Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 26
It took a considerable amount of organising to arrange all the activities for Connor's birthday celebrations. Not only was there his official party at the foster home on Saturday, but there was also a party at my godparents' house on the evening before that, as well as the trips on Saturday and Sunday. Also, while Connor was at the football match with Stephane, I planned to take Liam and Mike to Lytton Dell.
Getting the timings and transportation coordinated felt like a piece of complex choreography, but in the end, it all worked out well. My godparents knew about the trips that had been planned but managed to sidestep all the tricks and entreaties that both my brothers used in attempts to get the information from them. Connor knew that all would be revealed when he got up on the Saturday, his actual birthday, so he got up early and made enough noise to ensure the rest of us were also awake.
He was ecstatic when he found out that Stephane was taking him to a professional football match. He was also delighted by the prospect of a trip to the seaside, especially when I informed him that he would get to choose all of the day's activities. Liam was also very happy with the plans for the weekend, and he was clearly relieved that he didn't have to go to the football game.
When Liam and I arrived at the foster home, Mike was already wearing his running kit and met us at the doorway. As I handed over the birthday cake and other party supplies to Sarah, he commented that he was looking forward to the trip to the seaside.
"Who told you about the surprise?" I asked.
"Connor called me this morning, and he told me about going to the footie match," he replied, "but I'd rather go for a run with you."
I was still trying to think of a response when David came into the kitchen, and as soon as he'd greeted us, Liam spoke to him.
"The buds on Paul's flowering cherry trees are opening," he said excitedly. "I took pictures, but Connor has the phone. I'll show you when he gets here."
"I look forward to that," David replied with good humour.
"Why don't you have a flowering cherry tree in your garden?" Liam asked. "They look really nice."
"They're big trees, and there's no space in the garden," David replied patiently.
"Oh, yeah," the little boy said, frowning in disappointment.
Liam, Mike, and I decided to go to Lytton Dell immediately so that we could be back with plenty of time to help with preparations for the party. As usual, the little boy started exploring and studying the natural surroundings as soon as we got out of the car. Mike and I ran different routes, and I chose one that allowed me to have a view of both boys for most of the time. I was pleased to see that Mike didn't push himself too hard and that he appeared to be enjoying the exercise.
Stephane and Connor arrived in the Golf just as the finishing touches were being made to the party preparations. After politely thanking everyone for their birthday greetings, Connor immediately started giving an excited and seemingly kick-by-kick account of the game. Sarah and I did our best to appear interested, but Liam's gaze just wandered around the room, as if he were trying to find something more worthy of his attention.
Connor was starting a growth spurt and had grown out of his football boots, so Sarah and David gave him a new pair. Liam had given him a phone pouch that could attach to his belt. My godparents had asked Connor what he wanted for his birthday, and he asked for cash so that he could save up for things like the sailing club.
Mike's gift was a wristband made from braided black and gold cords with an adjustable metal clasp. The quality was excellent, so I was surprised to learn that the redhead had made it himself. Almost as surprising was the fact that Connor was not only pleased to receive it as a 'friendship band' but also that he put it on immediately and went on to wear it every day.
Because we were planning an early start for the next day, we left the foster home soon after the end of the party. The Golf was driven home by Stephane, and the Merc was driven by me. Liam, not wishing Stephane to be all alone, volunteered to go with him. Connor, sitting in the front passenger seat, seemed unexpectedly quiet.
"Is everything okay? Are you enjoying your birthday treats?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's great. Best birthday ever!" he replied, perking up and smiling. After a brief pause, he added more solemnly, "But I was hoping the adoption would be done by now. That would've been a perfect birthday present."
"They said it could take up to six weeks for the court to finalise it, though they also said it might be sooner. Maybe things are busy, or maybe having two bank holidays in one month slows things down. Anyway, even if it's the full six weeks, that's only a couple of weeks from now."
"Yeah, I s'pose," he said and sighed, "but it would've been nice to have it for my birthday."
The next day at about eight thirty, we arrived at the foster home to pick up Mike. The weather was c loudy with sunny spells, and there was a chilly breeze, so perhaps not ideal for a trip to the seaside . However, at least it was dry, and we could be comfortable in our cold-weather clothes. The three boys settled themselves onto the back seat, with Connor in the middle.
