Gran's House
by Kit
Chapter 14
After signing the documents at Uncle Geoffrey's office, I returned home and went online to look for running shoes. Fortunately, my own preferred brand was available in size five, and I ordered a pair that were charcoal grey with green markings. By paying for a premium delivery option, I was able to specify delivery for Wednesday morning.
On arriving at my godparents' house, they gave me a birthday card and a bread-making machine as my present. Aunt Anne said that she'd got one a few months ago and now couldn't imagine life without it. When I showed them the card and present that my brothers had given me, Aunt Anne became a little tearful, and even Uncle Geoffrey seemed impressed. Before having pre-dinner drinks, I asked them if they'd mind if I phoned my brothers.
"Yes, of course, dear," Aunt Anne replied, "we can all have a birthday chat with them. In fact, they can watch you blowing out the candle and cutting the cake."
"But the cake is usually our dessert," I pointed out. "By the time we've eaten dinner, the boys will be getting ready for bed."
"Pish!," she replied. "I said cut the cake, not eat it."
When I made the call, it took longer than usual for my brothers to pick up.
"You're on the phone," Connor grumbled. "You usually call our laptop."
"I'm at my godparents' house," I explained, "so it's easier just to use the phones."
I swivelled my phone around so that they could see Aunt Anne and Uncle Geoffrey.
"Hello, dears," she said with a little wave, while her husband just smiled and held up his hand.
"The present you gave Paul was really lovely," Aunt Anne said.
"He said you'd be jealous," Liam said with his customary openness, making me feel a little embarrassed.
"I am," she confirmed. "You're such kind and thoughtful boys."
"When're your birthdays?" Connor asked.
"Mine is in January, and Geoffrey's is in February," she replied.
"Oh, so ages to go yet," he said, sounding slightly disappointed.
"Paul said you were giving him a cake," Liam said. "Can we see it?"
"Of course you can, sweetie," she replied. "Just a minute, and I'll just go and get it."
She went to the kitchen and came back with the cake, putting it on the dining table. It was covered in white icing and had 'Happy 21st Birthday, Paul' in blue icing written on it. Even before cutting into it, I knew that it would be a vanilla sponge with French buttercream filling. That was what Gran and then Aunt Anne had always made for my birthday.
"It's only got one candle," Liam pointed out.
"Twenty-one candles might set the house on fire," Uncle Geoffrey joked.
"And Paul may not have enough puff to blow out so many candles," the older boy quipped.
Pretending to be insulted, I pulled a face at him. Aunt Anne lit the candle, and they all sang 'Happy Birthday'. In order to hide my blushes, I handed the phone to Uncle Geoffrey and bent over to blow out the candle. With Uncle Geoffrey as cameraman, my godmother instructed me to cut the cake so that the boys could see what was inside. It was exactly as I'd expected.
"That looks nice," Connor said. Seeing me set aside the cake, he added, "Aren't you going to taste it?"
"We'll have it after dinner," Aunt Anne said.
"Will you save any for us?" Liam asked cheekily.
"Well, even in the fridge it will only last about four days," she pointed out.
"That's okay," he replied, "we're seeing him tomorrow. And we can stay overnight."
"You never told us that," she accused me.
"Today's been pretty hectic. I was going to tell you during dinner," I said. "Liam, I'll see you tomorrow, but I haven't arranged anything definite with David and Sarah yet about staying overnight."
During dinner, I also told my godparents that the boys would stay with me in August while their foster carers would be taking a well-earned break.
"If the boys are staying for a few days sometime," Aunt Anne said, "you must bring them round for dinner."
"I'd be happy to bring them round, but I'm not sure about dinner."
"Why not?" she asked, frowning.
"By the time you get home from work and prepare food, it can be quite late when we finish eating. The boys would then need to get home and get ready for bed, and they can't stay up too late."
"Surely they can go to bed later while they're on holiday," she replied, "and if it's a weekend, we can have dinner earlier."
"There's, erm, another thing," I said hesitantly. "We usually have drinks before dinner and during the meal…"
"Of course they won't be allowed alcohol," she interrupted me.
