The Marshalls
by Kit
Chapter 3
When Will and John got to the kitchen, Mike, Connor, and Liam were already there and all talking at once. Sarah and David were just watching and smiling, waiting for the hubbub to die down naturally. However, as soon as the three talking boys noticed Will and John come into the room, they fell silent. Before introductions could be made, two young adults appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Mike, we've taken your bike off the rack and put it by the front door," the blond young man said.
"Thanks, Paul," the red-haired boy replied. "I'll put it away after tea."
Immediately, David began making introductions. As Will had deduced, one of the two newly arrived young men was Paul, who had deep blue eyes and curly, golden hair. The other was Stephane, who was very slim and had short dark brown hair and brown eyes. Both were about six feet tall, with Stephane being slightly taller.
"Now that there are two sets of brothers in the family," David quipped to his wife, "I suppose that we can no longer refer to just 'the brothers'. "It will have to be 'the Cooper brothers' and 'the Marshall brothers'."
When Will's full name was revealed, Stephane smiled broadly and appeared to be amused.
"Is there something funny about my name?" Will asked, irritated by the possibility that the other man was making fun of him.
"No, of course not," Stephane protested. "It just reminded me of a dissertation I wrote at uni. It was about my favourite mediaeval Anglo-French historical figure, William Marshal, first Earl of Pembroke. Guillaume le Maréchal was one of my heroes when I was growing up and started getting interested in history."
"Oh, okay, right," Will said, mollified and a little embarrassed.
Will and John, who definitely looked like brothers, were surprised when Connor and Liam were introduced as Paul's brothers. Physically, the three of them appeared to have nothing in common. Connor, who had light brown hair and pale blue eyes, was well built and tall for his eleven years of age. Eight-year-old Liam had short wavy black hair and golden-brown skin. His most notable feature, though, was the amber colour of his eyes.
John was happy to discover that Mike was indeed the boy whom he'd been hoping to see here. Suddenly the idea of living in the foster home became less unappealing. For the previous couple of years, Mike had caught John's attention, not only because of the bright red colour of his hair but also because of the air of mystery that seemed to surround him.
Apart from one particular girl, the redhead didn't allow anyone to get close to him at school. Whenever John had seen him, Mike had always appeared to be melancholy, and overlaid on that there was often a smouldering anger. Anyone who dared to approach him usually received a glare that made them have second thoughts, so John had never even tried to talk to him.
While the new arrivals were unpacking bags and putting various items on the kitchen counters, John's mind was occupied with thoughts about Mike. He'd noticed that over the past few months Mike's attitude had changed a little, and though he was by no means sociable, he no longer seemed so intent on avoiding interactions with others. He'd also hit a growth spurt, but he was still smaller than most of the other boys in his year.
When John had been introduced, everyone had obviously already noticed his bruised face, but they were all careful not to comment on it. However, once the flurry of activity had begun to die down, John noticed the other boys trying not to stare at him. Wanting to forestall any questions, he decided to be the first to bring the matter up.
"I got mugged," he said, trying to give the impression that it was a matter of no importance.
"Mike," Sarah said, trying to divert attention away from the topic. "While we get food sorted and set the table, you can give John a tour of the upstairs."
"Okay," Mike agreed, recognising from her tone that it was a command and not a request.
John followed the redhead through the living room and up the stairs to a hallway with five doors.
"That's David and Sarah's room," Mike said, pointing to one of the doors, "and next to that is a little room for Susie."
"This is our bathroom," the redhead said, opening another door and allowing John to look inside. "David, Sarah, and Susie have their own bathroom."
Next, Mike pointed out his own room, issuing a dire warning never to go inside unless specifically invited. He pointed out a small set of stairs that he said led up to a bedroom in the attic. Then he led the way through an open doorway into a room that contained bunk beds.
"This was Connor's and Liam's room," he said. "If you want my advice, don't ask for the attic room. It has a proper bed, but the room's a lot smaller."
"I'll take your advice, thanks," John said, a little surprised that Mike was being friendly, albeit in an offhand way. "I've always had bunk beds."
As they left the room, Mike stopped, looked the other boy in the eyes, and said, "I know what it's like, you know."
