I'm on the wrong side of the bed when I wake up. Got the wrong arm stretched out across the wrong pillow: with his head laid on it being the thing that's right. I open my eyes to observe the unusual situation, and I guess I move in the process, enough to disturb him, because then he frowns, opens his eyes to squint at me, shuts them again and laughs in a sleep-muffled kind of way.
"Yeah," I say. "Wrong way round."
"Mm. That's the way you went when you got off me."
He cuddles up.
"Nine-thirty," I say.
"That's alright, innit? They won't get here till, like, two or something, and that's if the buses are running okay."
"I know."
"Shall I make the coffee?"
"Thought you'd never ask..."
Our dressing gown is on the bed, so he sits up and reaches for it, and puts it on as he gets up.
"Won't be long," he says, and as he goes out of the room he hitches up the back of the robe to flash me his backside.
"Seen it all before," I say, and I hear him laughing as he goes off to the kitchen.
I shift across to the warmth he's left on my side of the bed.
:::::::
"D'you remember them fluffy bathrobes they had in the honeymoon hotel?"
Fuck. Does he know something?
I turn my head and watch his Adam's apple rise and fall as he swigs down the last of his coffee.
"What made you think of that?" I say.
"Well, with the lads here, I mean," he says, and he passes me his empty cup to put down next to my own. "We'll all be wanting showers and that in the one bathroom – and queuing for it, more like – so it would be a help, wouldn't it, if we had them robes for anyone to, like, sling on."
Okay. Maybe he doesn't know anything, and his mentioning the hotel has no connection with the fact we're going back there.
"Could get some, I guess."
"Should've put them ones from the hotel in our suitcase, eh?" He smiles. I think he's half joking: but only half.
"They charge people who do that."
"Arrest them?" he says.
"What? No. Not that kind'a charge. Charge the cost of them. They've got everyone's credit card number, ain't they, so they get their money from you for anything that's gone missing when you've checked out."
"Oh, right. But, actually, it would've been Cheryl they charged, wouldn't it, cos it was her that paid for our honeymoon."
"Fair point. We should'a nicked them, in that case."
He laughs.
"Anyway, we've got that spare dressing gown, in't we, that Amy got me. So we could get that out for if anyone wants one while they're here."
"Good idea, yeah. Save going out shopping again."
He's quiet for a minute, then he says, "What about them?" He indicates our coffee mugs – the ones he lifted from another hotel. "Did they ever charge you for them, in the end?"
"Nope. Got away with that."
"Nice one. Right, we better get up, I s'pose. We've not got much to do, but I want to get their duvet covers put on so we haven't got to faff around doing that when they're here. Our one as well, actually – our new one that Cheryl gave us."
"We said that yesterday."
"And the day before."
"Better do it today, then, Steven. After..."
"After?" he says.
"After."
So he twists round to kiss me. I push the cover down, and he straddles my lap, his hands on my shoulders, his dressing gown hanging open. I hold his face while we kiss; stroke his hair upwards from the nape of his neck, against the grain. Rub his ears between my thumbs and fingers till it annoys him and he shakes me off, and I laugh.
"What's funny?" he says.
"You are."
"Shut up."
"You shut up," I say, and kiss him again.
He gropes me to find out how I'm doing, and he must like what he finds, because he grabs the lube and says, "Give us your hand," and pumps out a blob of it.
I do the honours. Get a squeak out of him when I touch him, because he's warm and the lubricant is cold. Warms up soon enough though, anyways.
He shuffles forward on his knees to position himself, and sinks on to me. His mouth drops open with that first Ah, and stays that way, his voice free, careless, same as his body. I hold the flapping dressing gown clear for a minute to give me sight of the tension in his thighs and his hollowing belly. Then I hold his waist, and steady him as I thrust up.
Now and then we snatch a kiss, but it's a melee, so our mouths are as likely to miss each other as not, and when they manage to land, our teeth clash and jolt us off our rhythm till we wrestle our way back to it, and on we go.
He's close to the edge, and all it takes is a couple of rough strokes of his hand on his dick before he comes.
I'm almost there too – can't last much longer – and he's flagging in any case: his head bows on top of my shoulder. I say something in to his ear – I don't know what, but I must have said something, because he answers, "Me too." – and then I come inside him, and it's one of those times when, in that dark heat, I can't feel where I end and he begins.
I circle my arms tightly around him and pull him to me. I'm still in him, and we stay like that. Our hearts rattle one against the other, and then slow, and still we stay.
When he lifts himself off me, he catches my cock as it falls out of him, and lays it down gently. Then he props himself against the headboard next to me.
"Alright?" I say.
