Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 24
Sunday's roast beef lunch was as wonderful as usual, and Stephane seemed to be reasonably relaxed. Perhaps that was partly because he knew I understood his feelings and partly because he stayed close to me. Bearing in mind what he'd said, I observed Mike more closely, and it did indeed appear that the glares he directed at Stephane were harsher than the ones he gave to others.
Once our lunch had settled, Mike asked if we could go for a run, and as the weather was dry and not too cold, I agreed. After that, there was a cascade of requests to go with us to Lytton Dell, so it was decided to make it into a family trip. Mike could have sat with my brothers in the back of my Merc but decided to go in David's car with Sarah, Susie and Katie.
Although I set off at what was for me a relatively gentle pace, Mike soon fell behind, and despite my earlier advice, it was clear he was pushing himself too hard. I was torn between slowing down to allow him to keep up and concern that he might think I was taking pity on him. As a sort of compromise, I decided to stop, tell him to take it easy, and then continue at my normal pace.
Meanwhile, Katie, Susie and Liam were exploring the Dell under the supervision of the foster carers. Connor and Stephane stood close together, watching me and Mike. After reaching the halfway point of the circuit that I'd planned, I set off back toward the rest of the party. That meant I could see Mike, who was still at least a couple of hundred metres behind me.
As we approached each other, running in opposite directions, it was clear that he was in distress and still trying to run as fast as he could. Obviously, my attempt to avoid letting him think that I pitied him was backfiring badly. The others were in sight but too far away to see the state he was in, and realising that I needed to do something, I ran directly toward him.
"Mike! Stop!" I called out.
He ignored me, and I repeated the words, almost shouting, but not loud enough for others to hear me. He stopped and bent over, hands on knees to prevent himself from falling. Then, too out of breath to speak, he glared up at me with an expression of determination and defiance. For a couple of minutes, I stood there, trying to decide what to do while watching him slowly recover his breath.
His face was red, he appeared to be in distress, and I guessed that a buildup of lactic acid was causing him pain. I'd been told that he was psychologically delicate, and I knew that an amateur who tried to help could cause more damage. I supposed it was similar to finding someone injured in the street and knowing that moving them could cause serious harm.
Here was a boy, however, who was certainly in physical distress and probably also in psychological distress, and I couldn't just ignore that. If he'd been injured in the street, I would at least have covered him and held his hand until professional help arrived. The least I could do for Mike would be the psychological equivalent of that.
David had said that the best thing to do was to treat Mike as I normally would have done before the confiscation of the laptop. There was no doubt that I would've tried to help the boy before that incident, so helping him now would be treating him normally. Although I knew that his real problems were not really related to running, I hoped that starting on the topic of running might contribute toward putting him at ease.
"Mike," I said gently, "have you forgotten the training and tips I gave you? To get better, you need to know your limits and just push at them slowly and carefully. You'll only make things worse if you force yourself way past those limits."
"Why… do you… care?" he asked, still breathing heavily.
"I don't need a reason to care, apart from the fact that you're a fellow human being who appears to be in great discomfort."
"There're… billions… like that," he said with a look of disdain.
"Yeah, but none of them are here in front of me now," I pointed out.
He stood up, looked me directly in the eyes for a couple of seconds as if he were trying to read my mind, and then he averted his gaze.
"When we started running together," I said, "you were making great progress, but now you just seem to be running with the intention of hurting yourself."
As if on cue, he collapsed to sit on the ground, grimacing in pain and grabbing his calf muscle with both hands.
"Fuck! Shit!" he said through gritted teeth. "Now you made me get cramp. If you hadn't made me stop, I'd be okay."
Realising that disagreeing with him would only make things worse, I simply said, "Move your foot so the toes point up toward your knee. It should help it to get better."
Although the expression in his eyes indicated that he didn't believe that it would work, he did as I suggested, and slowly it appeared that his pain was decreasing.
"I know it's not what you'd expect," I explained, "but gently stretching a cramping muscle usually helps."
"It's getting better," he acknowledged grudgingly.
"So, were you ignoring my coaching instructions out of spite?" I said lightly, hoping to raise his spirits, "Or were you trying to hurt yourself?"
"Both," he said, looking into my eyes and waiting for my reaction.
I was surprised and a little shocked, not only by his answer but also by the fact that he'd taken my jocular question seriously. While I was trying to think of a response, I heard David's voice calling out and looked up to see him approaching. As he got closer, I could see the concern on his face.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"I got cramp," Mike answered quickly. "It's getting better now."