Almost as soon as we set off, Liam began singing what he referred to as our 'funny songs', and I was pleased that he felt comfortable with all of us hearing him. However, we all joined in, so it didn't remain a solo performance for long. Stephane, who had a pleasant, deep singing voice, didn't know the words of most of the songs but joined in the choruses. When we'd been through our usual repertoire, he started singing solo, but it was a song I didn't know.
It was about a 'young maid' who killed her family in various gruesome ways and then, when questioned by police, didn't deny it because lying was a sin. I wasn't sure the subject matter was suitable for boys of their ages, but they all enjoyed it. Liam especially thought the ending was funny, and Connor asked Stephane to teach them the words.
As soon as we arrived, Connor decided that we should all go to the amusement park and start on the rides. Because it was early in the season and the weather wasn't great, it wasn't very busy, so the queues were relatively short. After that, Connor chose to have fish, chips, and mushy peas for lunch, and while the meal settled, we went for a walk along the seafront.
Connor and Mike both enthusiastically agreed that the next thing they wanted to do was to go to play games in the biggest arcade. The youngest boy, however, didn't look very happy.
"What's the matter, Liam?" I asked. "Why so glum?"
"I want to look in the rock pools," he replied with a slight pout. "I can play video games at home."
"But today's Connor's birthday treat," I pointed out gently. "Don't you think that he should decide?"
The little boy didn't reply but instead just looked down at his shoes. Then looked up at me and gave me a pleading look.
"Okay, if it's alright with Stephane, he can go with Connor and Mike to the arcade, and I'll explore with you, " I suggested.
Everyone was happy with that idea, so I gave each of the two older boys twenty pounds to spend in the arcade. I also promised Stephane that if they run out of cash, I'd reimburse him if he gave them more. After arranging to meet up later at the cafe that Connor had chosen for our afternoon tea, we went our separate ways.
There was no singing on the way home because almost as soon as we drove out of town, all three boys fell asleep. Mike's head was resting against the inside of the car, Connor's head was on the redhead's shoulder, and Liam was leaning on his older brother. It occurred to me that such a situation would have seemed impossible just a few months earlier.
The adoption was finalised in the middle of the first week of June, and on the following Friday, I went to pick up my brothers from the foster home. Stephane didn't go with me because he was still at work, which meant there was more space in the car for the boys' belongings. Even so, there wasn't enough space for everything, and we had to return on Saturday to get the rest of their things.
Although the adoption was a happy event, there was a subdued undertone. Liam specifically asked that there should be no party or celebrations because he'd miss Sarah and David. It was clear to me that Connor and Mike, who appeared to have become friends, would also miss each other, though neither of them said it openly. However, it was pointed out that there would be frequent visits between our two households.
As usual, Mike tried hard not to show his true feelings, but I could tell from the way he watched from the periphery that he was unhappy. However, he cheered up a little when I offered to go for a run with him on Sunday afternoon.
"I'll miss Sunday lunch here," Liam said to Sarah, glancing at me a little guiltily. "Paul makes great cakes and good lunches, but his Sunday lunches aren't as great as yours."
"Don't worry, Liam, I'm not going to be offended by an obvious truth," I said and smiled.
"Well, I'm sure you can come for Sunday lunch occasionally," Sarah said.
"Only if you'll visit us for Sunday lunch sometimes and also stay for teatime ," I replied.
From then on, that exchange of visits became a semi-regular occurrence, once or twice per month.
On Saturday afternoon, my brothers rearranged their rooms to accommodate their extra things, and early in the evening, we went round for a celebratory meal with my godparents. Aunt Anne was particularly happy and gave the boys several small presents. I felt a little uncomfortable by the fuss she made about their new surnames, but the boys didn't seem to mind.
Over the next few weeks, we settled into our new routine, with us all getting up early so that I could take my brothers to school. At first, it was difficult for me to get used to the early starts and relatively rigid routine, but the others took it in their stride, and I quickly adapted. After all, it was only a few weeks until the end of the school year and the start of the long summer vacation.
Quite often, when I picked them up from school in the afternoons, we'd stop in to have tea and a chat with Sarah and David. On those occasions, Mike and Connor would go off together, leaving Liam with Susie with us adults. Fortunately, Liam didn't appear to be bothered by that, and it seemed that he particularly enjoyed interacting with Sarah, which made me wonder if he might be feeling the lack of a mother figure.
