BY CAT.
2 Friday Night/Saturday Morning.
“You do love me don’t you Gord?”
“How can you ask that after what we’ve just done?”
“Well, I don’t usually find myself naked and face down over your knee after a passionate lovemaking session.” There was a hint of a pout in Nathan’s voice, “you know, as foreplay goes, this is a bit on the late side.”
“This isn’t play poppet, believe me, unless you can give me a good, a very good, explanation for the smell I finally traced to a plastic bag in the bottom of our wardrobe, and the contents therein, I’m going to tan you.”
Nat pulled a horrified face, then tried to prevaricate. “Five days I’ve been away, five days at a boring conference,” he gave a calculated pause, “raising money for Hope House and this is all the thanks I get!”
“Money?” Gordon’s hand paused in its upward flight.
Nathaniel smugly smiled, then yelped as the hand descended. “OW!”
“Keep the noise down, if you please, I don’t want you disturbing everyone.”
“Well don’t wallop me then, that’s the simple solution.” The pout became more pronounced.
“I’m very cross with you.”
“No you’re not, if you were really cross, you’d have taken me down to the utility room by now.” Nat managed to inject a smirk into his voice.
“I still might,” Gordon soothingly rubbed the red mark he’d just imprinted on his lover’s bottom.
“Don’t kid yourself. Now, if you’ve finished playing macho man, kindly let me up.”
Gordon grinned. Hauling Nathaniel upright he then grasped him around the waist and lay back on the bed pulling him on top of him. “Tell me about the cash you wonderful man.”
Nathaniel looked pleased with himself, “I took the opportunity to do some fund raising, it relieved the tedium and I got some good donations too, enough to cover the repairs to the roof.”
“Thank you precious.” Gordon kissed Nathaniel’s forehead.
“This place means as much to me as it does to you Gordon.”
“I know, now tell me about the goldfish.”
“Promise you won’t be cross.”
“No.”
“Promise you won’t spank me then.”
“No.”
“Gord!”
“Start talking.”
Nathaniel sighed and blew out a long-suffering breath. “I didn’t want Nigel to be upset.” He paused, as if that explained it all.
“And?”
“You always claim to be able to read me like a book, if that’s the case how come I have to do so much talking, am I an audio book?”
“Skip the cheek and start the chat!” Gordon gave his partner a certain look.
“Well...”
Gordon propped himself up an elbow, gazing in disbelief at his partner. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been stockpiling dead goldfish in the bottom of our wardrobe for close on three months because you didn’t want Nigel to be upset that they’d died. He fondly thinks that the goldfish currently swimming around the tank downstairs is the same one he won at the summer fete in July?”
Nathaniel carefully avoided Gordon’s eye and nodded.
“When in fact it is goldfish number.... what?”
“I’ve already told you, weren’t you listening?”
“Humour me darling, tell me again, I want to be sure I heard it right.”
Nathaniel swallowed slightly, “fifteen.”
“Fifteen.” Gordon kept his gaze firmly fixed on Nathaniel, “quite a fishy mortality rate we have around here. So, there are fourteen very dead, very smelly, disgustingly mouldy goldfish residing in a plastic bag in our wardrobe.”
Nathaniel nodded, blushing slightly; he knew what was coming next.
“Why? Why put them in the wardrobe Nathaniel, even by your standards that’s slightly...eccentric, shall we say?
Nathaniel looked at Gordon reproachfully. “I didn’t intend to put them there. I tried to flush the first one that died down the toilet, but it kept bobbing back up. I heard Nigel coming upstairs and I thought he’d have a fit if he saw his pet floating in the toilet, so I panicked and put it in my pocket, a perfectly logical thing to do in the circumstances, in my opinion. However, I couldn’t very well leave it in my pocket could I. So I went into the bedroom and put it in the waste bin, then I heard Nigel heading for our room and I panicked again and quickly pulled the bin liner out and shoved it in the bottom of the wardrobe. I meant to move it as soon as I could, but I forgot and a few days later the second one died so I put it in the bag with the first one and....”