He stood up and tried to walk but was only able to hobble a couple of steps.
"You shouldn't try to keep up with someone as experienced as Paul," David said, looking at me in a way that indicated that he thought it was partly my fault.
Supporting the boy between us, David and I helped him back to the cars, and we drove back to the foster home for tea. All the way home and during the meal I didn't say much because I was trying to work out what Mike had meant. I wondered why he would want to spite me and, even more important, why he'd want to hurt himself.
After tea, when Sarah and I were the only ones remaining in the kitchen, she told me that Katie would be going back to live with her mum the weekend after Easter. Bearing in mind that Easter would be Katie's last Sunday lunch with them, Sarah said that she and David wanted to make sure that my brothers and I would be there. She also mentioned that Stephane could come, but I told her that he would be spending the holiday with his parents.
"I presume Mike knows?" I asked, realising that he'd miss Katie.
"Yes, Katie's been keeping him up to date on progress with her mum, but the move was confirmed last Thursday."
"And I'm sure he knows that Liam and Connor will soon be coming to live with me. Do you think he might feel, erm, left behind?"
"We did think about that, but there isn't much we can do apart from making him feel loved and wanted," she replied sadly. "I think Katie will keep in touch with him, and hopefully your brothers will, too. And there are a lot of children needing foster care, so I'm sure we'll have some new kids living here soon. Mike won't be alone here for long."
"If it's okay with you, I could stay in touch with Mike, too," I suggested. "Apart from anything else, the way he's pushing himself too hard with his running shows he still needs coaching. Also, I hope this isn't presumptuous, but I think of you and David as my friends, so I'd very much like to keep frequent contact."
"Of course it's not presumptuous! We feel the same and want you to know that you, Connor and Liam are welcome here anytime," she said, and smiled broadly. "And you have a standing invitation to Sunday lunch."
At that point, David came into the kitchen carrying a sleepy Susie, who was resting her head on his shoulder.
"Mike's taken Paul's suggestion about soaking in a hot bath," he said. "And Stephane's teamed up with Katie to play against the two brothers on their new console game. And this little one has decided she wants her mummy to put her to bed."
"I was just telling Paul about Katie and Easter," she said, reaching out to take her daughter, "and saying he's always welcome here no matter where his brothers are living."
"Yes, of course," David said emphatically. "Apart from enjoying your company, we've grown very fond of your cakes, trifles and pies!"
"I was thinking about how easily Mike could stay in touch with Katie. Is his laptop still confiscated?" I asked.
"We're still working on that," he replied, becoming sombre. "I wonder if Mike is deliberately not telling us what files he wants to keep because he hopes that will mean the drive won't be completely wiped. Of course we wouldn't give in to blackmail, so the drive will soon be erased anyway."
"Will he get it back then?"
"Only if he gives a believable promise that he won't get around the parental controls," he replied with an expression that indicated he didn't think that would happen anytime soon.
"Okay, how about I give him a phone like the one I got for Liam?" I suggested. "Then he can stay in touch with Katie and my brothers without having internet access. Also, it means that he can contact you if he needs help when he's away from the house."
David and Sarah looked at each other for a second, as if consulting telepathically. She nodded her head, and he turned back to me.
"Thanks, that's a good idea," he said, "but maybe you can get him a phone that can have access restricted to approved numbers. I don't know if we'd actually use that function, but it may be useful to have if necessary."
On the drive home, there was initially very little chat. I was thinking about Mike and our brief interaction at Lytton Dell, and Stephane seemed lost in his own thoughts. Then after about ten minutes, he spoke.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I can't wait to have you all to myself when we get home, but I'm beginning to miss Liam and Connor already."
"I'm glad you said 'home'," I replied, "and I know what you mean about my brothers. Having them around is a bit addictive, and I miss them when they're not with me. On the other hand, it's also nice to have some alone time."
"That thing about masks," he said after a few seconds of silence. "It was a bad analogy."
"You were the first one to mention masks," I pointed out, hoping that this wasn't the start of another difficult discussion.
"Yeah," he admitted, "but now I know that's wrong. Putting on a mask implies a deliberate choice, and there's usually an intent to deceive. But you're not like that. Now I think that you're more like a chameleon, and you automatically blend into your background."
