thumb, and plants have a habit of dying when I go near them."
"I'll help you grow stuff, Liam," Connor said supportively.
"On the subject of growing things," David said, "Liam told me that you employ professional gardeners. Doesn't that take the fun out of having a garden?"
"My idea of fun in the garden is to enjoy the beauty of the plants and the outdoor space," I pointed out with a pretended aloofness. "Straining my back pulling out weeds and mowing lawns is not my idea of fun."
"Your gran would be sad to hear that," my godmother said sadly. "She loved that garden."
"I love the garden, too," I protested. "I just don't enjoy gardening, and Gran always knew that."
"I'm glad that someone has inherited her gardening skills," she said, smiling at Liam.
Eager to change the topic of conversation, I looked at Mike, who was close by but on the other side of the table.
"So how's the running going, Mike?" I asked. "Has your school organised anything yet?"
"There's nothing organised," he replied, looking up from his plate and apparently surprised that I'd addressed him directly, "but David talked to them, and now I can do running when the others play footie."
"They said as long as he doesn't mess around, does proper exercise, and stays on school grounds, he can run at school," David clarified.
"Maybe some other kids will join you when they see how much you enjoy it," I suggested to Mike.
"Maybe," he replied doubtfully, "but I enjoy it on my own."
Over the past couple of months, he appeared to have become healthier, and he'd put on a little weight. However, he was still thin, though now he was more wiry rather than skinny. I presumed that was at least partially related to his regular running, though it was probably also related to puberty. After all, he' d also grown noticeably taller since I'd first met him.
Sarah had brought a chocolate-orange cheesecake for dessert, and Connor presented us with a tray of fairy cakes.
"I made these," he announced proudly.
"Do you mean you helped Paul make them?" David asked a little pedantically.
"No," I said, "he did everything. He followed the recipe, and all I did was supervise him using the oven."
Everyone commented that the cakes he'd made were delicious, and Sarah suggested that maybe he'd like to help her bake sometime. He smiled proudly, and although her suggestion may have been only half serious, he quickly agreed. David offered to clear up after the meal, and I thanked him but declined, pointing out that Liam, Connor and I knew where everything went.
Aunt Anne, eager to find out more about the foster family, ushered the others into the living room. I hoped that she wouldn't start to interrogate them as she often did with me. Although Sarah and David might tolerate it, I wasn't sure how it would affect Mike and Katie. As it turned out, my godmother was just indulging in a general chat and wasn't even monopolising the conversation as much as usual. When my brothers and I joined the others, however, Mike and Katie appeared happy to see us and quickly approached us.
"Can we pick some apples now?" Mike asked, eager to escape from the adult conversation.
"Sure," I replied, then turning to the adults, I added, "Does anyone want to join us?"
As it turned out, everyone liked the idea of a little fruit-picking, so I gathered up some straw baskets, and we all went into the garden. Liam took the lead in telling everyone what was ripe and what wasn't, and with a couple of exceptions, he was always correct. It didn't take long to fill several baskets, and we returned to the kitchen feeling like conquerors loaded with booty.
Despite the fact that it had been only a short time since lunch, Sarah, David, and all the kids wanted to test the fruit. I chose some apples, pears and plums to wash and cut into bite-sized pieces for them. Everyone said they enjoyed what they tasted, and I split most of the rest of the fruit into two batches, one for Aunt Anne and the other for the foster family to take home.
While I was still doing that, Mike came over to me and asked, "What's in the sheds?"
At first I was surprised by the question that seemed to have come out of nowhere, but then I wondered if he was just looking for an excuse to go outside and escape the crowd.
"Why don't you go and see?" I replied and gave him an encouraging smile. Turning to Connor, I said, "Will you unlock the sheds so Mike can take a look?"
My brother frowned briefly, then nodded and left the kitchen, followed by all the other children, including Susie. Sarah reminded them to put on their coats, and as they left, Katie held the toddler's hand and gave a reassuring smile to Sarah. That reinforced my previous observations that the older girl had a close 'big sister' relationship with the toddler.
When I finished in the kitchen, I went outside to check up on the children and saw Katie sitting on Connor's bike. Her feet were on the ground, and she was pushing it gently backward and forward. Liam was holding his own bike so that Susie could examine it in detail, and I was pleased to see that he was keeping her away from the oily chain.
"Can I go for a ride on it?" Katie asked me.
Casting a questioning look at Connor, I saw him give a slight shrug of his shoulders and then nod his head, indicating that he didn't object.
"If David and Sarah say it's okay, and if you wear a helmet and stay in sight of the house, then that's fine," I said. "Liam, please go with her."
When I assured the foster carers that there was very little traffic on my street, they agreed to let Katie have a short ride. I stood at the front of the house with Connor, Sarah and her daughter, and we kept an eye on Liam and Katie as they rode around the house and up and down the street. Katie was a little unsteady at first but quickly showed that she could ride with some skill. When they'd had enough, they returned the bikes to the shed, where Mike was still exploring the sets of tools.
