Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 22
Lunch at the hotel with my godparents was very enjoyable, and Aunt Anne concentrated most of her attention on the boys. The food was excellent, and only Liam opted to order from the children's menu. Connor's order from the standard menu didn't overwhelm him, and he ate at least as much as Uncle Geoffrey.
The only surprise for me during the meal was that my godparents said that Stephane could address them as Geoffrey and Anne rather than Mr and Mrs Walker. Aunt Anne said it would feel odd if he were the only one at the table not using their first names. I felt that either they'd taken a special liking to my visitor or that they were becoming less formal as they grew older.
On the drive home, I had another surprise when Liam started singing happy tunes. That showed not only his good spirits but also that he probably felt comfortable with Stephane. On hearing the beautiful voice, Stephane began to turn his head toward my brothers, but I touched his thigh and shook my head. Fortunately, he understood my intention and didn't look at the singing boy.
Liam fell silent as we approached the house, and when we got out of the car, Stephane told Liam that he had a really beautiful voice. Liam blushed deeply and smiled at the compliment, then quickly looked away. When we got indoors, the boys went upstairs, and I explained to my guest that Liam's private singing was a spontaneous expression of his feelings and that he was embarrassed when people watched it.
Connor and I spent most of the rest of the afternoon happily baking in the kitchen. Both of us found it relaxing and absorbing, and there was little conversation apart from communications related to what we were doing. Meanwhile, Liam had decided how he wanted to plant up the conservatory and came to me with his drawings.
"That looks fine," I said, "but remember I'm hopeless with plants, so if you choose any that need lots of care, it'll be your responsibility to keep them alive."
Then he went off with Stephane to go online and find where the plants could be sourced.
When we arrived at the foster home for Sunday lunch and handed over the cakes and trifle, David asked me to go with him into the office.
"Have you had any ideas about enforcing parental controls on Mike's laptop?" he asked.
"Yes, but you won't find them very helpful. Basically, if he's clever and determined, he can always get around them. In fact, if he'd been more careful, he could've done it without leaving anything for you to find. Maybe you could restrict his access by changing settings on your router firewall, but that would be a hassle if you're not very technical."
"Which I'm not," he said.
"Even if you were, there would always be the possibility that he could connect to the internet somewhere else."
"So you can't recommend anything?"
"I think that you were right when you said the only solution is personal, not technical," I replied. "He needs to be persuaded not to access certain types of things, but he's a teenage boy, so I'm not sure how you'd do that. Alternatively, you could confiscate the laptop permanently and allow him internet access only when supervised."
"I wonder if you think I'm overreacting," he said, frowning slightly. "If it had just been a couple of items of soft porn, I wouldn't have been so concerned and would've probably just told him off. As it is, I've had to make a report to Social Services."
"Oh, I see. Sorry. I didn't properly understand, but isn't that a bit, erm, over the top?"
"Some of the files had, erm, extreme content, and the rules left me with no choice," he said sadly. "Anyway, I'm going to consult with his counsellor tomorrow and work out a course of action. For the time being, I'll consider making the confiscation permanent. I've told him that I'm going to erase the whole drive and that he needs to let me know what he wants to keep. So far he hasn't done that."
"I guess he's still grounded, then?"
"Yes, but of course that can't continue for too long, and I honestly worry that to him, it may feel like when he was shut in his room all the time when he was a small child."
"But I'm sure you've explained to him that this situation is completely different."
"I've tried and tried, but he refuses to listen to anything about the laptop and won't speak at all except for necessary things like food."
"I do hope the counsellor can help because it seems like it's a problem for professionals," I said, then had another thought. "You mentioned that the counsellor is a woman. Bearing in mind the nature of the problem, maybe he'd find it easier to discuss things with a male counsellor?"
"If one was available, it might be worth considering, but he always seemed to have a good relationship with his current counsellor. They were making good progress until last summer and…"
"Puberty," I said.
"Yes."
"I appreciate that this isn't my business, but a thought occurred to me," I said tentatively. "Was it hard to find the files you found?"
"Not very hard."
"It seems to me that Mike is smart enough to have made them very hard to find, especially if he'd kept them on a flash drive."
"So?"
"So maybe he was just careless. But maybe he wanted them to be found?" I suggested.
"You mean it was like a cry for help?" he asked doubtfully. "But if so, why won't he talk about it now?"