Gordon raised a weary hand, “enough, I can see the pattern emerging. Honestly Nat, you take the biscuit sometimes; in my opinion you were just too idle to dispose of them properly. It’s a wonder we haven’t had the RSPCA beating down our door demanding an explanation. It’s like an aquatic Rillington Place.” He shook his head, “I take it that Nigel himself has something to do with the deaths?”
Nat nodded confirmation. “I keep telling him that it only needs to be fed once a day. I even hid the fish food, but then he started dropping bread and biscuits, even crisps into the tank. He put a tin of beans and a can opener in one day, and he insists on trying to cuddle and stroke them and the poor fish can’t take the stress and peg out in next to no time. It’s costing me a fortune at the pet shop, I’m sure the man there thinks I’m eating the bloody things.”
“Language!” The reprimand was automatic.
“Sorry.” So was the response.
“It’s late, let’s cut to the chase,” Gordon sat up. “Why did you conceal these tragic fish victims from me?”
Nat flushed more deeply, but remained silent.
“I’m waiting Nathaniel.”
Nat grimaced, “You know what Nigel’s like...he gets so upset Gordon, you know he does, he can’t bear you to be cross with him, and he was so happy about having a pet and looking after it.”
“That’s beside the point Nathaniel and you know it.” Gordon wasn’t pleased; there was a touch of frost in his voice, and a definite hint of winter in his startling blue eyes. “The truth of the matter is very simple. Nigel has to learn that actions have consequences. He hasn’t been looking after his pet has he? Both you and I told him that the fish needed feeding only once a day, he was told not to physically handle it. You covering up his actions, and outcomes thereof, does nothing to help that learning process, it teaches him nothing about responsibility. You should have come straight to me, not secreted dead fish in the bottom of our wardrobe. Just how long did you intend to keep on covering this up, until the French fleet trawled in here and demanded to know why we were exceeding international fishing quotas?
“I don’t think even the French would squabble over a few gold...ouch...Gordon!” Nathaniel scowled as a firm hand swatted his left buttock.
“I’m serious Nathaniel. We’ve discussed this time and again, I know you think you act out of kindness, but it’s ultimately detrimental to Nigel’s progress. And I know it often seems that progress is none existent where he’s concerned, but remember that when he first came to us two years ago, he wouldn’t even dress himself. Concealing the effects of his behaviour only leads him to believe that it’s all right to continue with it. Those poor wretched creatures needn’t have suffered an early demise if you’d presented the facts to me immediately.”
“Sorry.” Nathaniel tried to look soulful, but attained only sulky.
“You don’t hide things from me Nathaniel, no matter how trivial you think they are. Is that perfectly clear, or do I need to follow up with an object lesson?”
“Yes, I mean no, I mean yes to the first part and no to the second.” He sounded suddenly tearful.
Gordon relented. “You’re tired, get into bed and go to sleep.” He switched the bedside lamp off and lay down draping an arm around Nat, pulling him close. “You can sit Nigel down tomorrow and tell him that you’re confiscating his goldfish, because he’s disobeyed the rules regarding its welfare, you needn’t tell him about the deaths, that will serve no purpose, but you must make clear to him why you’re taking the course of action you’re taking.”
“Oh God Gordon, must I, can’t I just be on bathroom cleaning duties for the rest of my life?”
“No, ” Gordon shut out the plaintive plea in his partner’s voice. Nigel in trauma was wearing on the nerves. “You can jolly well suffer the consequences of your own misguided actions. I’ll sit in with you, but you’re doing the talking. And you can write me an article on the proper care of goldfish for the children’s section of the parish magazine.”
“Why don’t you just shoot me?” muttered Nat under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“I said sleep well dear.”
Saturday Morning:
The radio alarm clicked on, the tune working its way into Nat’s sleep befuddled mind, a faint echo of the dream he’d been having. “Don’t turn it off,” he spoke quietly as Gordon disentangled himself from his arms, rolling over to push the snooze button.