"Erm, okay," I said, "but I'm not sure that being compared to a reptile is very complimentary."
"It wasn't intended as a compliment," he replied, sounding amused. "I was just an observation and a better analogy. Once you accept that the chameleon can change how it appears, you can look for it moving and see what it does."
"So?"
"So I accept you for what you are, and I know that however you may appear, what you do is usually good. I see that with your brothers you feel comfortable enough for your true appearance to show, and a lot of the time, you're the same with me. Some day, hopefully soon, it won't be just a lot of the time but all the time."
Concentrating on driving through the dark, I wasn't sure that I'd grasped all the complexities, so I just said, "I'll try my best."
"I think you miss the point," he said, sounding a little exasperated. "It's an automatic reflex and part of your basic nature. No matter how hard you try, you probably can't change. And anyway, I love the way you are."
During the call with my brothers on the evening before Stephane went home, Liam asked to speak with him so he could remind him to 'drive safe'. Stephane was touched by that show of concern even more than I was. The next day, my boyfriend set off to visit his family, and I was left alone in the house for the rest of the week.
I went to pick up my brothers on Friday morning, the first day of their school holidays. Mike, who'd been told that I'd be bringing his new phone, met me in the hallway and thanked me for the gift. However, he seemed a little irked when I handed it to Sarah so that she could ensure it allowed only approved numbers. He cheered up a little when I told Sarah that I'd be happy for my number to be included.
The first thing Liam did when we got home was to check up on his 'baby orange tree', and fortunately he was happy with its condition. I told him that Stephane should have all the credit for the care of the plant and that he could thank him when he called later. After they'd unpacked and we'd had lunch, I announced that because Sunday was going to be special, I planned on making two cakes as well as a pie and a trifle. To get all that done, I would need to start work immediately.
Connor quickly volunteered to help, and we were still getting ingredients together and deciding on the assignment of tasks when we heard Liam trying out some newly learned tunes on the piano. I recognised it as something I'd heard before but couldn't remember the name. As if he'd been waiting for his little brother to start playing, Connor spoke.
"Paul, can we have a private talk? A secret just for us?" he said quietly and hesitantly,
"Yes, of course."
"And I promise I won't tell anyone," he said.
"Erm, okay," I replied, beginning to feel a little nervous, "and I promise, too."
"When did you decide to be bisexual?" he asked.
"It's not the sort of thing you decide. It's just what you are."
"When did you know what you were?" he persisted.
"I think I had to work it out," I replied, deciding that honesty would be the best option. "It took some time. It wasn't something sudden, at least not for me, but maybe it's different with other people."
"So how long did it take to know?"
" Quite a long time," I replied. Then I took a deep breath and thought for a few seconds before continuing, "When I was around twelve to fourteen, I thought I was probably gay because I loved a boy. After that, I discovered that I fancied girls more than boys and then had girlfriends but still found some guys attractive. I guess I sort of knew I was bi then, but it didn't matter to me because I never thought I'd love another guy."
"But you love Stephane," Connor said.
"Yeah, and that's when I knew that being bi did matter to me."
He nodded, and I presumed he understood, though I wasn't totally sure that I did. We carried on with our work for a few minutes before he spoke again.
"Well, if you and Stephane are boyfriends and he's coming to live with us," he said, weighing out some flour and not looking at me, "will you be doing sex stuff?"
"That's private," I replied quickly, suppressing my incipient panic.
"But isn't that what boyfriends and girlfriends do?"
It was difficult holding back the panic while at the same time trying to decide what to say. As his question was generic and not specifically about me, I couldn't really say it was private. On the other hand, I had no idea what I could say that he didn't already know and tried to remember what I understood about relationships when I was his age.
"Having a boyfriend or girlfriend means that you like them and you fancy them and there's an emotional connection," I said eventually, "but they can still be a boyfriend without sex. And you can have sex without being a boyfriend."
"But boyfriends and girlfriends usually have sex," he stated.
"Often, but not necessarily usually," I said. Looking at him with a frown, I added, "And they certainly don't have sex until they're old enough."
"You and Stephane are old enough," he said with a sly grin. He paused, and looking more serious, he added, "When Mum had boyfriends, she let them stay at night, and they did sex."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I'm not a baby," he replied, rolling his eyes, "and I could hear them."
The idea of hearing my mother having sex shocked me, but he seemed unperturbed.
"How did you feel about that?" I asked,
"If they hadn't done that, we wouldn't have Liam," he replied as if that should've been obvious to me.
