Hamish is sat on the sofa when I get in, John in the shower. "Can I have a sleepover?"
"What? Why?"
"I saw it on TV and it looks really fun. Lots of sweets and pillow fights and films. Please?"
"No." Why on earth would I want children in the flat?
"Please? We'll be good." Hamish has shuffled off the sofa and is stood in front of me.
"Ask Dad. If this happens, I'm leaving for the night and only coming back when you're all in bed."
"So I can?" Hamish clenches his hands together and grins.
"I said ask Dad." Hamish does straight for the bathroom door, but I catch him. "Wait until he's out of the shower. It won't be long."
"What do I do now then?"
"You wait. Maybe make him a cup of tea.I do that when I want something." I sit down, picking up the book I'd left on the sofa this morning.
"I'm not allowed."
"Oh well then," I mutter, wondering whether I should email the publisher about the grammatical error I'd found.
"Fa," Hamish moans "Help, please?"
"But I don't want the sleepover."
"Please?"
"Fine." I sigh, standing up. I throw the book on the sofa. I was reading it aloud earlier anyway, better to finish it like that.
Hamish grins and runs to the kitchen. "Get the milk." I fill the kettle and take the milk when Hamish brings it, then pick him up. "Okay, so what I've learnt on convincing your Dad…you really know this, I would say, but hug him, tell him you love him. A compliment or two. Simple."
"Yes. Biscuits too?"
"Yes, probably. And get your Dad's favourite mug too."
"Oops," Hamish says as I turn upon hearing the sound of smashing pottery. "No no no. I'll fix it." He bends to pick up the pieces of the cup.
"Hai, move back. You might cut your fingers. Go sit in the lounge and I'll clear up, we'll still make Dad tea, just use another cup."
"I have to fix it." Hamish's lip is trembling by now, and his jaw is stiff.
"Don't get upset. It was an accident, it's too smashed to fix. Come here." I lift Hamish up and sit him on a chair, probably better as his feet are bare and the cup is completely shattered. I take the brush and clear everything, then bring Hai to me and hug him.
"Why are you crying?"
"Dad's going to be mad and and…" he lets put a sob then carries on "I won't be allowed people over and I wanted them here because it's nice and-"
"Shhhh." I wipe Hamish's eyes. "He won't be angry, okay? I'll tell him I broke it."
"Broke what?" John walks in, damp haired and in his dressing gown.
I straighten up, lifting Hamish with me. "Your mug, I knocked off of the surface. I'm sorry, love."
"For god's sake Sherlock. That was specially painted for me. "
"I'm sorry. Hai wanted to make you tea because he has something ask. And I did that."
"It was an accident, I know, but I can't help being annoyed." John sighs and takes the second mug I'd gotten out and finishes making the tea."Hai, why have you been crying?"
Hamish sniffs. "Haven't."
"Tell me. And what did you want to ask?" John takes Hamish from me and carries him to the living room, still afraid of the shards of pot he thinks I'd have missed (as if).
"He thought you'd be too mad with me to give him permission for what he wants." John raises an eyebrow at me but nods, and I follow him with my own drink. John knew from the beginning I was covering for Hamish, but doesn't seem too bothered by it. At least, he doesn't want to upset Hamish by asking him to apologise or admit that it was his fault.
"Oh Hai. It's fine." I pick up John's cup with mine and follow them, leaving it on the table in front of them. "What is it you want?"
"Uhm…Could I…would you-"
"Since when were you shy?" John tickles Hamish until he relaxes."Go on then."
"Can I have a sleepover?"
"Oh. Right yes, of course. No more than two people though."
"Really? Thank you!" Hamish jumps up and runs down the living room. "Yay."
"I'm glad you're happy. Now who are you going to invite?"
The discuss names which I couldn't really care less about (I usually reassess each of Hamish's friends when I see them, instead of trying to remember details, it's better that way). "Can I have it Friday?"
"Uh, no sorry. We have a visitor then."
"Who? What?"
"Uhm. Well, we were going to tell you tonight anyway. A social worker." John pulls Hamish back to the sofa to sit down, and I rest on the arm.
"What's that?"
"She works with kids who don't have mums and dad, or if they have a bad time at home. So she helps find new parents for them."
"Is she taking me away? You're not bad." Hamish moves, clinging to John.
John laughs. "No, no. Don't worry. It's nothing definite, she wanted to come see me and Father, to see whether we want to look after one of these kids."
"We don't," I say and John rolls his eyes.
"You know you're fine with the idea now, Sherlock. Stop it." He turns back to Hamish. "Anyway, we're not sure on it. We were going to see what you think? Would you like a brother or sister?"
"Yes! A brother. And my age. And it would be like a sleepover every night. Can it be Billy?"
"You can't choose like that Hai. But we'll see. If this does happen, and I'm not saying anything will-"
"Hopefully not," I mutter, laying back and hooking my legs over the edge of the sofa.
"You are so stubborn, even when I know you disagree becauseyou like to argue," John says, looking up at me, despite his tone, there's a smile in his eyes "You'll have to like the little boy or girl too, Hai. And we won't do anything unless you agree, okay? We're treating you like an adult here, so when the social worker comes, we expect you to behave like one okay?"
"I will." Hamish says "And a sleepover Saturday?"