On the second Friday night after the adoption, when the boys had just gone to bed, Stephane and I were sitting on the sofa, watching TV. We were leaning together, holding hands, and I was just about to kiss him when a pyjama-clad Liam appeared in the doorway. He looked unhappy, but he didn't speak and merely looked at me with an expression of sadness.
"What's the matter?" I asked, muting the TV.
He glanced at Stephane, then he turned his gaze back at me with a pleading look. My boyfriend quickly took the hint and said he was going to go and make us some tea. As soon as he'd gone, Liam climbed onto my lap. That surprised me a little because he hadn't done that since his eighth birthday.
"Connor said I can't sleep in his bed anymore," he complained. "And I can't have a bath when he's in the shower."
"Well, it's his bed, and he's entitled to privacy in the shower," I pointed out gently. "He can decide who sleeps with him and who sees him in the shower."
"Maybe I did something wrong," he suggested sadly.
"I'm sure it's not that," I reassured him, "but he doesn't need a reason to decide to be private, and if he does have a reason, he doesn't need to tell anyone."
"Okay," he said glumly, resting his head on my chest.
"But it's still time for bed," I said.
When he showed no sign of moving, I put my arms around him and stood up, realising that the growing boy would soon be too heavy for me to carry upstairs. Fortunately, he made it easier by redistributing his weight, putting his arms around my neck and resting his head on my shoulder. I put him into his bed, where Snuggles and Pan were already propped against the wall, then told him I'd be back in a minute to say goodnight.
Connor's door was open, and he was sitting on the end of his bed, wearing his dressing gown over his pyjamas.
"I thought you'd come," he said in a slightly challenging tone as soon as he saw me in the doorway.
"Look," I said soothingly, "I've already told Liam that it's up to you whether or not you share your bed. You have an absolute right to privacy, and you don't need a reason. And if you do have a reason, you don't have to tell anyone what it is."
"I didn't want to upset Liam," he said.
"He'll get over it," I reassured him, "but it would help if you let him know it isn't because he did anything wrong."
"He didn't do anything wrong," he said quickly, apparently surprised at the idea.
"Okay, maybe you could just tell him that. Now, it's time you were in bed. Goodnight," I said, turning to leave.
I was just about to ask if he wanted me to close his door when he spoke again.
"It's just… just that only little kids and boyfriends share a bed. Liam's not my boyfriend, and I'm not a little kid." He paused, and his voice, already very quiet, became a whisper. "I'm getting hairs."
"Like I said, you don't need to say why you don't want to share a bed," I said gently, "and you're right, you're not a little kid now. Goodnight, sleep tight."
As I left the room, I closed the door behind me and went to see Liam, who was sleepily hugging Pan on one side and Snuggles on the other. I whispered good night and sat by his bed until he fell asleep. When I left the room, I decided not to close the door completely, leaving it slightly ajar.
The next morning, Stephane and I decided to sleep in for a little longer than usual. In fact, I wanted to catch up on sleep after a week of getting up early, but he was feeling a little frisky, so we ended up compromising. I'd half expected one of my brothers to knock on the door to demand breakfast, but we were left in peace. While Stephane had a shower, I went downstairs and found my brothers sitting on the sofa and cuddling together as they watched TV.
"We were hungry and had some cereal," Liam said, giving me an accusatory stare.
"But we'd like a proper breakfast now," Connor added, "like waffles and syrup."
"You could've woken me up if you were hungry," I replied.
"We didn't think you were asleep," the older boy said, rolling his eyes.
Feeling myself beginning to blush, I turned away, intending to go to the kitchen.
"Paul, we can cuddle anywhere in this house, can't we?" the little boy asked, blurting out the words.
"Erm, yes, of course," I replied, turning back to face them.
"We talked about last night," Connor said, "and Liam said that what he liked most about being in my bed was cuddling. So I told him that now we live here, we don't need to hide our cuddles and don't need to be private in bed."
"He said that when it's just us four here, it's all private," his little brother explained.
"That's true," I confirmed. "We're all allowed to cuddle and hug and hold hands here, and no one will criticise or make fun of you."