"The thing is that my brothers were told that their mum died because she drank too much alcohol, and now they, and especially Liam, are afraid that if other people they love drink alcohol, they may lose them, too."
"You should explain to them about responsible drinking," she said.
"Liam's only just turned seven, and it's only about six months since his mother died, so I'm not sure that he'll really understand that. Even more important is that his fear is based on an emotional reaction, so I doubt that a logical discussion about responsible drinking will fix that."
"Well, as he gets older and more mature, he'll probably understand better."
"Yes, but until then I don't want him to be distressed by seeing us drinking."
"How about just a glass of wine with the meal?" Uncle Geoffrey suggested.
"Maybe," I replied, "but I don't want to deprive you of your traditional pleasure, and I don't want to risk upsetting Liam, so perhaps it'd be better all round if they come here for lunch or tea rather than dinner."
Uncle Geoffrey seemed satisfied with that idea, but his wife didn't seem so happy.
When I arrived at the foster home the next morning, my brothers had already asked David about a possible overnight stay at my house. He'd told them that it was too short notice, thereby saving me from taking the brunt of their disappointment. Fortunately, the fact that I'd brought my birthday cake with more than three-quarters of it remaining also made them feel better.
"Because of the filling," I told David as I put it on the kitchen table, "this should be kept in the fridge and eaten within two days."
"Surely you know by now," he said, smiling and raising an eyebrow, "the chance of a cake lasting more than two days in this house is pretty negligible. In fact, I'd be surprised if it lasts until teatime ."
Shortly after my arrival, the whole family gathered in the kitchen for their midmorning snack. As David had predicted, most of the cake had disappeared within a few minutes. Before leaving with my brothers, it was agreed that I bring them back before teatime and pick them up again after lunch on Wednesday. Then they could stay with me until Saturday morning.
Instead of going directly to the house, I drove us into the city so that the boys could choose new duvet covers and other items that would be required for their visit. They decided to have lunch at McDonald's before we went home.
"When can we go camping?" Connor asked when we started discussing how we'd spend the rest of the day.
"Well, first we need to check out the tents and see if they're still usable."
We went down to the basement and found the tents stored away at the far end.
"Why d'ya have two tents?" Connor asked.
"I stopped using the older one when I was fifteen, and I bought a newer one that was a bit bigger and easier to set up."
Having brought them upstairs and unpacked them in the conservatory, it was obvious that both smelled a little musty, especially the older of the two.
"They're a bit smelly," Liam commented, wrinkling his nose.
"It's been a couple of years since I used the newer one and almost six years since I used the old one. Let's open them out and set them out as much as possible in here, then see if we can get rid of the smell."
In the conservatory, with its tiled floor, it was much easier setting up the newer freestanding tent, which looked a little like a bright blue igloo. We could only partially set up the older olive green tent with its more old-fashioned style.
"Why keep the old one when you had a new one?" the older boy asked.
"Erm, there isn't really a practical reason," I hesitated, wondering how to express my feelings without seeming weird. "It has sort of sentimental value. That's the one that my best friend and I used before he went away, and there are lots of happy memories."
The older boy nodded as if he understood, but his little brother didn't seem at all interested in my explanation.
"Anyway," I continued, "let's see how they are after we clean them out and leave them a few days. The newer one's just a bit musty, so it will probably be okay. If the other's still smelly, we can get a new one for you two."
"We could all fit in the big one," Connor suggested. "Liam's only little."
"Even if we could squeeze in, there'd be no room for our stuff. And I would think that David and Sarah wouldn't be keen on the idea."
"And you don't want to be stuck in a tent with Connor's farts!" Liam said.
He started to giggle but stopped when his brother gently punched his arm.
When they confirmed my presumption that they didn't have sleeping bags, we went online so that we could pick suitable ones that they would like. Later, back at the foster home, David and Sarah agreed that I could pick my brothers up again on the following afternoon. It was also agreed that I return them on Saturday after lunch and stay for Mike's special birthday tea.
My brothers called me that evening, and as soon as the connection was made, I could see that they both had guilty looks on their faces.
"We made a boo-boo," Liam said.
"He means we made a mistake," his brother explained when he saw my puzzled expression. "Remember you said not to talk to Mike about the seaside trip?"