John was surprised by this apparent show of empathy, which was something he hadn't expected from the Mike he'd seen at school. Before the older boy could ask what exactly the redhead had meant, Mike had started going back downstairs. When they reached the kitchen, the table was already laden with food, and some people, including Will, were already sitting down. As John took the seat next to his brother, David asked the children what they wanted to drink, offering a choice of juices or water.
"We should have fizzy pop," Liam said.
"That's for special occasions like birthdays," David replied.
"This is a special occasion," Connor pointed out. "It's the first time we've met John and Will."
"Good point," the man acknowledged. "Of course it's special."
The meal was very informal, with a selection of different foods, and each person chose what to put on their own plate. While they ate, everyone was chatting about anything and everything. Liam asked John if he'd seen the garden yet, and when he said that he hadn't, the little boy said that he'd show him around later.
Most of the conversations involved topics or people that John and Will were unfamiliar with, and both of them felt somewhat out of place. Mike told David and Sarah what a great weekend he'd had, cycling, running, and camping out on Paul's lawn. Liam announced that he'd been learning to play Stephane's guitar. David asked Stephane about his summer job and his baby niece.
Having been to university and now working in a large firm, Will was accustomed to meeting new people and dealing with large groups of strangers. However, John, whose only experience of a family meal had been eating with his big brother, found this new experience a little intimidating, and he was glad that Will was sitting next to him. The Marshall brothers mostly remained silent except when spoken to directly.
Paul asked Will where he lived, and when he was told, he declared that it was only a few minutes' drive from his own house. That exchange encouraged Will to ask Paul a little about himself and what he did for a living.
"Oh, I'm still sort of looking for the right job," Paul replied evasively. As if to waylay any follow-up question, he asked, "What about you?"
"I'm an accountant. Well, actually, it'll be quite some time before I'm fully qualified."
"Oh, what firm are you with?" Paul asked with genuine interest.
"MCS, one of the biggest in the city," Will said proudly. "It used to be Matthews, Cooper, and Smith, but they rebranded it a couple of years ago. Maybe you've heard of it."
"Yes, I've heard of it," the blond young man replied with a smile. "Do you know Anne Walker?"
"Not directly. She's the boss of my supervisor's boss." In an attempt at humour, he continued, "I've heard that she's so bossy that even some of the partners are a bit scared of her."
"Anne Walker?" Connor said, having overheard the last part of the conversation. Turning to Paul, he asked, "Isn't that Aunt Anne?"
"She's your aunt?" Will asked, taken aback. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offence. It's just office gossip."
"She's not really my aunt. She's my godmother," Paul explained. "I've known her all my life, and I've always called her 'aunt'. I'm sure she already knows the office gossip and is proud of her reputation."
"And she's sometimes bossy," Connor added, "but she's very nice."
"Does anyone want cake?" Sarah asked when everyone had stopped helping themselves to the savoury items on the table.
"I presume that's a rhetorical question," David replied in an amused tone.
"I made it," Connor announced proudly. "It's chocolate and cherry with cream."
When the cake was served, both Will and John were amazed that it looked and tasted better than any cake they'd ever had. Although it was large, it didn't take long before it was all gone. Half joking, David commented that he was hoping some might have been left over for the following day.
"Don't worry, I made some fairy cakes as well," Connor said. "I put them in a cake tin so you can have them for tea tomorrow."
After the meal, Connor and Mike disappeared upstairs. Liam took Will and John outside to give them a guided tour of the garden. The small boy, who demonstrated that he knew a lot about plants, appeared to be very proud of what he referred to as a 'little garden'. Neither of the brothers had lived anywhere that had any sort of garden, and this didn't seem to them to be particularly small.
Later, when Will thanked Sarah for the meal and announced that he and his brother were leaving, she asked him if he and John would have a quick chat with her in the office. Feeling a little trepidation, as if he'd been called to see the headmaster at school, he agreed. Leaving her husband with the other guests, she led the brothers to the room adjacent to the kitchen.
"I want to apologise for our mistake" she began, addressing both of them. "David and I invited you to visit when we were having a family meal because we wanted you to feel that you're part of the family. However, now we realise that meeting so many strangers all at once may have made you uncomfortable. Anyway, we're sorry about that."
"That's okay," Will replied, feeling a little embarrassed.
"I don't understand how they're all part of the same family," John said with a puzzled frown. "Like, Paul's not related to Mike."