Liam's eyes flashed, and a big grin spread across his face. To me, it felt like the sun breaking through clouds on a cool spring morning.
"How long until we have a proper breakfast?" Connor asked.
"About twenty minutes," I replied. "Stephane will be down by then."
"Okay," Liam said, "me and Connor can look round the garden."
Knowing that the older boy wasn't particularly interested in plants, I concluded that Liam's real motive was probably to have a private word with his brother. Connor must have reached the same conclusion because he simply nodded and went outside with his little brother. Later, when I went to tell them that food was ready, they held hands as they walked back to the house.
Almost every evening, Connor and Mike spent a lot of time on video calls together, and most of the time, my brother went to the privacy of his room for those chats. A few months previously, when they'd disliked each other so much, I could never have predicted that they'd become such close friends. However, I was very happy that things had turned out so well between them.
After one of their chats, Connor approached me in private and told me that Mike went out running as often as he could but that he much preferred it when he could go with me. That was clearly a not-so-subtle hint, so I promised to try my best to meet up with the redhead for a run at least once per week. Then my brother went on to make another request.
"Mike's bored, all on his own," he said. "Can he stay with us sometimes, at weekends?"
My first reaction was to agree, but then a potential problem occurred to me.
"Overnight stays could be a bit complicated," I replied hesitantly. "Apart from anything else, because of the, erm, sleeping arrangements."
"There's the spare bedroom as well as Stephane's room," Connor pointed out. "He never uses it, anyway."
"That's what I meant," I replied. "It's inconvenient if Stephane has to spend a whole weekend in his own room. And we'll have to be careful that Mike doesn't see me and Stephane if we want to hug or cuddle."
"Oh!" my brother responded as if he'd just had a revelation. "You don't need to worry about stuff like that. He already worked out that you're boyfriends. Actually, he was very angry at me."
"Why would he be angry with you if I have a boyfriend?" I asked, puzzled.
"He was annoyed because he thought I'd lied when I told him you weren't gay. So I told him it wasn't a lie because you're bi, not gay."
"You shouldn't tell people about our private family stuff," I said, annoyed and concerned. Seeing that he was startled and dismayed, I restrained my emotions and added more quietly, "Apart from the fact that someone's sexuality is a private matter, in this case you don't know how people will react."
"He already worked out for himself about you and Stephane," my brother protested defensively. "All I did was say you were bi and not gay. And he'd never, ever tell anyone else."
"You can't be sure of that."
"Yes, I can," he said with certainty. After a brief hesitation, he added very quietly, "Me and Mike have some secrets, and we'd never tell anyone."
"Alright," I responded, feeling slightly mollified. "I'll talk with Stephane, and if he's okay with it, I'll see if we can arrange something with Sarah and David."
When it turned out that Stephane didn't share my initial reservations and concerns regarding Mike staying with us for a weekend, I was a little surprised. However, before speaking with David and Sarah, I told Connor that he should make sure that Mike could be trusted not to mention that Stephane and I shared a bedroom. My brother complied, although he expressed his opinion that I was making a big fuss over nothing. As expected, the foster carers were happy for the redhead to have an overnight stay with us.
It turned out that the weekend arranged for Mike's stay coincided with the arrival of a new foster child, a teenage boy. When David and Sarah mentioned that, I thought they might have wanted to postpone the visit, but they decided that, on balance, it would be better to proceed as planned. I hoped that the new arrival would help Mike to feel less bored and lonely and that the two boys would get on well together. As the redhead had mellowed considerably since I'd first met him, I thought that there was a reasonable possibility that my hope would be fulfilled.
Although I'd been content living alone in the house after Gran died, I discovered that I was happier living there with my brothers and Stephane. Of course, some sacrifices were required, and some adjustments had to be made, especially in respect of my freedom of action and privacy. However, I quickly became accustomed to my new living conditions, and on balance, I found that I enjoyed living as part of a family.
That thought evoked memories of growing up in the house, and I remembered all the happy times I'd spent with my grandparents and godparents. Some of the best memories included the last major vacation we'd had, shortly before Grandad died. We'd spent Christmas in Barbados, renting a beachside villa with my godparents, and that experience was something I wanted to share with my new family.