"And we wouldn't have you, either," I said, "and I'm really glad that I've got both of you."
He grinned and said, "Anyway, boyfriends and girlfriends usually share bedrooms, so I was wondering why you and Stephane don't."
"Like I said before, we're not ready yet for people to know about us, and, well, I was also worried about if you'd be, erm, uncomfortable about me and Stephane doing stuff like that."
"I don't care," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "And if Stephane is in your bedroom, me and Liam can have our bathroom just for us."
"What will Liam think about Stephane sharing my bedroom?"
"He won't care, either," he said, "as long as you don't do sex stuff where we can see."
We carried on working for several minutes until Liam came in and asked if he could have a drink and a snack, so we all took a brief break. When Connor and I went back to work, the little boy stayed for a while, then said he was going to look around the garden. Although it was sunny, there was a chilly breeze, so I told him to put on a coat and scarf.
"Ya know, I think I'm like you," Connor said when he was sure that his little brother had gone outside.
"You mean handsome, clever, kind, gentle, and generous?" I joked.
"Don't tease!" he scolded. "I mean bi. I fancy boys and girls."
"You're more mature than I was at your age," I pointed out. "When I was your age, I didn't fancy either."
"That was in the old days!" he protested.
"Maybe not quite so long ago," I replied with a wry smile, "but I was brought up by Gran and Grandad, who were rather old-fashioned."
"So?" he prompted, obviously wanting to know my thoughts on his revelation.
"Well, I appreciate you telling me something so important and so personal. Of course, no matter how old you are, you're the only one who knows who you fancy. Maybe you're one of those people who knows immediately, and maybe you're like me, and it could take a while to work it out. In any case, you can always talk to me, and I'll always listen. But most important of all, you'll always be my brother. I'll always love you whether you're bi or gay or straight. As long as you're happy, then I'm happy."
The following afternoon, we went to my godparents' house for tea. After we'd eaten, they gave the boys large chocolate eggs, which were about twice the size of the one they gave to me. Connor commented that he thought I was too old to get Easter eggs.
"Pish!" Aunt Anne replied dismissively. "Next you'll be telling me he's too old for hugs!"
"Can I try some of my egg now?" Liam asked hopefully.
"Technically you should wait until tomorrow," she replied without much conviction, "but I don't suppose a little taste now will do any harm."
Liam quickly unwrapped his egg, and I noticed that Connor rather sneakily didn't open his own but instead tasted a piece of his little brother's.
"You certainly have to wait until tomorrow to taste the ones I got for you," I said, maybe a little too smugly, "because you won't get them until Easter morning."
"You never said you'd get us some, too," Connor said accusingly.
"You never asked," I replied. "But maybe I shouldn't give them to you until we go for lunch tomorrow when I give eggs to the others."
"That's not fair!" the older boy protested.
I didn't ask if his disapproval was related to having to wait or to the fact that I was also giving eggs to the other children. However, knowing Connor, I suspected that it was a little of both.
Soon after we returned home from having tea with my godparents, my brothers and I were all sitting together on the sofa and trying to decide what to watch on TV when my phone began to ring. I was comfortable where I was, my phone was out of reach on the coffee table, and I'd already spoken with Stephane that day. Therefore, I almost didn't bother answering. However, I was curious to see who might be calling on a holiday weekend and wondered if it might be an emergency. The call turned out to be from an unrecognised number.
"Hello, Paul. It's Mike."
"Oh, hi," I replied, surprised because he'd never called me before.
"I just wanted to test the phone, but everyone on the list is here except for you and Connor. And I thought if I called you, I could say thanks again."
"You're welcome."
"And I wondered if you'd be going for a run soon," he said. "My muscles are feeling better now."
"I doubt that I'll be able to fit it in tomorrow, after a special Easter Sunday lunch ," I replied, " and anyway, I don't think the weather forecast for tomorrow is good."
"Anytime, really, when you feel like it," he said vaguely, giving me the impression that he hadn't yet got to the main reason for this call."
"Okay, but you should start following my training suggestions. I don't like seeing you push so hard that you hurt yourself."
"I'll try," he said unconvincingly, then he quickly added, "Are Liam and Connor there with you? Can I talk to you in private?"
"Just a minute," I replied and pressed the mute button.