"For us, family aren't just blood relatives," she explained. "Mike is the foster brother of Liam and Connor, who are the brothers of Paul. So you might think of Paul as Mike's foster brother once removed. Also, we consider close friends to be like family, and Paul's our good friend."
"So when I live here," John mused, "Mike will be my foster brother."
"Of course," she replied. "And I'm sure you know that sometimes it's not always easy to get on with siblings. It often requires patience and understanding to get through rough patches."
When John and his brother left the house, Will noticed a bicycle rack attached to the rear of an S-Class Mercedes and thought that it looked rather incongruous.
When Paul and Stephane were in bed that night, cuddling together and unwinding after a busy weekend, they talked about Mike's visit.
"He's changed a lot in the past few months," Paul said. "I occasionally got the feeling that he might actually start trusting me."
"If he trusts anyone, I'm pretty sure it's Connor. I doubt that he trusts me, and sometimes I get the feeling that he just tolerates me. What's more important, can we trust him not to blab about me and you sharing a bedroom?"
"He may never trust anyone completely, but eventually, he'll probably get to trust you at least a little. As for blabbing about us, I'm pretty sure that he's kept so many secrets for so many years that it's his default mode," Paul said. When Stephane didn't seem to be totally convinced, he continued, "Remember that I told you about when I was just getting to know my brothers and they used the terms 'brother promise' and 'brother secret'?"
"Yes, I remember."
"They believe that promises and secrets between brothers are very special, and when they specify something as a 'brother promise', or a 'brother secret', then it's like taking a sacred oath. Others might break promises or betray secrets, but in an often hostile world, they could always rely on their brother. And I was very proud when they trusted me enough to include me."
"Of course you were," Stephane said, "and I must admit I'm sometimes a bit jealous."
"We have our lover promises and lover secrets that are just as sacred. I think that you're already included in my brothers' circle of trust, but even if you're not yet completely inside the circle, I'm sure that you soon will be."
"But what's all this to do with Mike not telling people about us?"
"He worked out for himself that we're a couple long before he came to stay for the weekend, and Connor was the only person he mentioned his suspicions to. By that time, they'd become friends, and Mike was aware of how special brother promises and secrets were. He asked my brothers if he could have special foster brother secrets and promises with them.
"Connor and Liam asked me what I thought about that, and I told them it was up to them to decide if they trusted Mike enough. Connor said he did, and Liam's still considering it. Anyway, long story short, Mike made a foster brother promise to Connor that he'd keep secret anything he knows or suspects about us."
Stephane felt sorry for Mike, but he wished that the boy's behaviour didn't make him such a difficult person to like. Connor and Mike clearly got along well now, but from what Stephane had heard, they'd started off on very unfriendly terms. That made him wonder how Mike would get on with the new boy in the foster home.
"The new kid, John, is a similar age to Mike," he said, "so hopefully, it won't be long before they become friends."
"Hopefully," Paul agreed. "John's obviously had a bad time of it recently. Apparently he spent a week in hospital, and even now he looks very battered and bruised. I noticed he occasionally winces, so I guess things are still painful for him."
"I hope they catch the muggers," Stephane said angrily. "What sort of bastards would do that to a kid?"
"You know," Paul replied contemplatively, "maybe it's just a big coincidence, but John was taken into care immediately after being attacked. It makes me wonder if it was really a mugging. Maybe someone beat him up, and social services decided he wasn't safe where he was."
"Well, if someone beat him up, it can't have been his brother," Stephane said, "If Will had done it, he wouldn't have been allowed in the foster home."
"And I can't believe that a guy as dishy as Will would hurt his little brother."
"Dishy?" Stephane exclaimed in mock outrage, gently punching Paul's upper arm.
"Yeah, but obviously, he's not as attractive and sexy as you."
A few days later, Paul was given a metal box that his grandfather had left with Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Anne. His godparents didn't know what was in it, and they told him that there was no point in them sharing any speculations they might have because he'd soon know for himself. When he returned home with the box, his brothers were intensely curious.
After he admitted he didn't know what was inside, they wanted him to open it immediately. However, he told the boys that he wanted to open it in private because it might be something personal. Connor joked that perhaps his older brother wanted privacy in case the box contained porn.