"I've no idea. Maybe a psychologist would know," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
Lunch was excellent as usual, though it felt more subdued in the absence of Mike. That seemed odd when I considered it. After all, he was usually the sombre one, and even at his best he could never have been described as the life and soul of the party. Surely, I thought, the absence of a sombre person should have raised the mood, not lowered it.
When it came time to leave, Connor gave me a particularly long and tight hug, which surprised me a little. He'd always been less affectionate with me than his little brother, and over the previous couple of months, he'd become more reserved. Thus, the hug appeared to be a reversal of that trend.
Another thing of note was that although neither of my brothers gave Stephane a goodbye hug, they did say they'd enjoyed meeting him and that they hoped to see him again soon. On the drive back, I asked how Stephane wanted to spend the evening. Of course, it was just teasing because we both knew what we wanted to do. However, he played along with the game.
"I've been feeling very stiff all day," he said, trying and failing to put on a deadpan attitude.
"I thought your muscles would've recovered from the run by now," I said innocently.
"Yeah, well, I'm sure I'll feel better after a massage… preferably with oil."
Because he would be taking an early train in the morning, we decided he should pack his bags before we started the evening's entertainments.
Of course, the next morning neither of us was very happy, and Stephane would eat only a slice of toast for his breakfast. I tried to cheer us both up by pointing out that our parting was temporary. If all went to plan, he'd be back again soon, so we wouldn't be apart for very long. I was touched when he stated with absolute certainty that even just a week would be too long.
As soon as I got back from dropping him off at the railway station, I called Rose and told her about Stephane wanting to move to Linchester. She was sympathetic but said it wasn't really just up to her when the boys were out of her area. She advised me to contact Charles and said that she'd go along with whatever he advised.
It was mid-afternoon by the time I got to speak with Charles, who of course already knew about the ongoing adoption proceedings. I told him that Stephane was a flatmate at university and that we'd been friends for years. I explained that he intended to do a PGCE in Linchester and get a job here until the course started. As I had a large house in the suburbs of the city where he would be living, it made sense for him to stay with me.
"You certainly have enough space for a lodger," Charles said, "and it seems that you know him well, but the most important thing to consider is the wellbeing of your brothers, especially if the adoption application succeeds."
"I completely agree," I replied earnestly. "As you know, Liam and Connor spend weekends and holidays with me, and last weekend, with the permission of their foster carers, they were here while Stephane was visiting, and he and my brothers got on very well together."
"Just one weekend isn't really a good test of how well people get along," he said.
"He'll be coming for another visit soon, so they'll have another opportunity to spend time with him," I said. "But if there was any possibility that in future they didn't get on well, then of course my brothers are my priority, so Stephane could no longer stay with me when they're visiting."
"And what about if the boys come to live with you permanently?"
"By then there will have been plenty of time to see how well my brothers get along with him."
"Presumably the foster carers put down some conditions regarding last weekend?"
"Yes, they said they had to meet Stephane first and that he wasn't to be allowed to be alone with them for more than a short time."
"Good," he said approvingly. "As your friend would have to go through background checks to become a teacher, presumably he wouldn't object to one now. Also, I 'd need to meet him and interview him in person. You can ask him to email me so we can make arrangements, and then I can send him appropriate forms."
"That's great. Thanks."
"In the meantime," Charles continued, "as the foster carers are exercising parental control, I see no reason why he can't visit you under the conditions they specify."
"Thanks again," I said. "I'll tell Stephane to send you an email."
Charles' speech would sound very formal to most people, but I'd learned that he'd probably regarded that brief conversation as an informal chat. Not long after that, Stephane phoned me to say that he'd arrived safely but a little later than expected because of delays on the local railway line.
"I just arrived at the station," he replied, "but I wanted to let you know I'm okay and to ask what Rose had to say."
I explained how I'd needed to contact Charles and what he'd said.
"That sounds promising. Send me his email address, and I'll contact him as soon as I get home."
"And maybe later we can have a nice face-to-face chat," I suggested.
"What, missing me already?" he teased.
"Of course."
"I miss you, too," he replied. "Anyway, I'd better get home before Mum sends out a search party. Bye!"
After a light evening meal, I was just taking some towels out of the washing machine when there was a notification of an incoming call on my laptop. As I went to answer it, I felt quite excited by the fact that I didn't know whether it would be Stephane or my brothers. As it turned out, it was Connor and Liam.
"I'm nervous about Wednesday," Connor said after a couple of minutes of general chat.
"Why's that?" I asked.
"Have you forgotten?" he asked, looking at me in disbelief. "It's the exam results."