"D'ya want a go?" Connor asked Mike.
That took me by surprise, and I wondered if my brother was merely following my request to be nice or whether the two boys were actually becoming more friendly.
"No, thanks," the redhead replied, blushing and looking very embarrassed.
At first I thought that he was embarrassed by Connor's new friendliness, but then it occurred to me that with his background, he'd probably never learned to ride. It just didn't seem right to me that a teenage boy wouldn't know how to ride a bike and wouldn't have access to the freedom that would give. My first impulse was to offer to teach him, but then I realised that it wasn't really practical.
After putting the bikes away and locking the shed, we went inside, and I asked if anyone wanted anything to drink. Uncle Geoffrey arrived while tea was brewing, and he accepted Connor's offer of a fairy cake with his tea. That led to everyone else wanting a cake, dashing any hope of having some left for our evening meal.
With the exception of Susie, who was dozing next to her mother on the sofa, the children went into the conservatory with their cakes and drinks. When they'd finished, Liam came into the living room and stood next to where I was sitting.
"Katie and Mike want to know what camping's like," he said quietly.
"Did you tell them how much fun it is?" I asked.
"Yeah, but they want to know what it's like being in a tent. Can we put the tents up in the garden?"
Then I noticed that the other children were standing in the doorway and watching me and my little brother. It was clear that they wanted to know if I'd agree to the request, and I could guess the reason that Liam had been deputised to ask me. They knew that few people could resist the little boy when he had a pleading look in his beautiful eyes.
"Okay," I said, "let's go and get the tents from the basement."
Although we'd not used them for a few weeks, we'd taken great care to air them out properly before we'd put them away, and fortunately, there were no unpleasant smells when we unpacked them.
"Aren't you going to show us how to put them up?" Mike asked as I turned to go back indoors.
"Connor and Liam have done it enough times now to be able to do it on their own," I said. "I officially appoint Connor as team leader to coordinate putting up the tents."
He gave me a big grin and looked as if he'd received an award.
"You can always come and ask me if you want any help," I whispered in his ear as I went back into the house.
There wasn't really a lot of preparation required for the evening meal because Aunt Anne had brought a huge dish of moussaka, and I'd already made a lasagne as well as a chicken-tomato pasta bake. Those three dishes just needed to be heated up in the oven while salads were being prepared. My godmother gave me a hand, and the other adults came and sat at the kitchen table, just to be sociable.
Although I wasn't keen on the idea of preparing food with an audience in a crowded kitchen, I didn't comment. However, the conversations were a little distracting, and that increased the preparation time by a few minutes. Finally, while I was slicing the homemade bread and my godparents were setting the dining room table, David went out and told the children that food was ready.
With everyone sitting at the table, I pointed out that there was no garlic in the chicken dish. In doing so, I made sure that I didn't mention Mike and only gave him a brief sidelong glance. Although there'd been no planned seating arrangements, the children sat at one end of the table and the adults at the other, except for Susie, who sat between her parents.
"Did you have fun setting up the tents?" I asked Mike.
"Yeah," he replied enthusiastically, "it was easier than I thought."
"That's because Connor's a good team leader," Liam commented loyally.
"So you won't be needing me any more," I said, pretending to be a little sad.
"Maybe not for tents," Connor responded and grinned, realising that I was only joking, "but I s'pose you'll still be useful for other stuff."
"Sitting in the tents was fun," Katie said, "but I don't think I could sleep in one. And in the countryside it'd be scary."
"I wouldn't be scared," Mike commented boastfully. "I'd like to go camping in the countryside."
Dessert was a cherry pie contributed by Sarah and a trifle produced by me and Connor. Soon after we finished eating, our guests thanked us profusely and started getting ready to leave. David explained that by the time they got home, it would be time for Susie to have her bath and go to bed. I could see for myself that the little girl was getting tired and fussy, so I understood why they wanted to leave so soon.
My godparents and my brothers all helped me to clear up, and the task was completed very quickly and easily. Then Uncle Geoffrey announced that they, too, were going home, and I suspected that he was keen to get back to the peace and quiet of his own house and that he was probably looking forward to a gin and tonic or a glass of wine. After they'd gone, it was almost dark, and my brothers and I took down the tents and hung them up in the conservatory to air out overnight.
"Phew!" Connor exclaimed as we relaxed in the living room. "Having visitors is fun, but it's hard work."
"Yes," I agreed, "it's good to have our house back to ourselves again."
"Our house," Liam said, emphasising the word 'our'.
The next morning, I took my brothers back to the foster home and stayed for Sunday lunch. The whole day was cold and very wet, so Mike didn't bother asking me to go running with him.
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