My brothers had clearly deduced who'd called and were watching me closely. They were both curious, but Connor also had a frown of disapproval. Before they could start asking questions, I told them that I'd finish the call in the office and that they could pick something to watch on TV.
"Hi, Mike. I'm alone now."
Although the phone had been muted for only a short time, it was enough to give him an opportunity to reconsider what he'd wanted to talk about. He started generally chatting about what he'd been doing that day and other topics that obviously didn't require privacy. On the one hand, I was relieved that perhaps I wasn't going to have to deal with anything emotionally loaded. However, on the other hand, I thought that if he really wanted to discuss something important, then it would be better if he got it off his chest.
"You never really answered my question," he accused, suddenly jumping into what he'd really called me to say.
"Which question?" I asked, taken by surprise.
"Why're you nice to me? Why buy me stuff?"
"I answered that more than once," I patiently pointed out. "In any case, lots of people are nice to you and buy you things."
"But I didn't understand the answers," he replied, sounding frustrated, "and all the other adults are paid to be nice. It's their job."
"I know that David and Sarah care about you, and they don't just do it for pay. And Katie doesn't get paid to be your friend," I said, deliberately omitting to mention my brothers because I didn't know how well they were currently getting on with Mike.
"But you're different. You're not just another kid, and you don't get paid. You say you'd be just as nice to others just because they're human, but it doesn't make sense. People always want something. Even David and Sarah are nice because they expect me to do what they say."
I suddenly had a sort of deja vu feeling, reminding me of when I told Mike to stop running. Again, I felt out of my depth, but he needed help, and now he was reaching out to me. I decided that trying to help would probably do less harm than fobbing him off and maybe suggesting he talk to his foster carers or his counsellor.
"Helping people and being nice to people makes me feel good," I said, realising that it was something that I couldn't easily explain. "Maybe that's what I get out of it. I like feeling good, so I'm nice to people."
"But you're a good person, and you can be nice to lots of people. You should be nice to good people," he said, sounding confused and unhappy. "If you're nice to bad people like me, then you must have a different reason."
Although I couldn't see any logic in what he was saying, I was beginning to get an idea of what he was feeling.
"You're not a bad person," I said with conviction.
"That's what my counsellor keeps saying, but she gets paid to try and make me feel better, so I don't believe her."
"I don't get paid to make you feel better," I pointed out.
"Yeah, that's what I don't understand."
"And I believe that you're not a bad person," I said gently. "Aunt Anne says that there's no such thing as a bad child, just a child who sometimes does bad things, and doing a bad thing doesn't make us a bad person. We all sometimes do bad things."
"There are bad people and bad kids who do lots of bad things. And bad people deserve to be hurt."
"Whoa, buddy," I said, taken aback. "I'm not sure about adults, but I'm absolutely certain that no kid deserves to be hurt, no matter how bad they are."
"Did Connor tell you I'm gay?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes, he said that you told him he could. But there's nothing bad about being gay."
There was a long silence, but I could tell by his breathing that he was still there, and the rhythm and depth of the breaths, together with a little sniffle sound, made me wonder if he might be crying. Whatever was going on, I thought the best thing to do was to wait for him to take up the conversation again when he was ready.
"You know the laptop you gave me's been confiscated," he said quietly, sounding a little hoarse. "Well, that's cos I downloaded some bad stuff."
"Whatever it was, it doesn't mean you're a bad person, and you've already been punished by losing access to your laptop."
"But I've done lots of other bad things," he said, somehow making me imagine him in a confessional. "Like… Like… I put mud on your car."
"Oh, that was you," I said, pretending to be completely surprised. "Well, I hope you won't do anything like that again."
"No! I'd never do anything to hurt you now."
"In that case, I forgive you," I said, reinforcing my own mental image of being in a confessional.
"Don't you want to punish me? Make me pay for it?" he asked in a fearful tone, but somehow also giving the impression that he wanted to be punished.
"I don't want to punish you, and even if I did, it wouldn't do any good. You already said you won't do it again."
There was a long pause before he responded, sounding relieved, "I wish I'd told you before, but I didn't have a phone in private."
"Why did you need a phone? There were lots of times you could have told me in person."
"It's better by phone, like if you got angry."
"You're welcome to phone me anytime," I reassured him, "but now that you know I won't get angry, you can also talk with me in person if you want."
"Maybe," he said cryptically. Sounding a little panicked, he quickly added, "This is private, right? You won't tell anybody, will you? I'm in enough trouble already!"