"Oh, yeah, it had slipped my mind," I admitted.
"Sheesh!" he said, rolling his eyes. "I know old people forget things, but I didn't think you were that old!"
"Don't be cheeky!" I said, laughing. Becoming more serious, I added, "In any case, you've already taken the exam, and now there's nothing to be gained by worrying."
"You won't forget my birthday next week, will you?" asked the ever-literal Liam.
"Don't worry. I won't forget your seventh birthday," I teased.
"I'll be eight!" he protested.
"Okay, seven, eight, there's not much difference," I said, trying to keep a straight face.
The little boy was about to protest again when his older brother chipped in.
"He's just teasing, Liam. You know he's an evil teaser."
"Yeah," Liam said, looking at me accusingly. "Evil and wicked."
"I'm sorry, but sometimes I just can't resist temptation, " I said. " Anyway, yes, I do remember you'll be eight. It's on a Monday, so will you be having a party on that day or maybe on the Sunday when you don't have to go to school?"
"Both?" he suggested hopefully.
"Well, ask Sarah and David, then let me know,' I instructed.
"Will Stephane be here?" the little boy asked. "He can come to the party."
"I don't know for sure, but if he's here, I'm sure he'd love to come."
"Liam just wants an extra present," Connor quipped.
Just a few minutes after that conversation ended, there was a call from Stephane.
"Hi Paul! It feels like ages since I last saw you," he said, looking a little sad.
I looked at the time on my screen and said, "It's been less than eleven hours."
"But it feels like forever," he replied.
From his expression and tone, it was difficult to tell how much was a tease and how much was just exaggeration, so I didn't know how to respond. While I was trying to decide, he spoke again.
"Thanks for consulting with Social Services and sending me Charles Hampton's email address," he said. "I've already sent him an email."
"Provided you don't have anything murky in your past and that your meeting with Charles goes reasonably, it looks like you'll be able to live here with me and the boys. Until then, you can stay as a visitor," I said.
"When can I come up again?" he asked eagerly.
"As soon as you can. Do you have any idea when that might be?" I asked. "Liam wants you to go to his birthday party."
"When's that?"
"Thirteenth or fourteenth of this month."
"You don't know which date is his birthday?"
"Of course I do," I replied, doing an impression of Connor and rolling my eyes. "It's the fourteenth, but that's a Monday, so he may have the party on the day before."
"I'll definitely be back by then. In fact, how about next Monday?" he suggested, tentatively adding, "Maybe I could stay for a couple of weeks because I can't afford to keep paying train fares. And maybe by then we can make definite plans for me to move in."
"That's fine with me," replied. "Let me know when you've booked the trains."
"Of course, my parents will wonder why I'm coming back so soon, and maybe I should tell them that I could be moving up permanently."
The mention of his parents made me remember the very brief conversation with his mother.
"Do you usually get a haircut and buy new clothes before you visit a friend?" I asked.
"Erm, no. But I don't often visit friends."
"In that case, I don't think your mum will be too surprised that you'll be moving to Linchester. She told me you were excited to visit, had a haircut, and bought new clothes. She seemed to think that was significant."
"I wish she hadn't told you that," he said with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.
"Why's that?"
"It makes me seem pathetic, and it put pressure on you to be nice to me."
"First, it's not pathetic. It's actually quite sweet. Second, I didn't feel any pressure to be nice to you. In fact, it only just occurred to me what she might have meant when she spoke to me."
"I guess the sooner I come back, the sooner I can have the interview with Charles," he said, changing the subject to something he found less embarrassing.
"And the sooner you can have another oil massage."
"Oh, yeah!"
On Wednesday morning at a little before ten o'clock, I got an email from Linchester Grammar School. I was pleased but not surprised that Connor had done very well in the exam and had been offered a place. There were a few attachments to the email, one of which was a formal acceptance that had to be returned within seven days. As soon as I'd read through the attached documents, I called the foster carers' number and spoke to Sarah.
"Yes, we got the email, too," she said. "It's great news. Do you want me to tell him when he gets home from school, or do you want me to tell him to call you as soon as he gets in?"
"Actually, if it's okay with you, I'd like to be there when he gets home so that I can tell him myself."
"Of course," she agreed. "That's a great idea, and then you can stay for tea."
"Thanks. In that case, I'll bring a cake."
Shortly before lunch, I was surprised to receive a call from Dr Fredericks.
"Hello, Mr Cooper," he greeted me. "I wanted to say how pleased I am that Connor did so well in the entrance exam , and I'm very happy that he'll be following your family tradition at the school."