"Yes, but I didn't mean not to talk about it at all. It's okay to answer him if he asks."
"Well, after tea we put the pictures on the laptop and showed them to David and Sarah in the kitchen. Mike came in and saw it," the older boy continued. "Then later, he came to our room and asked if he could have copies of the beach pictures."
"Cos he said he'd never ever been to a beach and wanted to see what it's like," the smaller boy chipped in.
"So what did you say?" I asked.
"I said we'd think about it," Connor said. "What do you think about it?"
"Liam took most of the photos, and they're on your laptop," I pointed out, "so it's up to you two to decide."
"But what do you want us to do?" he persisted.
"You should do what you think is best."
The next day, my brothers were already waiting in the doorway as I drove up to the house, and Connor immediately picked up their shared bag and came out to the car. However, I pointed out to them that before leaving I should check in with Sarah and David. As it happened, they had no special instructions for me and simply requested that the boys phone them at least once during their stay with me.
During the journey to my house, Connor asked if the tents were still smelly, and I had to admit that I'd not been into the conservatory to check. The first thing they did when we got there was to rush upstairs, where they unpacked their bag and put their things in the bedrooms that they'd chosen. It seemed to me that putting their personal possessions in the rooms was like laying claim to their territory.
The next thing they wanted to do was to check the tents. The older one still had a slight musty odour, but the newer merely had a generic 'tent smell'. As it was a pleasantly warm day with no hint of rain and just a slight breeze, I suggested that using some air freshener in the older tent and opening it up outdoors might cure the slight lingering smell.
While Connor and I put up the tent on the lawn, Liam inspected the garden. He was disappointed to find that the apples and pears weren't ripe but claimed that some of the plums were ready. I checked and found that he was correct, so I allowed him to sit on my shoulders while he picked the plums that I agreed were ripe.
Although the older boy had no interest in gardening, he wanted to try eating the fruit, so it became a team effort. I told Liam which plums to pick; he picked them and handed them to me, and then I'd hand them to Connor, who put them into a basket. The older boy was also adept at catching fruits that Liam dropped or that were accidentally detached from the branches.
After collecting about a dozen that were definitely ripe and a few dubious ones that Liam had insisted on picking, the boys wanted to start eating the plums immediately. However, I insisted on taking them through to the kitchen and washing them first. Liam was the first to try one, and as soon as he bit into it, his eyes lit up.
"Try it, Connor," he said, smiling and offering it to his brother.
I was mildly surprised that he'd decided to share the particular fruit he was eating rather than suggesting that the older boy try one of the others. Without hesitation, Connor accepted the plum and took a bite out of it before handing it to me. Eating it after it had been bitten by two other mouths seemed rather unhygienic to me, but my brothers seemed to expect it, so I ate.
"That's the best plum I ever tasted!" Connor exclaimed.
"Yeah!" his little brother agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically.
"It's not the best I've ever tasted, but it's better than most you can buy in the shops," I said.
I picked up one of those that Liam had insisted on picking and handed it to him.
"Now try this one," I said.
"It's not as nice as the other, but it's not horrible," he said after taking a bite.
He handed it to the older boy, who took a tentative bite and agreed with his little brother's comment. He handed it to me, and I just put it in the bin. Both my brothers seemed a little shocked at what they saw as a waste of food.
"Don't worry," I said, "in a few weeks there'll be more ripe fruits than we can possibly eat, and we'll probably end up giving most of them away."
"Or making jam," Connor suggested.
"Gran was the one who made the jam, and she wouldn't let me help. She said it was too dangerous because boiling jam gets much hotter than boiling water."
Liam started to split the obviously ripe plums into three piles, presumably one pile for each of us, then he looked up at me.
"Do we have to save some to share with the others?"
"That's up to you. After all, you picked them, so you should decide who shares them. Anyway, there should be at least two for each person in the house, so there's not really enough here. If we check again just before I take you back, you might find enough for sharing."
We had the remaining ripe plums with a little cheese for our afternoon snack. Then Connor said he needed to use the toilet and went upstairs, even though the downstairs toilet was much nearer. Liam looked at me and rolled his eyes, clearly imitating his brother's frequent expression.