“Don’t let the sun catch you crying, the night’s the time for all your tears. Your heart may be broken tonight but tomorrow in the morning light, don’t let the sun catch you crying...”
“I haven’t heard that song for years.” Nathaniel was silent for a few moments, “are we old Gordon?”
“Judging from your performance last night, I’d say you had a good few years left in you yet.” Gordon kissed Nat’s cheek.
“Nat was in no mood for light repartee. “I feel old...”
“For goodness sake Nat, what is it with you and age lately? I’m four years older than you and I don’t think I’m old. Don’t start with the maudlin thoughts just because of a silly song. I’ll have Paul’s head on a pole if he doesn’t stop re-tuning my radio to these trashy stations.” Gordon leaned into the winter morning darkness and smartly clicked the snooze button.
“You think that anything not played by an orchestra or sung by a fat Italian is trashy, well pardon me for my plebeian past!” Nathaniel turned on his side, away from Gordon’s touch.
Gordon was slightly taken aback, “watch your tone Nathaniel, or...”
“Or what?” interrupted Nathaniel, his voice unusually aggressive.
“Continue in this vein and you’ll soon find out.” Gordon put a warning hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “You’re obviously still tired, I told you that a five day affair was too much for you, but you would insist.” He gently kneaded the shoulder for a few moments, but there was no accompanying relaxation of the muscle under his hand. Gordon felt a stir of suspicion, “did you take all your meds while you were away?”
“Yes!”
There was a defensive ring to the overly prompt answer, and the shoulder under his hand tensed further. “Good,” said Gordon evenly, “in that case you won’t mind if I check your pill pack, if you’re telling me the truth, you’ll have nothing to worry about, and if you’re not, well, you know only too well what that means. I’m serious Nat, if you’ve missed so much as one dose, I’ll be most annoyed.”
“How annoyed?”
“How many have you missed?”
Nat swallowed hard, turning over he buried his face against his partner’s chest, mumbling incoherently.
“Say that again in intelligible language young man.”
“Young man!” Nat stifled a giggle, “hardly that.”
“Don’t try and side track me Nathaniel!” Gordon’s voice had an unmistakeably sharp edge to it. “How many?”
Nat took a deep breath, “all of them,” he admitted, “I couldn’t find them.” He waited.
The bedside lamp snapped on. Nat blinked in the sudden light.
“What was the last thing I said to you before you got in the car?” Gordon’s voice could have challenged the North wind to a chill factor contest, and won.
“You asked if I had my tablets.”
“And what did you say?” The air dripped icicles.
“I told you I had everything in order.”
“So, you lied!”
“No, I didn’t lie, not purposefully, I thought I did have everything in order, but...”
“But what?”
“I had them in my hand at one point, I’m sure of it, I thought I’d packed them, but when I unpacked at the hotel, I couldn’t find them.”
“So it was too much trouble to telephone me to arrange that a prescription be sent to you immediately?”
“ I didn’t want to worry you, I...”
“Utter Rubbish!”
Nathaniel’s stomach twisted at the tone of Gordon’s voice, he was in big trouble. He was suddenly terribly conscious of his nudity.
“It was an experiment, I’m sorry, okay...”
“No Nathaniel it is not okay! It is far from okay. You know how important it is that you take your medication regularly. You don’t just stop them dead like that, they’re not sweets that you can put down when you grow tired of them.” Gordon got briskly out of bed, pulling on boxers and bathrobe. Opening the drawer on his bedside cabinet he withdrew a horribly familiar object. “Get yourself out of that bed and put on some shorts and your robe.”
“Gordon?”
“Downstairs Nathaniel.” Gordon walked across to the bedroom door, unlocking it.
Nathaniel stared at him like a mesmerised rabbit, but made no attempt to get out of bed.
“If absolutely necessary I’ll discipline you here in our room, regardless of who might hear.”