"Thank you, Dr Fredericks ," I said. "But I suspect that you don't personally call the families of all the boys who pass the entrance exam ."
"Yes, you're correct. I wanted to speak with you about something you might consider a little delicate." There was a brief pause before he continued, "The exam showed that your brother has a good grasp of grammar in written English, but during the interview I noticed that his spoken English is a little more, erm, colloquial."
There was another pause, making me wonder if he expected me to comment, but I didn't know what to say, so he continued in a firm but apologetic tone.
"As you know, many of the boys here are from different regions or from overseas, so different accents are easily accepted, but good grammar is expected. For example, if he says things like 'me and my brothers did that', then, of course, staff here will correct him, but that may embarrass him. And although we strictly enforce rules against bullying, one or two students might make fun of him."
Although I understood why he was calling me, and I appreciated that he had the best intentions toward Connor, I still felt slightly offended on my brother's behalf. However, I suppressed those feelings, and in my most pleasant and placatory tone, I assured him that I'd give my brother a little coaching and that I'd try to correct problems of spoken grammar before September.
That afternoon at the foster home, I was in the kitchen with Sarah when my brothers arrived from school, and as soon as they entered the house, they came straight to the kitchen.
"I saw your car," Connor said to me, "but I didn't know you were coming."
He looked anxious and a little wary, and I guessed that he assumed that my presence was a bad sign. Perhaps he hadn't yet noticed my smile and generally happy appearance.
"Congratulations, Connor!" I said. "You did great in the exam."
"Well done, Connor!" Sarah said.
Liam was still giving a congratulatory hug to his brother when David, who'd given the boys a ride home from school, came in and added his congratulations. I accompanied the boys when they took their school bags up to their room.
"So I did good enough to pass," Connor said.
"You did better than just good," I said. "You would've got a scholarship."
He grinned proudly, then suddenly frowned, "What d'ya mean, would've?"
"Your exam score was high enough, but we're not poor enough," I replied. "I checked the documents they sent with the email."
"Not poor enough?" he said in disbelief. "How poor do we need to be?"
"Poorer than we are. Anyway, it's not important. The most important thing is that we have to formally accept the place within seven days."
"I really have a choice?" he asked. "And you won't just say I have to go?"
"Of course I won't force you to go, but I really think it'd be best for you."
"And you can afford it?"
"Yes."
He paused briefly, brows furrowed, before he said, "And can I join the sailing club?"
"Of course you can," I said fondly. "You can join any club you want."
"Okay, I'll go," he said.
He surprised me by giving me a big hug, and not wishing to be left out, Liam came over and made it into a group hug. It occurred to me that spending time with my brothers had completely changed my attitude to hugging.
"Are you staying for tea?" the little boy asked hopefully.
"And did you bring cake?" the older boy added.
" Yes and yes," I replied.
When we went downstairs, Mike and Katie, who'd ridden home on their bikes, were in the kitchen. As the redhead was sitting at the table, it seemed that he was no longer being banished to his room. However, he didn't seem very happy, and during the meal I saw signs of the same sadness and anger that I'd noticed when I first met him. Before I left, Liam informed me that he would have his birthday party on the Sunday and that Sarah said it was okay for him to invite Stephane. Then he led me away from the others and into the games room.
"Have you got me a present yet?" he asked very quietly and shyly.
"Not yet."
"Well, erm, my bike's a kid's bike," he said, blushing slightly.
Of course I realised that it would be a huge mistake to point out that he was in fact just a kid, so I just nodded and remained silent.
"I know I'm too little for a big bike like Connor's," he said earnestly, "but it'd be really nice to have a bike that didn't look like a little kid's."
"But you helped me choose that bike," I pointed out gently.
"Yeah, but I'd never had one before and didn't know," he said. Carefully studying my face to judge my reaction, he added, "We can sell the one I have now to buy a different one."
As he almost certainly knew, there was no way I could resist the pleading look in his beautiful amber eyes, so I agreed that we'd go to the bicycle shop on the Saturday before his birthday.
Soon after I returned home, there was a call from Stephane, and I immediately told him the good news about Connor's exam results. Although he'd previously given me the impression that he thought the school was old-fashioned and restrictive with so many traditions and rules, his happiness at the news was clearly genuine and wasn't inhibited in any way.
"The school fees must be quite big," he said. "Will Connor be able to get a scholarship?"
"No, but he got a very high exam mark."
"So it looks like you're going to have to get a job soon."