With that in mind, I decided to speak with Aunt Anne and Uncle Geoffrey before I made any definite plans. So as not to spoil any surprise for my brothers, I left them at home with Stephane, telling them that I wanted to see my godparents about a private matter. Of course, they were curious, so I invoked Rule Two.
"I've been thinking about the last Christmas before Grandad died," I told my godparents as we drank coffee in their living room. "When we all went to Barbados and had a great time, and it was one of the best vacations I remember."
"Yes," Aunt Anne said wistfully, "it was one of the last occasions when we all spent so much time together."
"I thought it might be good for Liam and Connor if we did that this year," I said. "And as my Christmas present to you two, I'll pay for the villa rental and first-class flights."
"The boys are old enough now to be able to appreciate the experience, so I think it's a great idea," Uncle Geoffrey said, smiling. "There's plenty of time to make arrangements with work, but you'd better book the villa soon, or there won't be any available. And you'll have to let us pay for all the food and excursions."
"And don't forget passports for the boys," Aunt Anne said.
"That's already in hand," I replied with a self-satisfied grin.
"I presume Stephane will be coming with us," my godfather said in a serious tone. "I don't wish to seem indelicate, but same-sex relationships are very much disapproved of in Barbados, and I think it may even be illegal. So you should make sure the villa has a bedroom for him or at least his own bed. The maids might notice if you share a bed."
I was embarrassed and stunned, not so much because he knew about me and Stephane as by the fact that he'd spoken about it so openly. Both of my godparents were studying me closely, clearly a little concerned about how I might react.
"You know about us, then?" I asked, blushing slightly but returning their gaze with a determination to at least appear to be self-confident.
"Of course, dear," Aunt Anne replied gently. "We've known you all your life, and it's pretty obvious that you're in love."
Although the situation initially made me feel uncomfortable, it was a relief to know that I no longer had to hide my relationship with Stephane from any of the people who were closest to me. With a mutual unspoken consent, all three of us quickly moved on to discussing the practical details of our proposed vacation.
When I returned home and presented the holiday plans to Stephane and my brothers, there were mixed reactions. Although Liam and Connor were excited and delighted by the prospect of their first ever overseas holiday, especially travelling by plane, they were a little disappointed that they wouldn't be spending Christmas at home. However, when I reassured them that apart from being warm and sunny, it would be a very traditional Christmas with presents as usual, they quickly became more enthusiastic.
Connor became especially eager when I mentioned that he could go sailing, but Stephane appeared to be more reluctant than I'd expected. At first, I thought that he wanted to spend the special holiday with his family, so apart from expressing my disappointment that he didn't want to join us on our special family vacation, I didn't try to put any pressure on him. It was only later, when we were cuddling together in bed, that he told me the real reason for his reluctance.
"I know you think of us all as a family…" he began.
"We are a family," I asserted strongly, surprised by his words. "You may not be related by blood, but neither are Anne and Geoffrey. There's more to family than genetics. We all live together as a family, and I thought you felt that Connor and Liam were like your little brothers."
"I do feel like that," he protested.
"I understand if you'd rather spend Christmas with your real family," I said.
"Of course, I'd like to spend Christmas with them, but I'd prefer to spend it with you," he replied.
"It's a pity they live so far away and that you feel you have to choose where to be for the holidays," I said sympathetically. "Maybe you could alternate…"
"It's not that," he interrupted me. "I can visit them anytime, and I already said that I prefer to spend Christmas with you, and the idea of spending more than a week apart isn't attractive. I'm just not comfortable with the expense."
"I told you I'll pay for everything," I reminded him.
"That's the point," he said, obviously frustrated. "Sometimes I feel like I'm a kept man."
"We've had this discussion before," I said and sighed. "We're partners, and we share. We're all family, and we don't add up the value of the things we do. We certainly don't need to compare our contributions. When you take Connor to a football match or give Liam a guitar lesson, you don't think about what that's worth. Connor doesn't expect rewards for making cakes. We all share."
"Well," he said hesitantly, "I don't want to feel like your toyboy."
"I certainly couldn't afford to pay for those services," I teased as I ran my hand from his chest, over his abdomen and towards his groin. "Anyway, you're older than me, so wouldn't I be your toyboy?"