Yet again, I was in a difficult position, and I remembered similar situations with Connor. I wondered if there was something about me, some characteristic that made me get into situations like this. If I promised, I'd have to keep that promise. If I didn't promise, then he wouldn't confide in me if he needed to do so in the future. But maybe if I didn't pass on the information I had, then there would be a bad outcome for Mike.
"Paul, are you there?" he said, concerned.
"Yes, sorry. I was just thinking," I said and came to a decision. "I promise that I won't tell anyone unless you're in very great danger and I need to save your life."
He laughed lightly and briefly, apparently assuming that I was joking.
"But seriously, do you promise not to tell anyone, not even your brothers?"
"Yes, I promise," I said, hoping that wouldn't get either of us into trouble.
When I returned to the living room, both boys gave me questioning looks, with Connor adding a frown. I confirmed it was Mike, that he'd called to test his phone and to thank me for it, and that we'd mentioned going for a run sometime. They knew that there must've been more to such a long call, so I told them that the rest of the chat had been private. Liam accepted that with his usual good grace, while Connor grumbled but accepted it anyway.
David and Sarah had organised an egg hunt in the garden for after we'd had our Easter Sunday lunch. Mike protested that he was too old for such childish activities but took part anyway. Although he was perhaps a little more friendly toward me than before, he gave no other indication that our phone chat had changed his attitude toward me.
While the children were outside, David informed me that Mike had told him what files he wanted to keep, and the laptop hard drive would be reformatted soon. He also told me that the boy had promised not to try to get around parental controls if the laptop was returned to him. However, David said that he and Sarah weren't yet confident that Mike would keep the promise, so they wouldn't return the laptop immediately.
The following day, at Liam's request, the three of us went to the memorial garden, which he now referred to as Mum's Garden. In contrast to our previous visit, there were flowers in bloom as well as those in wreaths and in bunches near the wild garden. There were also quite a few people, though my brothers were the only children there. For a few minutes we sat in contemplative silence on one of the benches, then I decided to share my thoughts.
"It's almost exactly a year since Rose told me that I had two brothers," I said, "and it seems that so much has happened since then. Everything has changed."
"Yeah, I remember when Rose told us," Connor said. "I thought she must've made a mistake."
"Were you happy when you found out about us?" Liam asked me. "I was happy when Rose told us about you."
"Actually, I was like Connor. I thought Rose was probably wrong, so I wasn't either happy or unhappy. It wasn't until we first spoke on the phone that I started to believe it was true."
"But then you were happy?" the little boy persisted.
"Of course I was happy to know you existed," I assured him, "but at the time it was still a bit of a shock. I didn't know what it would be like to have brothers, and I didn't know how I'd get on with two boys I'd never met."
"Oh," Liam said, sounding disappointed.
"But you know when I was really, really happy to know I had brothers?" I said. "It was when we first met in person and when I got my first-ever brother hug."
Both boys beamed their happiness, and Liam's beautiful eyes glowed as he hugged my arm.
"I remember that," he said. "I wanted to do it, but I was a bit scared you wouldn't like it."
"I'm really glad you did. I loved it, and it made me realise that not only did I have brothers, but I was really glad that I had them."
"Brother hugs are best," Liam said. A little sadly, he added, "And I'm sorry you didn't have any when you were growing up."
"Well, thanks to you, Liam, I've been making up for all the years without them."
Connor, who was sitting on the other side of me and listening thoughtfully to our exchange, hugged my other arm tightly but didn't say anything.
When Stephane called me on the night before he was due to return, he informed me that he'd decided to set off very early in the morning in order to avoid any residual holiday traffic. Because of that, the car had already been loaded up, and he was going to go to bed early. Liam, who was sitting next to me on the sofa, overheard the conversation.
"Drive safe!" he told Stephane, much more loudly than was necessary.
"Yeah, drive safe!" I echoed.
Around eleven thirty the next morning, Stephane phoned me.
"I just stopped at a motorway services for a pee," he said. "Now I'll top up the petrol and be on my way. I expect to arrive in about an hour and a half."
"That's faster than I expected. I hope you've been driving safe," I said, using Liam's phrase.
"I was on the road before four, and the weather's been good," he replied, sounding amused, "so I've been safe and haven't even broken any speed limits."
"Great! See you soon, then."
