Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 20
As expected, the first couple of weeks in February were very hectic. Helping Connor to prepare for the entrance exam was more about psychology than it was about tutoring, and my main task was to provide emotional support and encouragement. Despite my reassurances, his big concern was that he might fail, and if he did, then he certainly didn't want anyone else, especially Mike or Katie, to know about it.
The candidates for the exam were split into a morning batch and an afternoon batch, and my brother was in the afternoon group. There was no way that I could get him home after the exam before the other children returned from school, so we had to devise an explanation that avoided lying and also avoided mentioning the exam. Therefore, we simply told Mike and Katie that Connor had been visiting a proposed new school.
When I drove him to the exam, I reminded him of the basic techniques that applied to pretty much every exam situation. He put on a brave face, pretending that he wasn't at all worried. When I collected him afterwards, I asked him how he felt it had gone, and he told me that he didn't want to talk about it. As the results would be out in less than a month, I decided that there was no point in pressing the matter.
The day after the exam was also the last day of school before my brothers started their mid-term break, during which they stayed with me for a week. Apart from a couple of bike rides and a trip into the city centre, the three of us just relaxed around the house and garden. At their request, we went to the memorial garden one afternoon, and we stopped at a very nice cafe on the way home.
Uncle Geoffrey and Stephane both had their birthdays early in the week of the half-term holiday, and on the evening of my godfather's birthday, my brothers and I went round for a meal. As we'd done for Aunt Anne's birthday in January, we each gave separate cards, which, in the case of the boys, were homemade.
I'd already posted a birthday card to Stephane, and on the night of his birthday, I called him after my brothers had gone to bed. After I'd wished him a happy birthday and we'd exchanged our various bits of news, we discussed his proposed visit.
"If it's okay with you," he said, "I thought that I'd come up on a Monday and return the following Monday. Allowing for changing trains in London, it should take just over five hours for me to get from here to Linchester."
"That's fine with me," I said, "but personally, I'd rather drive. Even if it might take a bit longer, I'm not sure I'd want to spend five hours on trains."
"That's because you're a snob and don't like public transport," he teased. "And anyway, I don't have a car."
"I'm not a snob," I protested with good humour. "Sometimes I use public transport. Actually, it's not that long since I went on a plane."
"And when was the last time you went anywhere by bus?" he asked.
"I sometimes used to go to school by bus."
"More than three years ago, then," he said triumphantly.
"But that doesn't mean I'm a snob. It just shows I like comfort, convenience and privacy."
"Whatever," he replied dismissively.
"So let's see," I said, feeling a little put out, "at various times you've accused me of being cold and aloof, and now you say I'm a snob. Yet you're prepared to spend more than five hours on public transport to come for a visit."
"Anyway," he said, completely ignoring my point, "is a week on Monday too soon?"
"Erm, no. That's fine," I replied, taken aback by the shift in the conversation as well as the relatively short notice. "Once you've checked timetables, you can let me know when you're arriving so I can meet you at the station."
"Oh, I already checked the timetable," he said blithely, "and the train should arrive at Linchester station at fifteen twenty. If that's okay with you, I can book online tonight."
"Right, well, that's okay then. You can let me know when you've confirmed the booking."
Even before I'd finished speaking, he was staring intently at his screen and tapping on his keyboard. After just a few seconds, he looked up at the camera and smiled.
"No need for a text," he said, "it's already confirmed."
"That was fast."
"Yeah, well, I had it on screen and all set up ready to go, just in case you agreed," he said proudly, then his smile faded and he frowned uncertainly. "Is that okay? I mean, of course I'm keen to see you again, but I don't want to seem pushy."
"I said it was fast, but I didn't mean too fast. Actually, I guess it's kind of flattering that you should be so eager to spend five hours on trains just to visit me."
He didn't respond in words but merely smiled, shrugged his shoulders and blushed slightly.
"What's your favourite cake?" I asked, wishing to change the subject and avoid potential further embarrassment.
"Ah, I don't know… I like all sorts of cake… any cake."
"But if you had to choose one for your birthday or another special day?"