"He likes the bee day," he said.
Later, Connor and I were sitting on patio chairs in the shade of the house and watching Liam exploring the garden.
"You've got lots of stuff you don't really need," the older boy said. "Like three computers, three TVs, two cars, two tents and two bikes."
"Like I've told you before," I said, puzzled by his comment. "I use different computers for different things, and there are different TVs for different rooms. The cars are for different types of trips, and I have a sentimental attachment to the Merc. I'm sure that you keep things you don't need, like photos and Ted."
"You said you kept the old tent because it reminded you of happy times, but why did you need a new one?"
I didn't really have a good answer to that, at least not one that I thought he'd understand, but I tried my best.
"People are complicated, and sometimes questions don't have easy answers," I said slowly. "So probably this won't make sense to you. I wanted to keep it because it reminded me of good times, but I didn't want to use it because it reminded me that my best friend had gone away and I never saw him again."
He frowned as he tried to understand my feelings, but I didn't think that he really could.
"But why two bikes?"
"I grew too big for the smaller bike, and I got a new one when I was fifteen," I replied, "but I kept the old one because it reminded me of the great rides I'd been on."
"With your best friend?"
"Yes," I said, and before he could follow up on that, I decided on a distraction. "The old one would be just the right size for you. Why don't we fix it up and get it back into good condition, and then you can use it?"
I'd thought he'd like the idea, but he seemed rather dubious, and eventually he said, "Okay, I'd like to work on it. Will you show me how to fix it up?"
We stood up, and I called out to Liam to tell him what we were going to do. When Connor got to the bike shed, he opened the lock without me having to remind him of the combination. The younger boy joined us as I was carrying the bike outside.
"Doesn't look like it needs much work," the older boy said, sounding a little disappointed. "I can't see any rust."
"It's been kept in the shed," I pointed out, "but it's not been oiled, and the tyres are flat. In fact, it probably needs new tyres."
Then I realised that there were three brothers and only two bikes, and I thought that Liam must be feeling left out.
"We'll get a bike that's the right size for you, Liam, then we can all go riding together."
"I don't know how to ride a bike," he replied sadly.
"I'm sure that Connor will teach you," I reassured him. "That's the sort of thing that big brothers are for."
"But I don't know, either," the embarrassed older boy said.
"Okay, then I ' ll teach both of you," I offered, surprised that a boy of his age didn't have what I thought of as a basic skill. "When I was a boy, I really loved the freedom of being able to go places without needing anyone to take me. And you can go places on a bike that you can't go in a car."
"How old were you when you started?" Liam asked doubtfully.
"About six when I got my first proper bike, but I already basically knew how to ride it. Grandad just taught me about being safe on the roads."
A careful inspection showed that the tyres would need to be replaced, and I told the boys that I'd get new ones when we went to get a bike for Liam. Then, feeling hungry, I glanced at my watch and decided it was time for me to start preparing our evening meal. After we'd eaten, Connor helped me to bring the older tent back indoors, and we all decided that it would be usable after another application of air freshener.
"When we go camping," Connor said seriously, "me and Liam'll use this one."
"But the other one is bigger, and there're two of you," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but we're littler and don't need as much room," he replied.
Then it occurred to me that maybe at least one reason for his choice was that he didn't want me to be reminded of losing my best friend. I was so touched by his thoughtfulness that I felt like hugging him, but I decided not to because I didn't want to risk embarrassing both of us.
"Okay, then we can put all the gear in the bigger tent with me so you'll have more space in yours."
The rest of the evening was spent mostly in the living room, chatting and watching TV. At one point, I asked them if they'd made many new friends at their new school.
"Not really," Liam said, clearly not very happy with the topic.
"Most of my friends at the old school were on the footie team," the older boy said, equally unenthusiastic about the subject. "But I'm not on the team here, and most kids already had friends when we got here."
I was still trying to think of a response when Connor quickly changed the topic of conversation.
"When you told us about Rule Two and Rule One, you didn't tell us about other rules cos you said that they were for family living in the house. Well, we're living here now, and you can tell us."
