Chapter 36
"Morning!"
Finn's cheerful greeting surprised him as he slouched into the kitchen. His bright mop of blond curls seemed to blaze in Aaron's eyes as he walked into the room the next morning; the brightness of his curls a halo around his head, highlighted by the winter sun coming in through the window, glinting with each movement he made.
"What are you doing here?" he asked grumpily.
"Oi you! Be nice," said Paddy. "Just because you don't do mornings and have got a hangover."
"I have not got a hangover," countered Aaron argumentatively, each word deliberately spoken.
"He's got a hangover; you can always tell," Paddy said to Finn as though Aaron wasn't in the room; wasn't standing beside them. "So you're not going to work this morning then?" he asked, turning his attention back to Aaron.
"No," said Aaron as though it was obvious; he was still here wasn't he!
"Cain will..." began Paddy.
"Cain will just have to wait," snarled Aaron, picking up the kettle. He felt the weight of it, gauging the amount of water in it before switching it on, turning his back on Finn and Paddy as he put coffee into a mug for himself.
"He'll be alright when he's had a couple of coffees," said Paddy to Finn conspiratorially, ignoring the spoon crashing against a mug behind him
Aaron flung himself down into a chair at the table. "Where's Greg," he growled to Finn.
"Out for a run," smiled Finn. "D'you want me to go? Come back later?"
"No. You're fine," sighed Aaron; he paused. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head, just a little.
"It's okay; it's not everyone that can take their drink and not have a hangover the next day," he grinned; laughing aloud as he saw the scowl appear on Aaron's face. "Paddy tells me Jackson left for work an hour ago,"
"He's another freak," growled Aaron, leaning his elbows on the table, nursing his mug of coffee. "I take it you and Paddy introduced yourselves then," he said, realising that they hadn't met before, yet Finn had an empty mug in front of him; had obviously been there a while.
"Oh yes," confirmed Paddy heartily, "we've found lots to talk about!"
"Paddy! You'd better not have..." Aaron exploded angrily.
"What?" chucked Paddy. "Tell him something about you that he doesn't already know? Something that you haven't already told him? Seems to me there's nothing for me to tell."
"Yeah...well," conceded Aaron, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had risen. "Have we got any paracetamol?"
Paddy moved to rummage in one of the cupboards, looking for the tablets. Finding them, he dropped them on the table in front of Aaron then found a glass, filled it with water and handed that to him, watching as he swallowed the tablets
"You could take that post-op lab out to the field for me," said Paddy. "A bit of fresh air might do you good; just don't let her off the long line though, she can't go too mad yet."
Aaron grumbled but stood and moved towards the door that lead through to the surgery. He paused for a split second as he reached the door, saying nothing but glancing at Finn.
"Mind if I come with you," said Finn, catching his glance, pushing his chair back from the table and following him.
In the area off the surgery where the in-patient animals lived while they recovered, Aaron was already opening the cage of a large golden lab. Grabbing an extending lead, he slipped the catch onto her collar, then held the lead out to Finn while he pulled on an old jacket that had been hanging on the door.
"Thanks," he said, opening the air into the bitingly cold morning.
Finn closed the door behind them and said nothing as they walked around the end of Smithy into the field at the back of the cottage.
For a minute or two they walked in silence; Finn knew enough about people, knew enough about Aaron, to know that there was no rush; that he would speak when he felt ready; meantime he held tight to the excitable dog that seemed desperate to run despite the line of stitches along her belly.
The wind cut bitterly across the open, exposed field, whipping into their faces as they trudged up the slight incline.
"He's right; I'm not good in the morning," began Aaron, "and with the lager...and all the stuff...y'know. But I shouldn't take it out on you and Paddy. I'm sorry."
"Ah, you're fine, Aaron; you've a lot to cope with and we did kind of hammer it yesterday."
"But that's the point," said Aaron as they gained the shelter of the trees and stood out of the wind while the dog sniffed happily at their feet. "I don't feel as though I have anything to cope with; it wasn't anything I did; it wasn't my mistake and just now, I really don't need to know anymore. Paddy is all the dad I need," he paused. "It's not wrong, is it? To feel like that?