"Mmmm, probably red velvet cake."
"Great," I enthused. "That was one of Gran's favourite recipes."
The day that Stephane planned to arrive turned out to be the first day back at school after the half-term holiday. That meant I needed to start making preparations while my brothers were still staying with me. The first thing on my list was to check the spare bedroom, which hadn't been used for a long time. It was a bit cluttered and dusty, and I thought that it was possible that I might need to buy a new bed.
On the day after making the arrangements with Stephane, the boys were still in bed when I got up. Before making breakfast, I decided to inspect the spare bedroom. I'd stripped off the covers and was sitting on the bed bouncing gently when Connor, still wearing his sleeping clothes, appeared in the doorway.
"What're you doing?"
"Good morning to you, too," I chided gently. "I'm seeing what needs to be done to get the bedroom ready for a visitor."
"Who's visiting? When?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Stephane. The Monday you go back to school," I replied. "Where's Liam?"
"He wanted to use the bathroom first cos he says I take too long. But I'm dying for a pee, so I came to ask if I could use yours."
"Of course. Go ahead," I said. "You can always use it when I'm not in there."
He disappeared from view, and I went downstairs to start preparing breakfast. A few minutes later, both boys came into the kitchen, and before asking about food as they usually did, Liam asked about the planned visit.
"Connor said that your friend's coming to visit. How long will he be here?"
"A week. He'll arrive on a Monday and go back the following Monday."
"So he'll be here for a weekend," Connor said.
"What about us?" his little brother asked, frowning. "Can we still come here?"
From the way that the boys were speaking, it was clear that they'd already discussed this and that it was giving them cause for concern.
"Of course you can," I reassured him. "It will be a normal weekend but just with an extra person."
"Suppose he doesn't like us?" Liam asked.
"I'm absolutely sure he will," I said, a little surprised by the question. "He saw you on that video chat when I was at uni, and I told him what great people you are, so he already likes you. But in the extremely unlikely event that he doesn't like you, then that's his problem."
"Isn't he a special friend?" Connor asked, apparently not totally reassured.
"No matter how special a friend might be," I replied, sidestepping the question, "they'd never be as important to me as my brothers."
Both boys smiled, Liam gave me a hug, and then we got into our usual breakfast routine.
The end of the half-term holiday marked the resumption of our usual Sunday routine, and I took the boys back to the foster home in time for lunch. Unless I'd told them otherwise, Sarah and David would expect me to accept their standing invitation to lunch and to provide dessert. Often, I would also spend the afternoon there, and if the weather was fine, I'd spend time outdoors with any of the children who wanted to go with me.
Before we set off that morning, I got a call from Sarah saying that as it was a sunny day, Mike had asked if I'd take him to Lytton Dell in the afternoon. While my brothers were staying with me, I'd not had an opportunity for a good run, so I agreed and put my running gear in the car. When I informed Connor and Liam of my intentions for the afternoon, they insisted that they'd like to go along.
At the foster home, I noticed that Mike and Connor appeared to be on quite friendly terms and that the redhead joined with Katie in exchanging tales of their holiday break with my brothers. After lunch, I mentioned this observation to David when he and I happened to find ourselves temporarily alone in the kitchen.
"Yes, that's certainly a big improvement, but sometimes I get the feeling they're more like co-conspirators than friends," he said wryly.
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, sometimes they talk quietly together when they think that no one can overhear them."
"What about Liam? They don't exclude him, do they?"
"No, there's no need to be concerned about that. He's usually busy with his keyboard or doing other things, but when he does join them, they let him join in, too."
Later, after our lunch had settled, Mike asked me if I was ready to go for a run.
"Yes, I'm definitely ready," I replied, "but I need a good run, not just a coaching session. If you want to try to keep up with me, that's fine, but don't push yourself too hard. It's equally fine if you just go along at your own pace."
Katie decided that although it was sunny, she didn't want to go out in the cold, and in any case, she was expecting a phone call from her mother. Connor didn't feel like running, so he just explored the Dell with his little brother, but whenever I caught sight of him, he often seemed to be watching me. Mike, whose growth spurt was proceeding apace, initially tried to keep up with me, but he dropped back after a few minutes.