Nathaniel hastily got up, pulling on the shorts so readily abandoned the night before. If he were any judge of matters, they wouldn’t be staying in their present location for very long. He pulled on his robe, reluctantly padding in his partner’s wake. Some homecoming!
*
Five days! Gordon pushed the plug of the kettle into the socket with uncharacteristic violence. Five days! He savagely hurled five spoonfuls of Earl Grey into the teapot. Five days without meds, what the heck was Nat playing at? He sighed, running his right hand, a hand that still smarted from the attendance it had danced on his partner’s bare bottom prior to applying the paddle. Nat knew, he knew that stopping meds abruptly was not allowed, that it was not good, that it was in fact downright, wilfully stupid! He poured boiling water onto the leaves, inhaling the fragrant steam, allowing it to calm his thoughts. Why was the main question? So far Nat had not offered a satisfactory explanation, but he’d have one, Gordon grimly shook bran flakes into a bowl, oh yes he’d have one. He turned away from the counter to take his breakfast across to the table.
“What the...?” The cereal erupted from the bowl sprinkling prettily around him like a chocolate coloured snowstorm. Heart pounding, Gordon stared at the black masked figure standing silently in the kitchen doorway. Forcing his pulse rate down to an acceptable level and fighting nobly to keep his voice steady, he said, “good morning Paul, you’re up early. Forgive my asking, but why are you wearing a balaclava, it’s not that cold in here?”
“What do you mean,” the voice managed petulance and aggression in equal proportions, “I’m not wearing pastry, why would I be wearing pastry?”
“Baklava Paul, that’s the pastry, a balaclava is...” he used a finger to make a gesture around his face like a mime artist.
“It’s a ski mask, not a baka, balka...whatever you said, I just felt like wearing it, it’s mod!”
Gordon swept up the bran storm without fuss, then filled a glass with orange juice, setting it, along with several pills, before the ski masked figure who was now sitting silently at the table. Pouring himself a strong cup of tea he sat down opposite it, sipping his tea and watching as the pills were swallowed. “Bad night baby?”
The indiscriminately coloured eyes gazing out from the holes in the ski mask filled with water, belying the message that the shaking head gave. Rising to his feet Gordon silently held out a hand.
Closing the door of his study he led the figure over to the comfortable leather chair in the corner of the room. Sitting down he pulled Paul onto his lap, tucked his head under his chin and cuddled him until the shaking, silent sobs stopped and the boy lay quietly against him. “Take the mask off Paul.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I’m not asking if you want to young man, I’m telling you to take it off. Whatever you’re concealing under there won’t be helped by sweat, besides it’s all wet from your tears.”
“Promise you won’t be angry with me then.”
“No Paul, I won’t promise anything, just remove the mask.” Gordon shook his head sternly as the teenager slowly peeled the mask off, revealing a scrubbed fiery red mess.
“Nail brush and washing up liquid,” murmured Paul when pressed about what he’d used on his skin. I woke up in the night and my face felt tingly and tight like it always does when I’m getting more spots. I thought if I scrubbed my face really clean they wouldn’t come out.”
“What should you have done Paul?” Gordon gently cleansed, dried and applied antibiotic cream to the inflamed skin.
“Knocked on your door.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Paul’s habitual cheekiness kicked in. “Because Nat’s been away five days and I know that you and him were probably at it like rabbits.”
“Would you like another little trip over my knee Paul?”
“No.”
“Then don’t be impertinent, and answer my question.”
Paul shrugged sullenly.
“I’ll answer it for you then. In some convoluted way you were trying to upset me by not doing something you knew I would want you to do in the circumstances. Why, because you’re angry with me for spanking you and sending you to bed early last night. You think I was unfair.”
“Well you were,” Paul burst out, “Anna was just as horrible to me as I was to her.”