"Fine."
"Can I go play?" Hamish is starting to get up already.
"Of course." Hamish runs off to his room "Come here, twit." John pulls me down next to me. "Stop making stuff up just to prove a point. I know you're lying."
"No." John shakes his head and kisses me.
"You are a ridiculous man."
"Dad, Dad, Dad," Hamish says hastily, pulling at John's coat "Can we get popcorn and films and can we have beanbags and-"
"No beanbags Hai. And we're going shopping tomorrow morning.You can pick some sweets and a film for tomorrow night."
"Okay." John turns back to the social worker, who'd been looking through Hamish's box of toys. Hamish had taken a shine to her and after talking to John had gone back over and was now explain the properties of his Silly Putty.
"He has a lot of things here," She says, getting up from the floor "Would you say he's spoilt?"
"In common terms."
John looks irritated. "What Sherlock means is, we have the money to get Hai whatever he wants-and one of us will sometimes come home with gifts-but he knows the value of money. He's intelligent and we've started to give him pocket money if he does chores. That's just a little dusting though.''
"I'm good at that. Can I do it now?" Hamish asks, propelling himself onto John's knee.
"Maybe later," John says quietly, and Hamish leans against him.
"And with the nature of your work, how safe is the house?"
"My brother is very good with security measures, we're safe. Plus, John has army training and I'm skilled in a fight."
"Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but good. And it says here you do 'experiments', Sherlock? What does that mean exactly?" She lifts her glasses onto her head as she finishes reading. She didn't do that before. Wants to assess me.
"Currently, I have a tongue in the freezer infested with beetles and a cow's liver in the microwave, awaiting preparation. However, Hamish doesn't see anything too gory. And I don't do anything dangerous when he's around. And when are you planning to tell your soon to be ex-husband you're pregnant?"
"What-I-what?"
"I told you not to do this, Sherlock, to keep it to yourself for once." John rubs his face with his hands. "You don't have to answer that."
"Okay…That was just freaky. Anyway-" she's lost her train of thought. "We'd need to do a risk assessment, but that doesn't seem too bad."
"It could be. There is a lot of potential danger there." John elbows me in the ribs "Ow. But we'll try our best. Hamish hasn't been hurt before."
"Seems fine. And the work is good?"
"Well, of course it is, it's the most-"
"She means does it pay well, Sherlock," John interrupts.
"I know, I just dislike the phrasing. Anyway, I don't care about pay, I accept any case that's interesting. John works at the surgery most of the time."
"Does that pay well? We'll need to see conformation but…"
"We do get payment, he just doesn't pay attention. Thinks our money materialises. We're doing quite well, yes."
"Good. Hamish, can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Do you want us to leave?" John asks, ever tactful. He stands but I have no intention of moving.
She shakes her head and John leaves anyway to replenish the tea.
Of course, she asks Hamish some inane questions and he looks annoyed, but answers perfectly politely. After that, though John's made her a drink, she insists that she has to leave.
"Oh, by the way Grace is in a good home now. The parents are really lovely. She'll grow up great."
"Really? That's wonderful." John looks a little sad but hands her a notepad. "I collected these things for here, case notes, news clippings, photos and things that were in the flat of her mum, and I found out about her. So when she's old enough, Grace will know about her mother."
"Thank you." The social worker seems surprised and promises to keep us updated on the girl. John sees her out and comes back to the sofa, settling with an arm around me.
"Alright?"
"Yeah, I think it went fine. You were good. Anyway, you should know."
"She called her supervisor as soon as she left, she seems happy enough. Going to speed through our papers."
"Fantastic!"
"Hamish sit down." I'm leaving in a minute, but John had to go out to get some more chocolate or something, possibly regarding an allergy.
"But they're here soon!"
"Not for another half hour. Look, when the larger hand gets to the 12."
"I know but-"
"Then sit. I'm trying to play and you keep disturbing me. Or you could accompany me?"
Hamish looks excited "Yes!"
"We'll carry on with that I was teaching you last week." An easy little song, something similar to that in beginners manuals, but I like this version better.
Hamish plays with a fierce concentration, watching me in the window's reflection and copying as close as he can. "Dad's here!" he drops the violin and runs downstairs.
"Be careful with that!" I yell, but he pays no attention.
"Are they here? Are they? Are they?" Hamish is jumping up and down, trying to look past John.
"No. Go into the living room."
"Bye." I put on my coat and make for the door.
"You're actually leaving? I thought that was a pretence. For god's sake." John seems stressed, it's more sudden that usual.
"I don't want to be here."
"Well neither do I!" Hamish jumps at the shout. "Sorry. Argument at the shop. Shoulder hurts. Now I'm been left in a flat with 3 young boys and-"
"Oh John. I didn't think about how you-"
"You never do."
"I try. I'll stay. You can have a quiet night and I'll get anything the kids want okay? Just don't be mad."
John's face lightens;his body slackens "You're sweet. You have to be pushed into it, but you are. You don't have to do that. Just stay here, it'll be better, you don'thave to make extra effort."
"Fine."
"And no experiments." Hamish and I groan at the same time
"But I wanted to show them-"
"No Hai. Films and some games."
"So you're okay?"
"Good enough." I hear a car and Hamish rushes to the window. "And here we go…"