When I took the children home, I declined Sarah's offer to use their shower and stay for tea, telling her that I still had a few last-minute preparations to make for Stephane's visit. Unusually for me, I found it quite difficult to fall asleep that night. Of course it was understandable that I was eager and even a little excited at the prospect of seeing Stephane in person again. However, what I didn't understand was why I was also quite nervous.
On the morning of Stephane's arrival, I made the red velvet cake and quickly checked that the house was clean and tidy. After a light lunch, I started putting the cream cheese-based filling and frosting on the cake, and I was still doing that when Mrs T arrived.
"Weren't your brothers here this weekend?" she asked after she'd had a quick look around. "There doesn't seem much for me to do."
"Yes, they were here, but I've done a bit of tidying because I'm having a visitor. But I've not done any dusting or hoovering downstairs."
After I went on to tell her about the visit and how long he'd be staying, she smiled, nodded her head and got on with her work. Then I went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed, and by the time I'd decided what to wear, it was time to go and collect Stephane from the station. It took me less time than I expected to park the Golf, so I was waiting at the station entrance for a few minutes before I saw him.
He was wearing loose blue jeans and a denim jacket over a black sweatshirt, and he was carrying a large black holdall. I waved to him, and when he saw me, his face lit up with a huge smile. He headed toward me, gracefully avoiding anyone who passed between us, and we greeted each other with a swift 'Hi'. He looked in my eyes, blushed slightly and gave the impression he wasn't sure what to do next.
"How was the trip?" I asked, reaching to take his holdall.
"Fine," he replied, looking a little embarrassed. "You don't need to carry my bag."
"I don't need to, but I'd like to. My gran taught me that it's the polite thing to do," I replied, wondering why he seemed uncomfortable.
"Okay, but it's a bit heavy," he said.
"Are you implying that I'm a weakling?" I joked.
Before he could respond, I set off toward the car park, with him quickly following until he caught up with me. Apart from a few polite trivialities, there wasn't much conversation as we drove to my house. Based on our shared history and the fact that our recent video chats had gone so well, it felt odd to me that neither of us seemed completely at ease.
Because I didn't think we'd be going out again later, I drove directly to the garage and used the remote control to open the door. As we drove inside, he appeared to pay particular attention to the fact that there was already another car parked there.
"Why do you need two cars?"
"Grandad loved the Merc, and so do I, so I suppose it's mainly for sentimental reasons. But it is a bit big, and sometimes the Golf is more practical," I replied. Then I smiled and added, "And my brothers prefer riding in the Merc."
I led him round to the front of the house and opened the door as he stood back, looking up at the facade. Going inside, I saw that the alarm was off, so I knew that Mr T was still in the house. As he followed me through the doorways, I put his bag under the stairs and bent down to take off my shoes and put on slippers.
"Shall I take off my trainers?" Stephane asked.
"Oh, erm, no. Visitors don't need to, but if you'd feel more comfortable, I can probably find you some slippers. I think one of my spare pairs may fit you."
Opening the small cupboard under the stairs, I took out an unworn pair of slippers and handed them to my guest. While he was putting them on, Mrs T came into the hallway from the utility room, and I introduced them.
"We're going to have some tea and cake," I said to her. "Will you join us?"
"No thanks, I've still got a couple of things to do before I have to go."
"In that case," I said, "I'll put a couple of slices in a box for you to take home."
"That's very sweet of you," she said with a smile. Turning to my visitor, she added, "Paul's such a gentleman."
"Mrs T," I said, blushing, "you make it seem like I'm an old man!"
"Like your gran used to say, you have an old soul," she replied.
She told Stephane that she hoped he'd have an enjoyable stay, and then she went into the laundry room.
"Shall we have some cake and tea before I show you around the house?" I asked Stephane.
Looking slightly bemused, he nodded and followed me into the kitchen. While we waited for the kettle to boil, I put plates and cutlery on the table, and Stephane looked around the room.