We set aside the discussion and made love before drifting off to sleep with limbs intertwined. The following morning, having had time to consider the situation, he agreed that he really did want to spend the Christmas holidays with me and his new family.
A few days later, Uncle Geoffrey called and asked me to arrange a time to meet him and Aunt Anne at their house because they wished to see me about a 'personal matter'. Of course, I was intrigued and arranged to see them the following evening as soon as Stephane had returned from work and we'd had our evening meal. When I arrived at their house, Aunt Anne offered me a drink, which I declined. Then she ushered me into the living room, where Uncle Geoffrey was waiting.
"When you were a boy…" he began.
"That doesn't seem very long ago," Aunt Anne said wistfully.
"When you were twelve," he began again, frowning at his wife, "Richard asked us to store something and if he wasn't around, to give it to you when you started your own family. Anne and I have discussed this, and we believe that adopting your brothers can be considered as starting a family, though it may not have been exactly what your grandfather had in mind."
He went over to the dresser, picked up a metal box, and handed it to me. It was a little larger than a shoebox, quite heavy, appeared to be very sturdy, and was secured by a combination lock. Taped on top of the box was a sealed manila envelope.
"I don't know the combination," Uncle Geoffrey said, "but I'm guessing that it will be in the envelope."
"What is it?" I asked.
"We don't know," Aunt Anne replied, "though we've obviously speculated."
"And there's no point in us mentioning any speculations," he said pointedly to his wife, "because Paul will be able to see for himself. Then it's up to him if he wants to share the information."
When I returned home, Liam immediately came rushing to greet me, but when he saw what I was carrying, he stopped in his tracks.
"What's that?" he asked.
"It's a box."
"Yeah, but what's in it?"
"I don't know. I've not looked inside."
He looked at me as if he thought I was a little crazy, then he called out to Stephane and Connor.
"Paul's got a box, but he says he doesn't know what's in it," he announced loudly as he grabbed my arm and pulled me to the kitchen, where my boyfriend was unloading the dishwasher .
Connor came out of the parlour where he'd been doing his homework and followed us. When all four of us were in the kitchen, they looked at me expectantly, not needing to give voice to their obvious curiosity. I felt that I should give them some sort of explanation, but even my godparents didn't know what was in the box, and the contents were obviously intended to be private.
"Grandad left this box with Uncle Geoffrey and asked him to give it to me when I had a family of my own," I said. "Apparently, adopting my brothers counts as having my own family."
"Open it now," Liam demanded.
"It's probably personal and private, and I think it's better to wait until I know what it is before deciding to share it with you," I replied. "As Grandad wanted to wait until I was grown up before opening it, it may not be suitable for children."
"You mean like porn?" Connor asked.
"I seriously doubt that it's porn," I said, smiling and shaking my head. "Anyway, I'll open it in private, but I promise that I'll tell you what it is if I think it's something you should know."
Several times during the rest of the evening, Liam made various unsuccessful attempts to persuade me to allow him to watch me open the box. Connor, who was clearly also curious about the contents, didn't support his little brother's pleas and, at one point, even suggested that perhaps some things may be better kept secret. That made me wonder if Connor himself might be keeping some secrets.
"I think I'll have an early night," I said to Stephane soon after my brothers had gone to bed.
"If you're going to open the box now, maybe I should stay down here for a bit to give you some privacy," he suggested with an understanding smile.
"Actually, I'm not sure when or even if I want to open it," I replied, frowning doubtfully. "After all, I've lived my whole life quite happily not knowing whatever's inside it."
"But your grandfather obviously thought it was important, and be honest, you'd die of curiosity if you left it unopened for too long."
"Yeah, of course you're right as usual ," I replied with a wry smile. "I'll open it tonight, but I'd really like you to be with me when I do, just in case I need your moral support."
We went upstairs and sat on the bed with the box between us, and Stephane leaned across, putting a supportive arm over my shoulders as I opened the envelope. Inside was a letter from my grandad.
I handed the letter to Stephane for him to read while I opened the box. Inside, there was another envelope as well as some photos and a couple of newspaper clippings. There was one particular boy in all of the photos, and my initial impression was that he looked very much like me. Clearly, in order to solve the puzzle of who he might be, I needed to read the document inside the envelope.