Not wishing to debate the difference between visiting and living in the house, I decided simply to answer.
"Rule Three is that you don't use or borrow a personal item without the owner's permission. Rule Four is that if a bedroom door is closed, you don't go in without knocking on the door and waiting for an answer."
"What about emergencies?" Connor asked.
"Like what?"
He thought for a few seconds and then said, "If it's night and there's a burglar and I want to let you know, but if I knock on the door, the burglar will know. Or if there's a fire and I want to check if Liam's okay."
"It would be okay if it's a real emergency," I conceded, "but those examples have never happened before, so they're not likely to happen."
"Any other rules?" he asked.
"I think I mentioned Rule Five, but it doesn't apply to us just now. I'm too old, and you're too young."
"But what is it? You should tell us anyway for when we're older."
It wasn't a subject that I wanted to bring up just then, but there didn't seem an easy way to avoid it.
"Like I said, it doesn't apply to you two yet, and it stopped applying to me when I was nineteen and in charge of the house. Anyway, the rule is that if you have a girl in your bedroom, you must leave the door fully open."
Liam just looked at me blankly, but the older boy went into his potential lawyer mode.
"But it's okay if I have a boy in my room?" he asked, and when I nodded my head in the affirmative, he continued, "What about a trans boy? Or a trans girl?"
That was something that Gran had never mentioned and that I'd never thought about, so I remained quiet for a few seconds while I considered it.
"You know what 'trans' means…" he began, apparently assuming that my silence was because I didn't understand his question.
"Yes," I interrupted him, "I know what it means. I'm just trying to work out how that would fit in with the rule. And I'm trying to decide what Gran would do. So please be patient while I think about it."
After thinking a little longer under Connor's expectant gaze, I announced my conclusions.
"Okay, our grandparents made the rule when I was a bit older than you, and I never really thought about it. But I think that the main point was to reduce the risk of getting a girl pregnant."
Starting to doubt my judgement, I became concerned about what their foster carers might think of such a conversation. Also, I was definitely getting uncomfortable with this discussion and wanted to end it as quickly as possible.
"So, to answer your question, let's just say the rule applies if you have a person in your room who has the, erm, biological equipment to get pregnant."
Connor seemed happy, not only with my answer but also with my obvious discomfort. By contrast, Liam had completely lost interest in Rule Five and had switched his attention to the program on TV.
"Something else to bear in mind," I added. "This isn't really a rule but something you should know. As I mentioned before, Mrs T comes and cleans the house a couple of times per week, but she doesn't do the bedrooms. So we're all responsible for keeping our own bedrooms clean and tidy. Also, it's not part of her job to clear up messes left by us, so we need to tidy up and clean our own dishes and things like that as we go along."
"Yeah, okay," Connor said, "that's like what David and Sarah make us do."
"But they don't make us clean our own bedroom," his little brother added.
"Okay, until you're older, I'll vacuum your bedrooms, but you'll still need to keep them clean and tidy. Also, for the time being I'll do laundry for all of us, so make sure you put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket."
"Sarah said we could take it back with us, and she'd do it," the older boy said.
"That may be okay for this short visit, but don't forget that in August you'll be here for a couple of weeks. I don't think they want to come back from their holiday and have a couple of weeks of your dirty laundry to deal with."
Having consulted with Sarah, I'd decided that as the boys were with me on school holidays, their bedtime could be at ten o'clock. If they were going to have a bath first, it should be no later than nine thirty. Although I'd half expected that my brothers would try to complain and try to negotiate, they accepted my instructions and went upstairs at the required time.
Liam announced that he'd have a bath, and his brother told me that he'd prefer to use the shower. After checking that they knew how to use the shower controls, I asked Connor to run the bath for his little brother, just to make sure the water wasn't too hot. A little before ten o'clock, when I was just about to go upstairs and check on the boys, Liam came downstairs in his pyjamas.
"I'm going to bed now," he said. "Will you come up and say goodnight?"
When I did as he requested, I noted that he had Pan the panda in his bed. Although he looked tired, he started talking about all sorts of things, and then I realised that it was a delaying tactic because he didn't want me to leave. So I sat down on the floor next to his bed and stayed there until he fell asleep. Then I dimmed the lights to just a glimmer and left, leaving the door ajar.