“At least you admit that you were horrible to her, that’s a step in the right direction, and yes, you’re quite right, she was just as horrible to you. I’m going to ask Nat to have words with that young lady, he’s the only one she seems to take notice of. Failing that, I will deal with her accordingly. However, it’s your behaviour that concerns me most. You’ve been warned time and again about throwing things at people in temper. How often has it got you into trouble, serious trouble? If that heavy vase had hit Anna it would have hurt her, possibly cut her badly. I won’t allow such behaviour, nor will I allow this sort of behaviour,” he pointed at Paul’s damaged face. “It’s not only me you’ve let down and hurt by doing this Paul, it’s yourself. I don’t want it happening again. What do we do?”
“Talk about our worries and anxieties, whatever the hour.”
“What don’t we do?”
“Bottle things up or act furtively and foolishly on negative and destructive impulses.”
“Good, you seem fairly clear on that, but just to make sure,” Gordon moved across to the desk, setting out paper and pen, “you can write each do and each don’t down fifty times, just to make sure they’re firmly fixed in your mind.”
“Oh uncle Gordon!” Paul glared at him crossly, “do I have to, I hate lines?”
“Yes Paul, you most certainly do, and I’ll count them, so don’t try to cheat. I’m going to take Nat a cup of tea up, then I’ll start breakfasts, I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Paul stuck his tongue out as the tall figure swept out of the room, but settled at the desk and picked up the pen.
*
Nathaniel groaned as the bedroom door opened and someone padded across the floor, flopping heavily onto the bottom of the bed. Company was the last thing in the world he wanted at this moment in time, not with all the fires of hell still raging in his backside.
“I’m glad you’ve come home Nat, I didn’t like you going away. Do you still like me?”
“Yes Nigel, of course I do.” Nathaniel resignedly rolled over onto his back. Bracing himself he put his weight on his sore bottom and sat up. Almost against his will his face developed an affectionate grin, “it’s a bit chilly out for shorts and t-shirt Nigel love, even if you are wearing pyjamas under them.”
“Did you bring me a present Nat?” Nigel’s big brown eyes gazed imploringly at him.
Nat nodded his head towards a package on the dressing table.
“Nigel,” Nat spoke calmly at first, then more urgently as his ribs threatened to collapse under the pressure being exerted on them, “Nigel,” he gasped, “I’m glad you like the present, but I can’t breathe, ease up, there’s a good lad.” He drew in a welcome breath as Nigel released his grip.
“Can I put it on now Nat, can I?”
“No,” said Nat firmly, “not yet Nigel, it’s too early, you’ll wake the other others up.” The dark eyes clouded and Nat steeled himself... In a timely stroke of fate the radio alarm clicked back on, breaking its enforced silence and successfully drawing Nigel’s thoughts away from tantrum flinging. Nat offered a silent prayer of thanks to a deity he claimed not to believe in, relieved that at least something was going his way that morning. It was short lived.
“But why,” wailed Nigel, “why did they come Nat, why did they do that, it was wicked and angels are supposed to be good not bad?”
“There, there, Nigel, don’t take it to heart.”
“But why Nat, why did they come in the early spring, when flowers bloom and robin’s sing?”
“I couldn’t say Nigel, really I couldn’t.” Nathaniel patted the quivering back.
“He laughed at her and she got mad.”
“I know Nigel, I know.”
“He didn’t mean to.”
“I know Nigel, I know.”
“She was kinda dumb and kinda smart, and even when she wrecked the car, he wasn’t really mad, she hugged his neck...that was nice wasn’t it?”
“Yes Nige, it was, he loved her.”
“He’d be with her if only he could.”
“Goes without saying Nigel.”
“The tree has really grown,” Nigel paused thoughtfully, “how big do you think it’s grown?”
“Massive, Nigel, it’s massive, a fitting token of their love.”
“He loved her so, he surprised her with a puppy one Christmas Eve.”
“I know, she loved that puppy, it loved her.”
“I don’t like angels anymore Nat.”
“Don’t hold it against them Nigel, they were just doing their job.” Nat rubbed the young man’s back.
“What are you doing in here Nigel?” Gordon walked into the bedroom carrying a tray that he placed on the chest of drawers.