"No, of course it's not; if that's how you feel now. But you need to think about the future, try to imagine if you will always feel this way," Finn paused, looking up into the trees above him as he tried to find the right words.
"Cain has offered you a DNA test," he continued. "You've refused it now, but there might come a day when Cain is no longer around. If you miss your chance now, you might regret it later. I'm not saying any way is the right or wrong one, just that you need to think carefully before closing any doors."
Aaron nodded. "I have...I am...I think I have. Come on, lets go back, it's freezing," he turned to head back towards Smithy. "I will think about it some more."
"You can always pick up the phone if you need to talk it though again," said Finn as they neared the cottage.
Rounding the corner, they were suddenly assailed by strident tones.
"Aaron! Aaron wait!" Leaving the shop, Chas veered towards them.
"Just ignore her," growled Aaron.
"We can't do that. Who is it anyway?" asked Finn, turning to look even as Aaron tried to divert him towards Smithy.
"My mother," answered Aaron shortly, still trying to urge Finn towards the cottage.
"Oh! Right! Mind if I go and say hello?"
Before Aaron could answer, Finn had swung away from him, heading towards Chas. Watching him for a moment, Aaron bit his lip, wishing they hadn't seen her, wishing Finn had ignored her; understanding that Finn was never going to ignore her.
Trotting a little, Finn quickly caught up with Chas.
"Hi, I'm Finn," he held out his hand to her, "I'm so glad to meet you at last Chas."
"Oh!" surprise made her voice shriller than ever. "Hello!" She let her hand be taken in a warm shake of greeting.
"Chas; I'd really like to have a chat with you," Finn began easily, "could we perhaps go somewhere warmer; I've been out with Aaron and the dog for a while and it's bitter."
Almost in unison, they looked towards Smithy; Aaron stood poised at the door, his face impossible to read.
"Yes. Yes...sure," said Chas, dragging her attention back to the man standing so surprisingly beside her. She began to walk down the road; glancing at him, hoping he didn't notice her scrutiny, she realised that Aaron had said very little about him; beyond his name, beyond the fact that he was a vicar; he had said very little. She was surprised to find him so young; more or less ages with herself. She was surprised to find him so tall, so good looking, so manly; and yet Aaron had said he was gay; he had said that much.
Less than a minute later she was letting them into her cottage; relieved it was empty for this unexpected guest.
"Coffee?" she asked and was glad he accepted the offer; it gave her something to do for a minute, two minutes; a chance to gather her thoughts.
"I'm really pleased to have had the chance to come to Emmerdale," said Finn quietly, gently, as he moved around the room, looking at the pictures on the walls. "Aaron has spoken so much about the village; it's nice to see it, be able to picture it. To meet the people he cares about," he said, turning to accept the mug of coffee from Chas's trembling hand.
"He's coping, Chas," he continued, "I just wanted to reassure you of that. He's told me a little – I know your relationship with him hasn't always been an easy one..."
"I've always loved him!" exclaimed Chas, interrupting him. "Always! Even when..." she stopped abruptly.
"Even when you left him, a child, a struggling teenager; with a homophobic father whose casual hatred led to years of confusion, self denial and anger. It could have all gone so wrong Chas." Finn spoke so quietly yet his words were like a knife; he knew this wasn't a conversation he could have without causing pain. "He was lucky, Chas; he found Paddy – and I know that was because you were going out with him at the time – and it is to your eternal credit that you didn't drag him away from him. But its Paddy and Jackson who have made him the man he is, the man he can face being."
"Does he hate me?" Chas whispered, a sob catching quietly in her voice. She couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see the disappointment in this man's eyes.
"No Chas, he doesn't hate you," said Finn, his voice warmer now with reassurance, "far from it; but he doesn't understand you, understand your relationship with him; when he thinks of you, he's still that confused kid you walked away from."
For a moment, neither of them spoke; Finn waiting, gave her chance to calm her breathing before he asked her.
Wiping her eyes, smudging her heavy mascara, she wished it was over; she wished it had never begun.