When I went to Connor's room, it was after ten o'clock, but his light was still on. The door was open, so I tapped on it and went in. He was already asleep, so I dimmed the light and went downstairs. By eleven o'clock I, too, was tired and went to bed.
Thinking that my brothers might want an early breakfast, I set my alarm for seven o'clock. When I got up, the house was quiet, and it was still quiet after my shower. On leaving my room, I noticed that Connor's door was closed. Liam's door was still open, but when I looked inside, he wasn't in the room. There was no sign of him in their bathroom or downstairs, so I made some tea and drank it while watching the news on TV.
A little before eight thirty, both boys came downstairs and stood in the living room doorway. Connor, who was slightly in front of his younger brother, looked rather sheepish and asked if they'd overslept.
"As there was no set time for getting up, I guess it's impossible to oversleep," I joked. Looking at the smaller boy, I added, "Liam, I thought you'd run away from home. I looked everywhere but couldn't find you."
"I didn't run away," the literal-minded little boy replied.
"He was in my room," the older boy said, studying me closely to see how I might react.
"I couldn't sleep all on my own," Liam blurted out. "I never had my own room before. I was scared and went to Connor."
Connor tried to hush his little brother, but it was too late, and then he looked at me with a hint of defiance.
"Yeah," I said sympathetically, "I can understand that it might be scary being all alone in an old house. But you don't need to be afraid. I've lived here my whole life, and there's nothing bad here."
"Are you going to tell David and Sarah that he slept in my bed?" the older boy asked.
"You're my brothers, so I'd never tell tales on you. Anyway, all I know is that he was in his room when I went to bed and in your room when I got up. I don't know for sure where he actually slept. But I hope you'll get used to the house and feel comfortable here. Then you won't be too scared to sleep in your own rooms."
Connor narrowed his eyes as he studied me closely, no doubt trying to decide whether or not I really disapproved of them sharing a bed.
"Personally, I don't mind what beds you sleep in," I assured him, "but David and Sarah are in charge, and it's important that they don't think I'm a bad influence on you."
"What d'ya mean?" he asked. looking concerned.
"It's their duty to look out for your best interests, and if they believe I'm a bad influence, they could stop me seeing you," I replied. "Anyway, who wants breakfast?"
As I presumed that they still hadn't tried Belgian waffles since I'd first mentioned them, I toasted some and served them on one side of a plate with mixed fresh fruits on the other side. Then I gave them maple syrup for the waffles and yoghurt to put on the fruit. Connor kept both halves of the plate separate, but his little brother mixed everything together. However, both of them said they really enjoyed it.
Later that morning, we went to my favourite bicycle shop in the city, where I bought new tyres for Connor's bike. I also got helmets as well as knee and elbow pads for both boys. Guessing that Liam might quickly grow out of his first bike, I decided to buy a second-hand one. Fortunately, the shop had one that was perfect for him. However, his first reaction wasn't very positive.
"That's for little kids," he said, frowning and pointing at the stabilisers. "I'm not a baby."
"Of course you're not a baby, but the stabilisers are just there to give you confidence the first time you try so you can get used to balancing. As soon as you feel confident, I'll take them off." Seeing that he still didn't seem convinced, I added, "You'll be learning to ride just in the garden and in the driveway, so they'll be gone by the time you go out in public."
That assurance cheered him up, and he was made even happier when we picked up some fish, chips and mushy peas and took them home for lunch. While we were still eating, the gardeners arrived, going along the side of the house and passing the kitchen window. Both boys were surprised and more than a little curious.
When I told them it was just the gardening firm, Connor lost interest, but his little brother became more interested. After we'd finished eating and cleared the dishes, Liam asked if he could go and watch the gardeners. I took the boys outside and introduced them to Lizzie, the woman in charge, and her assistant, a young man whose name I didn't know.
I asked her if my little brother could watch, and she agreed, with the proviso that he not get too close to the work. After reinforcing that stipulation with Liam, I also told him that he shouldn't bother her with lots of questions. However, Lizzie said it was okay if he asked a few questions as long as he didn't distract her too much.