Bewildered and a little stunned, I handed the document to Stephane and took a closer look at the other contents of the box. The photos were obviously taken over a period of time during which the boy, presumably Simon, aged from about ten to early teens. In some of the photos, he was with my mother when she was a girl and a teenager. When I'd first glimpsed the pictures, I'd thought the boy looked very much like me. However, despite the strong resemblance, there were a few differences. For example, the boy had a higher forehead, and his hair was straighter and a lighter shade of blond than mine.
One particularly striking photo that looked most like me was of a smiling Simon standing upright and proud in his Linchester Grammar school uniform. I presumed it had been taken just before or just after he'd started at the school, so he would have been eleven years old. The newspaper clippings were reports of his death and of the coroner's inquest.
Suddenly, I found myself crying gently, prompting Stephane to push aside the box between us and pull me into a comforting hug. Regardless of any relationship Simon might have had to me, his death was tragic, and the photos, combined with information from my grandfather, made it seem very immediate and personal. The thought of what happened to Simon upset me deeply.
When I ran out of tears and got up to get some tissues, Stephane finished reading the document and began looking through the contents of the box.
"Maybe it would've been better if your grandfather hadn't left this box for you," he suggested when I returned to sit next to him. "After all, as Simon and your mother aren't alive, we'll never know if he was your father. So all this is upsetting you for nothing."
"It's better to know," I asserted.
"The point is that you don't really know, but is it so terrible not knowing who your father really is? After all, Liam and Connor don't know, and they don't seem to be bothered by that."
There was a long pause while I considered his words, and I realised that he had a point. After all, apart from mild curiosity, I'd previously been perfectly happy not knowing the identity of my father. However, somewhat irrationally, I also felt a little resentful that the point was made by someone who'd always known his father.
"Maybe if I could find his parents, I could get DNA and find out if he was my father," I said eventually.
"Even if they're still alive and if you could find them," he said gently, "it's likely that they wouldn't let you have a DNA sample. After all, being religious, would they want to add an illegitimate child to the list of what, in their minds, would be their son's transgressions? And, knowing what sort of people they are, would you really want them as your grandparents?"
"So you're telling me that I shouldn't try and find out for sure," I replied a little petulantly.
"I'm definitely not telling you what you should or shouldn't do," he soothed, "but I'd advise that you don't pursue it, at least not until you've had a lot more time to think about things. Just asking for a DNA sample could trigger unhappy memories and cause them a lot of hurt. And if Simon wasn't your father, all the trouble and hurt would be for nothing."
Although I could see the logic in what he said, I was still reluctant to abandon the idea.
"But there are so many things I'd like to know," I said plaintively. "Like, did he love my mother, or was it a one-off, and did he kill himself because he'd got her pregnant? Did my mother abandon me because she associated me with his death, or was she just ashamed?"
"It seems like you're already assuming that he's your father," Stephane pointed out patiently. "But apart from the physical resemblance and timing of his death, there's really no other evidence. In fact, don't you think it's unlikely that an average sixteen-year-old girl would be attracted to a fourteen-year-old boy?"
"I don't know," I replied, frowning.
"And even if you found his parents and proved Simon was your father, they couldn't answer any of your questions. They couldn't even accept that he killed himself."
"I guess you're right," I conceded. "Maybe it's better to let sleeping dogs lie."
"Anyway, what will you tell Connor and Liam about what's in the box?" he asked.
"I suppose there were good reasons for my grandparents not to tell me all this when I was a kid, so I don't think my brothers could really understand it all now," I replied thoughtfully. "But I should tell them something, so maybe I'll just give them an outline and emphasise that it's really just speculation. And I'm sure that Liam will want to see the photos, but I won't let them see the things relating to suicide."
"That sounds like a reasonable plan," he said approvingly, pulling me into a hug and planting a kiss on my forehead.
We continued sitting together in silence and holding each other for a couple of minutes, and then I felt the need to find comfort and to distract myself from the sadness of Simon's tragedy. Instead of being sad about a death in the past, I wanted to enjoy looking forward to the future. Instead of thinking about a possible dead father, I wanted to relish having my brothers and my boyfriend.
"Do you want a massage?" I asked. To make my intentions clear, I added, "With baby oil."
"Yes, please," he replied, smiling and with a twinkle in his eye.
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