For some reason, I felt reluctant to tell him that I didn't actually need to work for a living. Of course, I didn't want to seem boastful, but it also wasn't something to be ashamed of. Perhaps my reticence was merely because I regarded my financial circumstances as a private matter. However, Stephane and I had by now shared many private and intimate things, and I didn't know how he'd feel if I kept secrets from him unnecessarily.
"Paul? Are you okay? You just spaced out."
"Sorry, I was just thinking," I replied.
"Sometimes it seems you do far too much of that," he said, not totally in jest. "Of course I'll be paying you rent, but I doubt it'll cover the school fees."
"Oh, no," I protested. "When you mentioned it before, I considered it, but rent would make things far too complicated."
"You mean it'll be a commitment," he said sadly.
"Erm, no, nothing like that," I reassured him. "If you pay rent, it'd make me a landlord with all the legal and insurance regulations. And rent is just another complication for the tax forms. No, any income from rent wouldn't be worth all the hassle."
"As an unemployed guy living off your gran's savings, surely your tax forms are pretty simple."
"If it was simple, I wouldn't employ accountants to do it."
There was a long silence, during which he frowned in thought as he absorbed the implications of my words.
"You never said you were rich," he said eventually.
"I'm not rich," I said. "I'm just comfortably off."
"I suppose definitions may vary. How do you define 'comfortable'?"
"I may get a job, but I don't need to get one as long as I live frugally."
"Anyway," he said with determination, "if I don't pay rent, I'm definitely going to contribute to the household somehow."
"Can I tell Liam you'll definitely be here for his birthday?" I asked, eager to change the subject.
"Yes, I've booked the train," he replied brightly. "I'll be arriving on Monday afternoon at the same time as before."
"Great!" I enthused.
"So can I book a massage for Monday night?" he asked with a sultry smile.
"I'll see if I can book the masseur," I replied, trying to keep a straight face.
The following evening, David phoned to say that he, Sarah and Susie would be taking a break during the Easter holidays and if it would be okay for my brothers to stay with me for the week. Of course, I happily agreed. During our conversation he mentioned that Mike and Katie would be staying with the usual holiday carers.
"Frankly, I'm a bit concerned about leaving Mike," he said, "and we almost cancelled our vacation, but his counsellor and Social Services thought that, on balance, a break and change of scenery might be better for him."
"It must've been a tough decision for you," I said sympathetically.
"For obvious reasons I can't give details," he said, "but it appears that you were right that the whole situation might be a cry for help. As you suggested, I took another look, and I found some text files that I needed to share with his counsellor and with Rose. The laptop is now confiscated for an indefinite period, but oddly Mike hasn't complained too much about that.
"Also, I've persuaded Katie to swap bedrooms with him so that it's easier to keep an eye on him. And we ' ve managed to get him an extra weekly appointment to see his counsellor. He still won ' t talk to anyone about the files I found, but at least he's now interacting with people more or less normally."
"Poor boy," I said. "I guess it'll take a long time to recover from the horrible things that happened to him when he was little."
"If ever," David said sadly. "Sometimes kids like that can never have a truly normal life. In any case, we all wondered if Mike would be better off in a home with carers who have more experience of dealing with severely traumatised children. However, this is his third home since coming into care, and moving him again would likely do more harm than good."
"I wish there was something I could do to help," I said sadly.
"What would help is if he felt that things could get back to normal, " he replied a little hesitantly, " like it was before the recent problems. At the moment, I think he feels that everyone is still dealing with the fallout and looking at him differently."
"Anything I can specifically do?"
"He's not been for a run for a while, and I think running may make him feel better."
"Yes, for some people like me, it's as much about mental wellbeing as physical fitness."
"Exactly. However, I've not been able to persuade him to run, even on nice days, even though I offered to take him to Lytton Dell. Maybe he thinks that I'm suggesting it as a sort of therapy. But he knows that running is natural for you and that you enjoy it. Maybe if you were to invite him to join you on a run, he'd accept."
"Okay," I agreed, "doing something I enjoy and helping someone at the same time won't be a problem at all."
"That's very good of you," he replied, sounding relieved. "But one important thing to remember is that he mustn't know that we've discussed the whole laptop incident. So you should behave as you normally would have before it all happened."
"As far as I can tell, everyone in the house knows he was grounded and his laptop was confiscated," I pointed out, "so he'll expect me to know that much."