"It's a big kitchen and a big house," he commented. "It's no wonder you need to hire a cleaner."
"Mrs T's more like a member of the family," I pointed out as I took the cake from a cupboard. As I put it on the table, I announced proudly, "Red velvet cake, as requested."
"I didn't really request it," he corrected me. "You asked what my favourite was."
"Baking a cake for visitors is our tradition, and when possible it should be the guest's favourite."
"Personally, I'm not a huge follower of traditions," he said with a smile, "but I approve of this one."
When we sat at the table and he tasted the cake, he was very complimentary, and it seemed he could hardly believe that I'd made it just for him.
"You're certainly a man of many talents," he said with an expression that made me wonder if there was a double meaning.
Whatever tension there might have been when I picked him up from the station, and whatever the cause of that tension, it quickly faded away. By the time Mrs T had come to say goodbye and I'd handed her the box with a generous segment of the cake, Stephane and I were just as relaxed as we'd previously been when we shared the flat.
After clearing the kitchen table, I took him on a tour of the house, starting with the ground floor. By that time, it was getting dark outside, so I told him that I'd wait until the following day to show him the garden. Then I picked up his holdall, and we went upstairs. Before continuing the tour, I put his bag in his bedroom. Then I noticed that he didn't seem particularly happy.
"Is there something wrong with the room?" I asked, looking around to see if I'd missed something.
"No," he replied quickly, blushing slightly and smiling wanly. "It's a lovely room. Bigger than the one I have at home."
I continued with the tour, and when we reached the bathroom, he looked pleasantly surprised.
"You have a bidet," he said. "It's different from the one we have at home, but yours is the only house I've visited in England that has one."
"When Connor saw the one that was in the en suite, he asked for one to be fitted in their bathroom." Realising that I hadn't yet shown him my bedroom, I explained, "When my grandparents set up the master bedroom, they included an en suite bathroom. Here, I'll show you."
He was impressed not only by the bathroom but also with the walk-in closet, which he said was bigger than most bedrooms he'd slept in.
"Your bedroom's so huge," he commented, "that it makes your bed seem rather small."
"It's a standard double bed," I pointed out. "In fact, it's the one I had in my bedroom before I moved into the master suite."
"And it's bigger than the beds we had in our flat," he said with a little smile.
The last thing I showed him before returning downstairs was the office.
"You know…" he began.
"Yes," I said and gave a theatrical sigh. "If I moved the office downstairs, there'd be an extra bedroom."
He looked a little taken aback and maybe even slightly spooked.
"No, I can't read your mind," I added. "It's just that it seems to be a pretty standard comment that people have when they see the office."
"That's because it's a pretty obvious suggestion and a good idea. So why don't you do it?"
"Inertia, I guess," I replied with a small shrug. "It's not top of my list of things to do."
"I'd be happy to give you a hand with it while I'm here," he offered. "At least then you won't have to put up with visitors keeping on making the same comment."
Back downstairs, he told me that he was going to call his mum to let her know that he'd arrived and that everything was okay. As I knew she had a job, I asked if she'd be home already, and he told me that she was a primary school teacher, so he expected her to have gotten home by that time.
I started to move away to give him some privacy, but he touched my arm and asked me to stay. He informed his mother that he was fine, that the train journey had gone smoothly, and that he'd arrived on time. After that, all I heard was him saying 'yes' several times in various tones, interspersed with a 'no' and a 'fine' and ending with 'okay'.
"Mum wants to say hello," he said, raising his eyebrows and holding out the phone.
I'd met his parents only a couple of times very briefly, and the only words we'd exchanged were greetings. In fact, the only thing I could remember about them was that they both had dark hair and that Mr Vernon was considerably taller than his wife. Therefore, I was surprised that she wanted to speak with me.
"Hello, Mrs Vernon ," I greeted her.
"Hello, Paul," she replied in a cultured Southern English voice that had not even a hint of a French accent. "I just wanted to say thank you for inviting Stephane to visit you. He really needed cheering up, and your invitation really did the trick. I know what close friends you were at university, and I'm glad you kept in touch."