“The angels come and took Honey away!” Nigel tearfully launched himself into Gordon’s arms.
Gordon, looking slightly startled, managed to remain on his feet, more by good luck than anything else. “Honey...who on earth is....oh no, don’t tell me you’ve started giving your jelly babies names now? Really Nigel this has gone far enough.”
“Bobby Goldsboro’s Honey,” explained Nat, trying not to laugh at the expression on Gordon’s face, pop music was an alien concept to him. He quickly exchanged the fledgling smile for a frown; he wasn’t ready to smile at Gordon yet. The paddling had been severe. “It’s a pop song,” he said, rather caustically, “not a jelly baby. We’ve been indulging in lowbrow tastes and listening to Sounds Of The Sixties on the radio.”
Gordon raised his eyes towards heaven, uttering a silent prayer for patience and strength. Whipping out a handkerchief he mopped Nigel’s streaming nose and eyes, saying briskly, “in that case, stop that racket at once young man.” Giving him a quick hug he then sent him back to his own room to get dressed properly. Picking something up from the tray he silently held them out with a glass of water.
Nat obediently took and obediently swallowed the proffered pills. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the second offering, a steaming mug of tea, from his partner’s hand.
Gordon picked up his own mug, settling himself at the end of the bed. “Why Nat?”
Nathaniel shrugged; sipping carefully at his tea, to his dismay the hand holding the mug began to shake. Tears flowed silently from his eyes.
Gordon set his mug aside and moved quickly to the door, locking it to prevent intrusion. Taking the mug out of Nat’s hands, he sat on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around the slender frame of the man he’d lived with for twenty years. A man who had started out as his patient and ended up as the love of his life. A man he’d gladly given up his mainstream career for at a time when to fall in love with a patient was bad enough, but to fall in love with a patient of the same sex was total anathema. “It’s alright sweetheart, I’m here, take your time, I’m going nowhere.”
Nat eventually found his voice, finding his way carefully around words, thoughts, feelings he wasn’t altogether sure of himself. “I suppose I just wanted to prove that I could do without them, if I really wanted to, that I could be in charge. I had them in my hand ready to pack and it suddenly dawned on me that I wouldn’t have you there reminding me to take them. It seemed like an opportunity of some kind, so before I knew it I’d shoved them to the back of my sock drawer. And I did Gordon, I did manage.” Nathaniel laughed shakily, “and guess what, I feel awful, bloody awful and scared, there’s some faceless creature hovering in the shadows of my mind, waiting to pounce! The first few days were fine, I didn’t notice any difference, but I had to use every relaxation technique in the book to get me through the last few days of that conference. I wanted to jump in the car and just head home where I could feel safe again; where I could find you. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“No my darling, you’re not an idiot,” Gordon squeezed him affectionately. “You’re not always able to judge what’s in your own best interests, that’s why you need me, that’s why we have the kind of relationship we have, it isn’t a sign of weakness, far from it, nor is taking medication to keep your mind and body stable a sign of weakness.” He paused for a moment to kiss Nat’s lips, “you’re one of the strongest people I know. I couldn’t manage this place and run my practice without you. I need your support, your help, your love, your chicken casserole.” He laughed as a sharp elbow nudged him in the ribs. “I need you to be healthy,” he bent and nuzzled behind his left ear, “so, if you ever decide to experiment with your drugs again, let me know so I can spank some sense back into you.”
Nat squirmed pleasurably as the nape of his neck was kissed and a hand began to expertly caress other parts of his body. “You’re insatiable Gordon.”
“I am where you’re concerned, you lucky, lucky man!” Gordon placed a series of delicate kisses along his lover’s spine.
“THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC...”
Gordon abruptly ceased all activities, meeting Nathaniel’s eyes, which were sparkling with repressed laughter. “You didn’t, tell me you didn’t, tell me I’m suffering an auditory hallucination?”
Nat fluttered his eyelashes innocently. “No, your senses are A1. Isn’t it fortunate, I just happened to see a copy of it while I was away. I bought it on impulse. Poor Nigel, he was so upset when the last tape snapped.”