After Liam and Connor had gone to bed, Paul asked Stephane to be with him when he opened the box, inside which was a letter, some photos, and some newspaper cuttings. When he read the letter, he discovered that the contents of the box related to his grandparents' suspicions about who his father might be.
As a young boy, Paul had asked his grandparents if they knew who his father was, but they truthfully told him that they didn't. However, they didn't tell him that they had a suspicion who it might be. That was because it was all speculation and involved things they believed that only an adult would understand. The person they thought might be his father was a younger friend of their daughter, Mary.
The photos in the box were of a boy who looked very much like Paul at the same age, and apparently there were other similarities. As Paul had grown, his grandparents had seen that their grandson had much in common with the boy, Simon. Both were athletic, skilled swimmers, intelligent, and they had similar temperaments.
The letter and cuttings told Simon's tragic story. Suspected of being gay, he'd been sent away to a Christian summer camp, and when he returned, his bright, happy personality had become dulled. His academic grades dropped drastically, and he lost interest in sports. Shortly after Mary's pregnancy became obvious, Simon had hanged himself, and his parents had left town.
While Paul and Stephane were preparing breakfast on the morning after opening the box, Liam and Connor came into the kitchen.
"What was in the box?" the older boy asked.
"Good morning to you, too," Paul replied.
"Oh, yeah. Good morning. So, what was in the box?"
"There wasn't any porn."
"I was only joking about that," Connor said, rolling his eyes.
"It was a letter about who my grandparents thought might be my dad."
"Is that all?" Connor asked, clearly disappointed.
"There were some photos as well," Paul replied, deliberately not mentioning the newspaper clippings.
Liam, who'd shared Connor's disappointment, now showed more interest.
"Can we see them?" he asked eagerly.
"The letter's private, but you can see the photos."
"That's what I meant," the little boy said in a tone that implied only an idiot would think he'd be interested in a letter.
"Okay, but you need to hurry up and have breakfast and go to school. You can look at them when you get home."
"Where are the pictures you promised to let us see?" Liam asked as soon as he got inside the house after school.
Paul, who'd been expecting this, handed over a small cardboard box into which he'd placed the photos. Liam went to sit on the sofa in the living room, and Connor, pretending that he wasn't really interested, went to sit beside him. The little boy opened the box and immediately complained that there were only a few photos. A few minutes later, Liam and Connor joined Paul and Stephane in the kitchen.
"He looks like you," Liam said. "I think he could be your dad."
"But he's too young," Connor said, "so I don't think he is."
"Most of the photos were taken when he was younger," Paul pointed out. "But you're right. Fifteen is too young to be a father."
"Don't you have any pictures of him when he was old, like you are now?" Liam asked.
"I'm not old," Paul protested, ignoring Stephane's smirk. "Anyway, I don't have any other photos."
"Do you know where he is now?" Connor asked. "You said his name's Simon, so if you know his last name, you can look for him."
"He died before I was born."
"Maybe he's in a nice garden like Mum," Liam said, injecting a hopeful note into his sadness.
"Maybe," Paul agreed.
Later, while Connor was doing homework and Stephane was showing Liam some basic guitar chords, Paul phoned his godmother.
"Geoffrey and I suspected it might be something like that," she said when he told her what had been in the box. "Your grandfather occasionally speculated about it, but your grandmother discouraged it and wasn't very happy when he did."
"I showed the photos to my brothers. Liam seems to think Simon could have been my father, but Connor thinks he was too young."
"You didn't tell them how he died, did you?" she asked.
"Of course not. I just said that he died before I was born," he reassured her. After a brief pause, he added, "Liam said that maybe Simon was in a nice garden like our mum."
"That's typical of Liam," she said fondly. "He's the nicest, sweetest little boy I ever met."
"Even nicer than I was?" Paul teased.
"Even nicer and much sweeter."
"Do you happen to know if he was cremated or if he has a grave somewhere?" Paul asked in a more serious tone.
"No, I'm afraid not. His parents never came back to our church after the boy died, and they disappeared immediately after the inquest. If there was a funeral, they didn't invite anyone I know," she replied. "In any case, why do you ask? I thought that you didn't think there was any point in visiting graves."
"Maybe I'm beginning to change my opinion after visiting the memorial garden with my brothers. It certainly seems to make them feel better."