What she said didn't seem to be a totally accurate representation of my own understanding of the situation. However, I guessed that parents often get only partial information from their children, and they tend to interpolate and produce their own interpretations.
"There's no need to thank me," I said. "It's great to see him again, and I've really been looking forward to his visit."
"Stephane was certainly looking forward to it," she said. "He not only got his hair cut, but he also bought some new clothes. Well, I'd better say goodbye to my son and let you boys get back to enjoying the visit. Bye!"
I handed the phone back to Stephane, who listened to his mother for a few seconds, then said 'Bye', and hung up. We sat on the sofa while I showed him how to access Sky and Netflix on the TV. As he went through the menus to see what was available, I asked what sort of things he wanted to see and do during his visit, and I made a few suggestions. I also informed him that my godparents had invited us to have dinner with them on the Thursday evening.
"You told them I was coming?" he asked, looking startled and a little concerned.
"Well, it is quite newsworthy. After all, apart from my brothers, you're the first overnight visitor I've had since Mai Li, which also makes you only the second person ever from uni to visit me. Anyway, if I hadn't told them, I'm sure either Liam or Connor would've."
While I was reassuring him that my godparents didn't bite and were very good hosts, there was a notification of a video call on my laptop.
"Hi, brothers. You're earlier than usual," I said when I saw Liam and Connor on the screen.
"We just finished tea and don't have any homework," the older boy replied.
"And we wanted to see if Stephane had arrived," his little brother added.
"Yes, he's here," I said, turning the laptop so that they could see him.
"Hello, Connor and Liam," Stephane greeted them with a smile and a wave of his hand.
"Hi," both boys replied in unison.
"Did you like the cake?" Connor asked.
"Yes, it's delicious," Stephane replied enthusiastically. "Red velvet is my favourite."
"Paul's made lots of cakes for us," the older boy said as if it were a competition, "but he's never made that sort of cake."
"That's because you never asked for it," I pointed out, moving to sit closer to my guest so that my brothers could see both of us on their screen.
"We couldn't ask for it cos we never heard of it," Connor replied, rolling his eyes.
"Okay, I'll make one and bring it for tea on Friday so everyone there can try it."
"You're coming for tea?" Liam asked, looking a little concerned, "I thought you were picking us up for the weekend."
"I am," I reassured him, "but we can have tea there and then bring you here. That way, David and Sarah can meet Stephane, and he can see where you live."
"Okay," the little boy said, relieved.
There ensued a long four-way conversation, much of which Stephane must have felt was a little like being interrogated. When I tried to bring the conversation around to other things, such as their first day back at school, the boys responded briefly and then quickly dismissed the topic. The call ended at around seven o'clock when I pointed out that it was time for me and Stephane to start thinking about our evening meal.
"Phew," my guest said after the call ended. "They're great kids, and I really enjoyed talking with them, but after that I feel quite exhausted."
"Don't worry," I soothed, "once they get to know you and get used to you, they won't bombard you with so many questions."
"I really don't mind. In fact, it was fun and reminded me why I want to become a teacher."
"Anyway," I said after a brief pause, "I'm starting to feel a bit hungry. There's not really time to make a proper meal, but there are lots of quick snack-type things I can put together."
"It's been a big day," he said thoughtfully, "so why not have something quick and relaxing? We could just order something to be delivered."
"Okay," I replied, grateful for an easing of my hostly duties, "what do you fancy?"
"Erm, do you fancy pizza?" he said, looking me squarely in the eye and giving a little smile.
At first I didn't understand why he mentioned pizza as if it was something significant. Then I remembered the previous times, and especially the last time, we had pizza together.
"That sounds good," I replied, returning his smile. "Maybe with some beer?"
We looked into each other's eyes and knew we both wanted the same thing.
Neither of us got a lot of sleep that night, and in the morning it was almost ten o'clock by the time I woke up. Stephane was already awake, propped up on his elbow and looking down at me.
"Good morning," he said, looking very amused. "Your tummy's rumbling."