While Liam was being kept entertained, I suggested to Connor that we work on fixing up the old bike. Having no interest in gardening, he eagerly agreed. I already knew that he had an interest in computers and that he had a legalistic mind, but during the course of the afternoon I discovered that he also had a natural aptitude with machinery and tools.
Both boys very much enjoyed the afternoon, and during our evening meal, each of them regaled the other with descriptions of what they'd seen and done. After eating, they tried out various games and consoles while I spent time on my laptop doing some online searches. The bedtime routine was similar to the previous night, except for the fact that when I went to bed, Liam wasn't in his room and Connor's door was closed.
The following morning as we were finishing breakfast, Connor looked at me as if he wanted to say something but was hesitant to do so. Then Liam nudged him and nodded his head at me.
"Erm, we were wondering why the photo we gave you isn't anywhere ," the older boy said. " I mean, there're lots of photos all round the house, but we can't see that one."
"I thought you said you liked it," Liam said, sounding a little hurt.
"I do. I love it," I protested.
"But it's hidden somewhere," Connor said.
"It's not hidden," I replied with a gentle smile. "Go and look in my bedroom."
Both of them went upstairs and returned a couple of minutes later.
"Only you can see it there. Don't you want people to see us?" the older boy asked.
"Did you see where it was?"
"Next to your bed," he replied.
"Yes, because there it's the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. That makes me happy because it reminds me how lucky I am to have such great brothers. It's the only photo I have next to my bed because it's the most important to me."
They both smiled broadly, though Connor looked a little embarrassed, then Liam came to me and hugged me around the waist very tightly.
The rest of the day passed by in what seemed to be a blur of activity. In the morning, Connor helped me bake the cake and make the trifle, while Liam either watched or went looking in the garden for weeds that Lizzie and her assistant might have missed. Liam's bike arrived just before lunch, and the afternoon was split between helping them to learn to ride and putting the cake together.
Saturday morning was cloudy but dry, and the grey sky seemed to be reflected in the mood of the boys when they got up. They seemed almost clingy, staying close to me and to each other, even while I prepared breakfast. However, that didn't seem to decrease their appetite, and they wolfed down their bacon and grilled tomatoes with a side plate of toast and homemade jam.
When I asked them what they wanted to do before lunch, they reminded me that I'd mentioned looking for more ripe plums. Working closely together, with Liam mounted on my shoulders and Connor holding the basket, seemed to cheer them up. The little boy had become better both at picking and at detecting the degree of ripeness, so we ended up with more than two dozen fruits.
After we went back indoors, I got out the box with Mike's present and some silver and green gift wrap.
"What's in the box?" Connor asked, "Is it a present for Mike?"
"Running shoes," I said, opening the box and showing him the contents.
"Why?" he asked.
"Mike said he liked running."
"No, I meant why're you getting him a present?"
"Because it's his birthday, and I told you that I wanted to try and be nice to him."
"But we already made him a cake," Connor said.
"And I helped make the trifle," his little brother added.
"Those are for everyone to share," I pointed out, "but this is a personal gift."
"You didn't give me one for my birthday," Liam complained. "I had to share the phone with Connor."
"When it was your birthday, I didn't know you existed," I pointed out, "but I just bought you a bike, and it wasn't even your birthday."
"Oh, yeah," he said, looking sheepish.
"Did you get Mike a card?" I asked, though I was pretty certain what the answer would be.
"No, we were going to sign the card that Sarah and David got him," Connor replied.
"You can sign this one if you want," I suggested. "Then it can be from all three of us."
"Okay," he agreed.
"We decided to give him a present, though," Connor added.
"Really? What is it?" I asked, surprised.
"A USB stick with the beach pics on it."
We all signed our names on the card, with Connor instructing me not to write 'anything soppy'.
"Right," I said, "I'll start preparing lunch, and you two can get all your stuff packed into your bag. Then everything will be ready to put in the car straight after we eat."
On being reminded that we would soon be leaving, their expressions became sad. From their body language as they went upstairs to pack, one might have thought that they were climbing steps to the scaffold.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