Just under two hours later, the doorbell rang, and all three of us brothers went to open the door. I just about got there first and was greeted by a tired but happy Stephane. Because the boys already knew about our relationship, I didn't hesitate to grab hold of him and draw him into a hug. However, before giving him a peck on the cheek, I did hesitate, and I looked over his shoulder toward the street.
Stephane appeared to be taken by surprise by the warmth of my greeting, but he immediately returned my embrace. Liam, not wishing to be left out, wriggled past me and hugged him around the waist. Connor was also grinning but otherwise tried to hide his happiness by informing Stephane that we'd been waiting until he arrived before having lunch.
"I'm starving!" my boyfriend announced.
"Didn't you eat at any of the motorway services?" I asked.
"I've not had anything all day except a bacon sandwich more than four hours ago."
"Then we can have lunch now," Connor said gleefully.
"Yes," I agreed, suddenly feeling very hungry, "we can unpack the car later."
Our lunch, mostly sandwiches, cold cuts and salad, was already prepared and just needed to be put on the table. I agreed with the boys when they said it was a special occasion and that they should be allowed to have fizzy pop. To end the meal, I brought out a red velvet cake.
"We made that, me and Paul," Connor said proudly, "cos we know it's your favourite."
"That's very kind of you. Thank you very much," Stephane said, his voice breaking a little.
"Are you really going to be staying with us all the time now?" Liam asked. When that was confirmed, he added, "Great, you can help me with the plants in the conservatory."
"And you can watch footie with me," Connor said, casting a slightly disdainful look in my direction.
"I see," I said, pretending that my feelings had been hurt. "Now that you two have Stephane, what do you need me for?"
"Everything!" Liam said, taking my question literally.
"Cos you're the team leader," the older boy explained.
"And I need you, too," Stephane added with a raised eyebrow and a salacious smile.
As we went to unload the car, the fact that Stephane was moving in with me as my boyfriend suddenly felt more real. Before, it had been a plan and a desirable prospect, but now it was actually happening. The feeling was both happy and scary.
"You'll need your own key," I said, trying to ground myself with practical matters, "and the code for the alarm."
"I already know the code," he replied with a slight smile. "I've seen you use it often enough."
"I know it, too," Connor said, "but we don't have a key."
"We can see about that when you come to live here permanently," I told him.
The first thing I noticed when I looked in the car was a guitar on the back seat.
"I didn't know you played the guitar," I said. "I don't remember seeing it at the flat."
"I sort of play with the guitar rather than playing it," he replied, blushing. "I never took it to uni with me because I didn't want to be laughed at. But I brought it up with me because it has sentimental value… I hope you don't mind."
"Of course I don't mind!" I said.
"Will you teach me to play?" Liam asked. eyes wide with delight.
"Like I said, I can't really play it, just pluck out a few tunes and strum a few chords. I got it when I was at school, but I just never was able to play it very well."
"Can I play with it?" the little boy asked.
"Of course you can, but i t' ll need tuning. I can show you how to do that if you want."
We brought everything in from the car and stacked it in the hallway. Then as we started taking the bags upstairs, Connor picked up a carryall and turned to look at me and Stephane.
"Which room do these go in? The big bedroom?" he asked.
Thinking that it was a topic best dealt with in person rather than in a video chat, I hadn't yet told Stephane about my discussion with Connor regarding boyfriends sleeping together. However, now Connor had preempted the matter.
"That's up to Stephane," I replied, smiling at the confusion on my boyfriend's face, "but I hope he'll want to share my room."
"That's fine with me," Stephane said, looking a little dazed.
"Okay, then," Connor said, rolling his eyes. "There's no need to make a big deal about it."
Liam had been listening to the conversation but was only interested in where the bags should be taken and didn't care who slept where. He was much more interested in the guitar, and as soon as everything had been moved, he asked Stephane to show him how to tune it. As the two of them stood by the piano with the guitar, I sat next to Connor on the sofa and watched them.
There was no doubt who had the better ear of the two, and it quickly turned out to be the little boy dictating whether each string should be tuned higher or lower. It didn't take long, and when they'd finished, they came over and squeezed themselves on the sofa with us. It was possible for two adults and two children to fit on a sofa made for three adults, but it wasn't very comfortable, and the boys had lots of growing ahead of them.
"We either need an extra sofa," I said, "or we need a bigger one."
Connor rolled his eyes and said, "A bigger one, obviously."
The other two instantly agreed, so I didn't even get to vote.
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