"That's because I'm hungry. It's probably what woke me up," I replied. "Oh, and good morning to you, too."
"Are you always a bit grumpy in the morning?"
"I'm not grumpy," I protested. "I'm just hungry and not quite myself until I've had my breakfast tea. Speaking of which, I need a shower before I make our breakfast."
"That's a huge shower you've got," he said, and with a pretended innocence, he added, "You know, I've never had a shower with anyone before."
"Neither have I. Well, except at school, but that's not quite what you meant, is it?"
"Possibly not," he replied with a lewd smile.
As it turned out, our only interaction in the shower was to wash each other's backs, so it didn't take long for us to go down for breakfast.
"You know," he said as we sat down to eat, "I was wondering why you bothered to get a bedroom made up for me when, well…"
"I didn't know if you'd want to sleep with me, and it would've been wrong of me to presume that you did. Providing you with your own room meant you wouldn't feel any pressure."
"If you thought I came all this way to remain celibate, then you don't know me very well."
"Ah, so you travelled so far just so you could have your wicked way with my body," I said archly.
"Of course not, but that was certainly an added incentive."
"Also," I continued, "even if we shared a bed, it's still good to have your own room, your own personal space, in a strange house. And another thing, my brothers will be sleeping here on Friday and Saturday nights, so you'll need to have your own bedroom then."
"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked sadly.
"Of course not! I'm very happy for my brothers to get to know you. But for them to know we share a bed and have sex, well, that's too much for them just yet. They're still only little kids."
"Okay, I understand."
After breakfast, we went into the garden, and as we passed the conservatory, he pointed out that in daylight it looked very bare.
"You sound like Liam," I said with a fond smile. "He's inherited Gran's green fingers, and he's got big plans for the conservatory, including tomatoes and other food plants."
When I pointed out the fruit trees, he was almost as happy and excited as Liam had been when he'd first seen them. Like Liam, one of Stephane's first questions was when they would produce fruit. On seeing the inside of the bike shed, he told me with a hint of regret that he hadn't ridden a bike since before he went to university and that the bike he'd had as a teenager had been given to a younger cousin.
Because we'd had a late breakfast, we decided to skip lunch and have an early dinner, so I asked him what he wanted to do for the rest of the day.
"We could move your office," he suggested brightly.
"You can't seriously want to do that, can you? After coming all this way to see me, it's my duty to look after my guest, not use you as manual labour."
"A little exercise will be good for me, and I want to be useful," he said. "And be honest, how long will it take you to get over your inertia if I don't give you a little push?"
"Okay, if you really want to," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
It took about an hour merely to dismantle and disconnect everything in the office and make space by the side window in the parlour. Then the rest of the afternoon was spent moving things downstairs. The desk and filing cabinets required the greatest effort, and before the latter could be moved, we had to remove all the drawers.
We refreshed ourselves with beers while I made our evening meal of a tuna and pasta bake with a side salad. For dessert we had some of the remaining red velvet cake, washed down with coffee. Then Stephane helped me to reassemble the office contents in the parlour. While we were still doing that, my brothers called, and it took me a while to get to my laptop in the living room.
"Why'd it take you so long to answer?" Connor asked, frowning.
"We've been moving the office down to the parlour," I replied, "and we're still setting everything up."
"Me and Liam could've helped if we'd been there."
"There was a lot of heavy stuff, like the desk and filing cabinets," I pointed out. "You're big and strong for your age, but it needed someone even bigger and stronger than you. Anyway, what have you and Liam been up to?"
"School, of course," he replied, rolling his eyes at what he clearly considered to be a rather stupid question.
"And I've been practising chords on my keyboard," Liam said, eager to smooth out any possible negative feelings between his brothers.
"Oh, you're a musician then," Stephane said as he sat beside me on the sofa.
"I'm just learning," the little boy replied.
"But you're already a brilliant singer," I said as I adjusted the laptop so that Stephane and I were both in the camera's view.
"Yeah," agreed the older boy, putting his arm over his little brother's shoulder.
"Liam," I said, "Stephane agrees with you that the conservatory is too bare."