In the days following his first visit to the foster home and meeting Mike in person, John's mood switched frequently between apprehension and anticipation. Will tried to be as supportive as possible, but his brother seemed reluctant to discuss his feelings. On the evening before the move to the foster home, John was particularly quiet until just before they went to bed.
"If I tell you something," the boy said hesitantly, "will you promise to keep it secret? I don't want you to tell anyone, ever, and especially not police or social services."
"Yes, I promise."
"Dad broke my phone and beat me up. I couldn't get away, so I pretended to be unconscious so he'd stop. Then I ran out and tried to go to the bus station and find a public phone so that I could call you, but I couldn't." John said quickly, seemingly all in one breath, the words running into one another.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Will said, going to sit next to his brother on the sofa and gently putting an arm over his shoulder. Then, as anger began to rise, he added, "But I don't understand why you don't want anyone to know. The bastard should be locked up."
"As long as I never have to see him again, I want to forget it. I don't want to give details to strangers, especially not evidence in court," the boy said, giving his big brother a pleading look.
"Okay, but why did he do it? I mean, he's a drunk and an evil bastard, but what he did to you is extreme, even for him."
"He, erm, found something on my phone," John said, looking down and blushing with embarrassment.
"Porn, I presume?" Will guessed. "Maybe that'd explain breaking the phone, but surely even he wouldn't think it justifies beating you up."
As their father had rarely shown any interest in John, Will wondered why he'd decided to look at the phone.
"Not porn," the boy said hesitantly and very quietly, keeping his gaze averted. "But it was, erm, gay stuff… and he saw the photos of Mum."
"Oh," the older brother said, knowing how extremely homophobic their father was. "But that doesn't excuse what he did."
John remained silent, eyes closed, and although the room was warm, he was shivering slightly.
"Well, maybe I can understand why you don't want everyone else to know, but why didn't you tell me?" Will asked.
"He said I was disgusting and that you agreed with him that queers are disgusting," John mumbled, then he looked up at his brother, fearful of his reaction. "Do you?
"Of course I don't! And I don't know why Dad would say that. Maybe he was lying or was too drunk to know what he was saying."
For several years, Will had rarely spoken to his father at all, and he certainly wouldn't have discussed anything sexual, least of all homosexuality.
"Look, John," Will said quietly, feeling somewhat guilty, "I never said that being gay was disgusting. I've never even thought it, but I might have agreed with Dad that the idea of anal sex does make me feel a bit, erm, uncomfortable. But I feel the same about the idea of anal sex with a girlfriend, so it's not about it being gay. And I certainly wouldn't think you were disgusting for being gay."
"But you'd think I was disgusting if I ever wanted to do, erm, bum sex," his little brother said, expressing it as a statement but intending it as a question.
"No, of course not! There are lots of things I'd find disgusting to do, like eating insects, but that doesn't mean a person who eats insects is disgusting, at least as long as I don't have to see them doing it," Will said. Then, reminded of one of his pet peeves and wanting to lighten the mood a little, he added, "And what sort of pervert decided to put disgusting kidneys into a perfectly good steak pie?"
John smiled briefly, but his expression quickly returned to a doubtful frown, giving Will the feeling that he needed to reinforce his point.
"Some of the most disgusting things I ever experienced were what I saw and smelled when I had to change your dirty nappies. Sometimes what you, erm, produced made me nauseous, but I never, ever, thought you, my little baby brother, were disgusting. No matter what you do, I love you too much to think you're disgusting."
The boy leaned into Will, rested his head on his big brother's chest, and almost cried with relief. After a couple of minutes, his back began to ache, so he sat up straight, but that movement caused a stab of pain in his ribs. Will felt his brother's body freeze and stiffen.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and guessing the likely cause, he added, "Are your ribs hurting again?"
"Only when I breathe," John said, trying to make a joke about the situation.
"It's a big day tomorrow, and you need a good night's sleep, so you should take a couple of those painkillers before you go to bed."
Despite the medication, John found it hard to sleep, and when he did manage to do so, he had a terrifying nightmare. In it, he was lying on the ground in total darkness, hiding from some monster that he couldn't see or hear. However, he knew the monster wanted to harm him, and he could sense it getting closer. Then he could tell it had found him, so he tried to scream and run away, but he was paralysed and could do neither. Instead, he woke up whimpering and twitching.
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