"Chas." His voice was at its quietest. "Because Aaron is my friend, because I care about him, I need to ask you. Have you been honest with him? To the very bottom of your soul; have you told him the truth?" He looked at her, scared that she didn't meet his eye.
"Chas! You have to tell him," his voice was pleading now. "If you know something that you don't tell him now and he finds out later, you will lose him, believe me! He won't be able to cope with that!"
"Is he having a DNA test?" She didn't look at him; she looked at the carpet, at her feet.
"No, not at the moment," said Finn.
"Why not?" questioned Chas, her voice sharper, more like her usual acerbic tones.
"He says he doesn't need to know," said Finn briefly.
"Do you think he should?"
"I think he needs to think about it carefully; and when he's done that and if he's still of the same opinion; then I think we need to respect his wishes." He paused, looked at Chas. "Unless there is anything you want to tell him that might help him with that decision?"
"I wanted it to be Gordon," sobbed Chas, "I wanted it so much, but I don't know...I think...have you looked at them? Close together? I think it might be Cain!" As she said his name, her voice crumbled, cracked; full-blown heart-wrenching sobs began to wrack her body.
Surprising himself, Finn took her in his arms, holding her as the tears flowed freely; as she cried bitterly for the last twenty years.
At last she stopped and embarrassed, moved away to the kitchen; Finn heard the sudden spurt of the tap being turned full on. When she returned the dark hair framing her face was wet, her skin still damp.
"What am I going to do?" she asked.
"The only thing you need to do, Chas, is be honest with him; which might be one of the hardest things you have ever had to do. Just lay your soul bare naked before him and trust him."
Flinging herself quickly away from him, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened again, Chas thrust the heels of her hands into her eyes, stifling the betraying emotion in a gesture Finn recognised.
When she turned back to face him, to look him in the eye; he could see a new determination in her face, a resolution.
"I'll do my best," she said. "I'll talk to him."
"That's all anyone can ask of you," he reassured her gently.
It was sometime later that he finally left her; he'd taken her to the precipice at the edge of her world and pulled her back, then led the conversation back to a more even keel; he'd led her carefully away from the pain he had made her face, presented her with a hope for the future. He had even made her smile. He left her promising to call him if she ever needed to talk to someone; to him.
He walked further down the street, turning down the lane opposite the garage where Aaron worked; the garage he was avoiding going to for the moment.
He found the building easily enough; turning the handle, the door was open as it should be, welcoming him in. He let his fingers drift over the heavy red velvet curtains as he stood in the doorway for a second or two, drinking in the peace before him.
He slid into one of the seats, bowed his head and tried to empty his mind of everything before slowly letting the drip, drip, drip of his worries return, presenting them to the higher authority he followed, asking for help.
He couldn't have said how long he had been there before he knew he wasn't alone; eyes upon his back sent a shiver of apprehension tingling down his spine. He turned and saw the older man standing hesitantly at the back of the church. Realising he had been spotted, he came forward.
"Ashley Thomas," he said, "Reverend Ashley Thomas," he held out his hand.
"I'm Finn..." he began.
"I know who you are," smiled Ashley almost shyly. "I've read your book, and in the diocesan magazine – your articles."
Unable to help himself, Finn blushed.
"And I know you're Aaron's friend," Ashley continued.
"Yeah," smiled Finn, "I just needed a word with The Boss about that," he nodded his head upwards. "Does Aaron ever...?"
"No!" laughed Ashley. "Aaron is a strictly weddings and funeral church goer – and then only when Paddy twists his arm."
They talked for a while longer before Ashley excused himself; left the peace of the building to Finn.
In the silence, in his mind, Finn played over all the times he had met Aaron, all the people he had met through Aaron, all their conversations; he was doing his best, wasn't he? In the silence he sought his own reassurance.
...
In the darkest corner of the garage, with the doors closed against the village, he struggled to stifle the retching that twisted his guts as he tried to throw up into the old and dirty sink. But there was nothing; he'd hardly eaten since whenever...whenever this all began; now he couldn't get it out of his mind, couldn't escape from the hell of uncertainty. Splashing cold water from the single tap onto his face, he looked towards the door; he needed to see him; needed to make him understand that they had to take the test; that he had to know if he was his father.