"Do you like gardening?" Liam asked him.
"Yes, but I don't have much opportunity. My parents' garden is tiny, and in any case I was too busy working in France over the summer."
"You can help me in Paul's garden," the little boy said generously.
My brothers went on to ask Stephane a whole host of questions about what he did over the summer in France, and when they'd exhausted that topic, Connor asked me about what my visitor and I would be doing during the next few days. I gave him a list of possibilities that we'd discussed but said we had no definite plans apart from dinner with my godparents on Thursday.
"You never told me about that," Connor said as if I'd been deliberately keeping it secret.
"You never asked about our plans until now," I patiently pointed out.
"We have a really important footie match tomorrow afternoon," he said after a brief pause. "It's a trophy game against Saint Benedict's. Parents can come."
"You never mentioned it before," I said.
"You're not really very interested in footie, and I thought you'd be busy, 'specially with a visitor. Anyway, David's going to be there."
"Can I come, too?" Stephane asked before I had time to respond. "Football's one of my favourite sports. I used to play a lot at school, and I was in the school team."
"Erm, yeah, okay," Connor replied, obviously taken aback by that unexpected response. "If Paul's coming, you can come as well."
After the call ended, I turned to Stephane.
"I didn't know you were keen on football," I said, raising my eyebrows.
"You never asked," he said with a wry smile, "and I never brought up the subject because I knew it wouldn't interest you. Anyway, let's finish setting up the office."
"Okay, then I want a shower. All that work's made me all hot and sticky."
"Me, too. We can shower together," he said.
This time, our contact in the shower was not limited to a mutual washing of backs, and we quickly dried ourselves and climbed onto my bed.
The next day, having already set our schedules for that afternoon, we decided to spend the morning in the city centre, where we had lunch. Then we went directly to watch Connor's game. David was already there when we arrived, but there were only a dozen or so other spectators, possibly because most parents would be at work on a midweek afternoon.
Stephane and David cheered on my brother's team with enthusiasm, but my slightly embarrassed shouts of encouragement were more muted. Our team won by three goals to two, and although Connor didn't score, he made a decent contribution to the team effort. Before going inside to change out of his kit, he came over to thank us for coming and supporting his team.
His pride at winning was boosted when Stephane, David and I all told him that he'd played well. Then he asked whether he'd be getting a ride home with me or with David, who explained that if I took the boys, it meant not only waiting for Connor to change but also for Liam to finish classes. Realising that David's time was probably more limited than mine, I volunteered.
When we arrived at the foster home, Mike and Katie were just riding their bikes up the driveway. They stopped by the side of the house and waved to us, and then they wheeled their bikes toward the garage at the far end of the drive. Stephane and I followed my brothers inside to say hello to Sarah and David. They invited us to stay for tea, but I declined, saying that we already had plans.
"What plans?" Stephane asked me as soon as we got back into the car. "I don't remember us discussing plans for tonight."
When I'd given my excuse to David and Sarah, I'd expected that Stephane would assume that it was just a little white lie. So his question took me a little by surprise, and I wasn't sure how to respond. My long silence increased his curiosity, but still he waited patiently. Eventually, I decided on complete honesty.
"Actually, it's a bit embarrassing," I said, "but after all day being out and about in public, I just wanted a quiet evening with you all to myself."
I started the engine and drove down the drive, and he didn't speak until we turned into the street.
"You shouldn't be embarrassed," he said quietly, briefly putting his hand on my thigh. "It's how I feel as well."
After a few seconds of silence, he added, "To be honest, it's not the sort of thing I expected you to feel, and if you did, I'd never have thought you'd say it. I'm pretty certain that the Paul I knew at uni would never have said it."
I thought about what he'd said for a while, and I debated with myself about whether or not I should reply at all.
"I don't know if I've changed, or maybe it's just that now you see me differently. If I have changed, it's probably because of my brothers," I said. Attempting to lighten the mood, I joked, "Or maybe sitting in a car in the dark is a bit like being in the confessional."
"Maybe we should talk in the car more often," he replied.
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