Gordon groaned, burying his face against Nat’s shoulder, “I don’t suppose you bought the rest of us ear plugs on the same impulse did you? He’ll be watching it all weekend and when he’s not actually watching he’ll be singing the score from it. Julie Andrews and jelly babies, what a combination.”
“Nat grinned wickedly, “you do realise that he thinks you and I are manifestations of Captain Von Trapp and Maria, because of our names. I think he’d die of happiness if I resorted to wearing a nun’s habit and started strumming a guitar.”
“Well I’m not wearing lederhosen for anybody, not even Nigel.” Gordon rose to his feet, “come on Julie, get dressed, there’s waifs and strays to be cared for, goldfish to be confiscated, nervous newcomers and quarrelsome teenagers to sort out.”
*
“You’ve eaten them haven’t you?” Paul glared accusingly across the table.
“Kell-ogg’s-Fros-ties...”
Anna feigned deafness, nibbling daintily at a slice of dry toast.
“Im-por-tant-may-con-tain-traces-of-pea-nut...”
“You have, haven’t you?” Paul poked his spoon around his bowl of cereal. “There’s not one raisin in my shredded wheat fruitful, you came down in the night and pinched all the raisins out of the box.”
“In-gre-di-ents...”
“I’m telling Gordon.”
“Telling me what?” Gordon entered the kitchen with James in tow, whom he’d found crouched in the laundry basket at the top of the stairs. “Sit down James, would you like French toast for breakfast?” Gordon prided himself on his French toast, it was one of his few culinary successes.
James obediently sat down, gazing dreamily into space, occasionally nodding his head.
“Ma-ize-sugar-malt-fla-vou-ring...”
“She’s stolen all the raisins out of the shredded wheat again.”
“Stolen!” Anna returned Paul’s glare, “that’s rich coming from you klepto boy!”
“Made-with-Tony’s-Secret For-mu-la...why can I read Gordon?”
“There’s plenty of other fruit in your cereal Paul, stop fussing and just get on with it. Anna, you don’t have to be furtive about eating and you are NOT starting the day on one slice of dry toast, you can add cereal or a piece of fruit. Reading is something you learned Nigel.”
“I wouldn’t mind if she kept them down, but I bet she puked them straight back up.”
“Shurrup!”
“I don’t remember learning, are you sure I learned Gordon?”
“James, I asked you a question, are you going to answer me? Of course you learned Nigel, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to do it.”
“Gypsy toast,” James turned a sweet smile in Gordon’s direction, “mother said to tell you it’s called Gypsy toast, not French toast. She doesn’t hold with that foreign stuff.”
“Do you want some or not James?” There was a hint of exasperation in Gordon’s voice, sometimes James’s mother had a mite too much to say for a dead woman!
“Yes please.”
“Vomit girl!”
You’re so immature, nerdy boy!”
“Ah, that’s what I missed most while I was away,” Nat walked into the kitchen, “the pleasures of a civilised family meal. Good morning my sunbeams!” He turned to Anna, “ I want a word with you miss, straight after breakfast.”
Anna scowled as Paul smirked.
“What’s Tony’s secret formula Nat?”
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I knew, now would it Nigel?” Nat carefully sat down, helping himself to a bowl of cornflakes. “Whose turn is it for the freebie?” He fished a Smurf out of his cereal, holding it aloft. “James?”
James shook his head, “no thank you, mother says she doesn’t hold with gimmicky trash like that and there’s no such thing as a free gift.”
“I bet she was a bloody side splitting riot to live with your mother.”
“That’s enough Paul!” Gordon and Nathaniel spoke in unison.
Nigel stopped reading the cereal box aloud and hopefully held out his hand.
“Me, me, I’ll have it Nat, I like Smurfs.”
“No you won’t,” Gordon crisply plucked the little plastic toy out of Nat’s hand before he could drop it onto the outstretched palm. “Tell Nathaniel why you’re not allowed to have them anymore Nigel.”