"Of course, but it would probably make things worse if he thought you knew more than that. So better not mention it at all. But obviously, if he mentions it or wants to talk about anything at all, there's no harm in offering a sympathetic ear."
When I went to pick up my brothers on Friday, I saw Mike and asked if he'd been for a run recently. With apparent disinterest, he told me that he hadn't, so I said that I was thinking of going for a run in Lytton Dell on Sunday afternoon and that he was welcome to join me. He declined the invitation in a manner that was almost rude.
During the drive home, in order to get some idea of their attitude to Stephane, I mentioned that he'd be coming again on Monday and staying for about two weeks. Connor merely said, 'Okay'. Liam said that he was glad Stephane would be at his birthday party. Then on Saturday morning, Liam said he wished Stephane was there to help make plans for the conservatory. So it appeared that the younger boy had a very positive view of Stephane and that Connor's attitude was no worse than neutral.
On Saturday, we had afternoon tea at my godparents' house, and Liam mentioned Stephane's upcoming visit. Without making it obvious, I carefully observed my godparents' reactions. Uncle Geoffrey didn't comment, and Aunt Anne merely said that it would be nice for me to have the company of someone my own age.
Sunday was sunny and almost like spring, so I took my running gear to the foster home when we went for lunch. I told Mike that I was going to Lytton Dell for a run and that it was up to him whether he joined me or not. My brothers said they weren't interested in a run but would like to go with me to enjoy the fresh air.
Katie wasn ' t there because she was visiting her mum, and when Mike realised that I was going even if he didn't and that he and Susie would be the only kids in the house, he decided to join us in the Dell. He chose to follow the same route as I did, but he quickly fell behind. However, I didn't slow my pace in case he thought that I was treating him any differently from previous runs.
My brothers had been generally exploring and were throwing small sticks into the stream when I joined them to do cooling-down exercises. Mike arrived a few minutes later and appeared to be in pain as well as out of breath.
"Are you okay?" I asked in concern. "Pulled a muscle? Any cramps?"
"Fine… just… hurt," he replied and started trying to copy the exercises.
"Where's it hurting?"
"All… legs."
"Probably just lactic acid buildup," I said. "I told you not to push yourself too hard."
If Connor or Liam had been in that state, I would probably have rubbed their legs, but I didn't think that would be a good idea with Mike.
"Try doing this," I said, demonstrating on myself how to gently massage my leg muscles. "It should help make the hurt go away faster."
"S'okay," he said, "hurts good."
I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I was relieved that he started copying what I was doing.
When we got back to the foster home, I accepted Sarah's offer to use their shower, and when I returned to the kitchen, I saw that David had brought Katie back. She was helping her foster carers to prepare food, and I offered to give a hand. A couple of minutes later, my brothers appeared, and shortly after that, so did a freshly showered Mike.
"Did you enjoy the run?" David asked him.
"Yeah, it was good," Mike replied in a neutral tone.
I was relieved when neither he nor my brothers mentioned his leg pains or any other discomforts. At least I wouldn't be blamed for allowing him to push himself too hard. I was even more relieved when Liam, who still helped David in their garden, completely changed the topic of discussion.
His favourite book, which he consulted frequently, was the one on gardening that he'd been given for Christmas. He'd become very skilled at naming plants and knowing when they bloomed, and he took great pleasure in comparing the two gardens, somehow always taking credit for whichever was better. In the previous month he'd pointed out that David had a superior display of crocuses but that he didn't have snowdrops as my garden did. Now he was speculating about whose daffodils would come up and flower first.
"It's not a competition," Sarah said, trying to hide her amusement.
"I'd win if it was," Liam said and grinned smugly.
"I bet you a hundred pounds that daffodils will flower first here," I said.
"I won't bet," the little boy said, eyeing me with suspicion.
"Pity," I replied, "because I'd definitely win. Gran didn't like daffs, so we don't have any in our garden."
"You're a cheater!" Liam accused, though his smile betrayed his pretended annoyance.
"An evil cheater," Connor agreed with a hint of admiration.
When I got home, I called Stephane to report on my day's activities and confirm that I was going to meet him at the station the following day. He told me that he'd spent much of the day trying to decide what to pack and what to wear for his interview with Charles on Wednesday. When I pointed out that Charles' opinion probably wouldn't be influenced by his fashion expertise, Stephane accused me of being unhelpful.
"Did you manage to book the masseur for tomorrow?" he asked just before the call ended.
"Oh, yes, I nearly forgot about that," I teased. "He said he's extremely busy, but I managed to persuade him to find a time slot for you."
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