Nigel immediately clapped both hands over his mouth, shaking his head vigorously.
Paul and Anna both started to giggle.
“Very well, I’ll tell him.” Gordon turned to his partner. “I spent three hours with Nigel in casualty last Tuesday while two doctors fought to liberate a tiny plastic Hobbit that he’d wedged up his left nostril. Nigel screamed throughout the entire procedure reducing patients and staff alike to gibbering wrecks!”
Paul and Anna broke down completely.
Nathaniel was hard pressed to maintain a stern expression, but he persevered. “Stop it, both of you, it isn’t funny.”
Nigel began wailing, “tell them to stop laughing at me Gordon, tell them! They don’t like me, why don’t they like me Gordon, I like them, but they don’t like me and I was only smelling Mr Frodo, he fell up my nostril and I couldn’t get him down again and I didn’t like having a Hobbit up my nose!”
Paul and Anna became almost hysterical.
“Stop caterwauling Nigel, and that toy did not fall up your nose as you very well know, you pushed it up.” Gordon then gave the gigglers a look that sobered them immediately, “you’re both on washing up duties for the weekend and if so much as one item gets broken there’ll be trouble!”
“Gordon sent me to bed Nat,” Nigel gazed at him from sorrowful eyes, “he sent me to bed when we got home from the hospital, and I missed The Tweenies and he put Mr Frodo in the bin. I don’t think Gordon likes me anymore.”
Nat, reached across the table and patted Nigel’s hand comfortingly, “of course he does, but you mustn’t put things in your nose or ears, it’s dangerous, you’ve been told lots of times not to do it.”
James suddenly pointed at the kitchen doorway. Everyone turned to look to where the new resident was standing. Nathaniel stood up with a smile, “good mor....” The figure bolted leaving Nat’s greeting hanging unfinished in the air. He raised a quizzical eyebrow, “my, my, I do seem to have a strange effect on that young man.”
Gordon patted his partner’s back, “don’t worry sweetheart. I’m afraid Christopher is something of a reluctant resident. I’ll go and talk to him. You finish up here.” He headed purposefully in the same direction as the fleeing figure.
“What a weirdo,” Paul gave Anna a snide grin, “he’s nearly as freaky as you!”
“He probably just caught a look at you, pus face, it’s enough to scare anyone.”
Paul’s chair flew back with a crash as he leapt furiously to his feet, “you need talk, I’ve seen the dog next door bury better looking specimens than you.”
“Enough!” Nathaniel’s eyes and tone of voice blended perfectly in icy harmony. “No wonder that poor boy looked terrified, he must wonder what kind of place he’s come to. Paul, sit down, or do I have to call Gordon back here to attend to you?”
Paul righted his chair and sat down at once.
“As for you miss,” Nat turned to Anna, “Those promises you made to me before I went away seem to have amounted to very little. I’m deeply disappointed with your behaviour.”
Anna swallowed, a slow flush of colour spreading across her thin face.
“I want you to apologise to each other for your unkind remarks, and make it sound sincere, or I’ll hand you both over to Gordon.”
They exchanged mumbled apologies and limply shook hands; resorting to hideous face pulling the moment Nat turned his back. He sighed, well aware of what they were doing. The weather outside suddenly made its presence felt, hurling hard rain against the windowpanes. Nat quickly put down the pile of crockery he’d been in process of taking to the sink. “Action stations everyone.”
They all scurried around placing buckets and containers in strategic positions around the old house, all except James, who refused to relinquish his bucket to be rained in, as his mother had apparently taken up residence in it, and he didn’t want her getting wet. Nat felt suddenly cheered as he remembered the donations he’d raised. First thing Monday he would set about getting someone to fix the roof before the worst of the winter weather set in. He jumped with fright as Nigel let out a piercing screech, pointing dramatically towards the kitchen window. Nat felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Outside, a tall-bedraggled figure stood motionless in the pouring rain, eyes wide and staring.