He nods, smiles. "Better get these covers changed now, eh?"
"Yeah. After breakfast."
He looks at me. "Was that what you meant when you said 'after'? I thought you meant..."
I laugh. "No, Steven, I didn't mean after breakfast. But I do now. Come on."
:::::::
We've had a text from Declan saying they've arrived in town; and then they must have walked straight here without deviating or getting lost, because it seems like no time before the door buzzer goes.
Steven gets to it first.
"Hiya. Come up." Then he says to me, "It's them."
I open the flat door and step outside to meet them as they come up the stairs.
"Here they are," I say. "Alright? Come up."
They're both smiling.
"Hey, Dad." Declan reaches an arm round my neck, and I hug him back.
"In you go. Steven's in there."
Padraig is a stair or two behind.
"Hi, Dad," he says.
"Alright, son?" I put my arm round his shoulders, and guide him inside, then I go past them both in our hallway. "Steven must be..."
He appears. "Sorry, just checking the stove. Hiya, lads, alright?"
There's anxiety on Padraig's face as he gets his first look at Steven, and on Declan's too, although he hides it better. But there's no need, because what ever picture of Steven had embedded itself in their minds when he was taken ill, it's not the man in front of them now: he's still a little thin but he's not gaunt any more; there's colour in his cheeks; his hair is fresh; he looks happy and relaxed.
By the time they're hugging, I can see the relief in Declan's expression. Padraig's caution lessens, and when Steven says, "Now, do you do hugs these days, Padders?" he laughs and says, "Yeah, okay."
"I'm glad you've come," Steven says to them. "Happy Christmas."
"Yeah, happy Christmas," says Declan.
"D'you wanna stick your bags in the kids' room for now?"
"Is this all the luggage you've got?" I ask.
"Just hand luggage, yeah," says Declan. "We're wearing most of our clothes, aren't we, Pad, just so's we wouldn't have to pay for an extra bag."
"Yeah, I got, like, a T-shirt and a jumper and a hoodie on, and I got..." Padraig undoes his oversized parka, and unzips a pocket inside it. "I got a T-shirt in this one, and another T-shirt in this one, y'know, rolled up, so."
Steven laughs. "That's brilliant."
"That's how Steven dresses every time he leaves the house," I say. "Well, apart from the T-shirts in the pockets."
Steven resists rolling his eyes at me.
"No I don't," he says, "But I would do, if I was catching a plane – it's a well clever idea. Right, go and get yourselves sorted, eh? You know where the kids' room and the bathroom are. And I hope you're both hungry, cos there's a big pot of chilli nearly ready."
"Cool," says Padraig.
"We're starved," says Declan.
:::::::
Twenty minutes later, Steven is taking four plates, each piled with rice, in to the living room, while I bring the chilli – still bubbling in its pot – so we can all help ourselves.
Four plates at once, he's carrying, like he doesn't even have to think about it: nothing wrong with his balance any more.
The lads are in there.
"Taken some of your layers off, eh?" Steven asks them.
They smile.
"Looks different in here," Declan says.
"That'll be the Christmas tree," I say.
Declan laughs. "Apart from that."
"Is that some new prezzies under the tree?" Steven says.
"Yeah. For Luke and Leah, and the other one's for you and Dad."
"We've not put yours there yet. You still want to wait and open them when the kids are here? It's up to you – you haven't got to."
"It's fine," Declan says, "We'll wait."
"They better not be big, though," says Padraig, "Cos they gotta fit in our bags, so."
"They're wee," I tell him. "Fit in your pocket, with your T-shirts."
"Cool," he says, although he can't completely hide his disappointment that he's not getting a big present – luggage practicalities or not.
I've gone over to look at the gift bags under the tree: more specifically, the one for Steven and me.
"No peeking," says Declan. "It's not wrapped up – the kids' ones aren't either – cos we didn't want them ripped open if our bags got checked on the way over."
"Good thinking," says Steven.
"The walls weren't blue before," Padraig says. "That's what's different in here."
"Yeah they were," says Declan.
"No they weren't. Not when I came."
"Oh, yeah, no, I forgot. Last time – "
"You didn't let me come last time."
"I didn't not let you come, Pad. You were at school, that's all."
"It's the bookshelves," Steven says. "That's what's different – we never had them when either of you was here. Me and your dad put them up."
"They look boss," Declan says.
"Ta. Right, come and sit down, and help yourselves. Oh, I'll fetch some water."
"I'll get it," I say.
By the time I'm back from the kitchen, Declan and Padraig are eating. Steven dishes out mine and his.
"Didn't have breakfast?" I say to the lads.
"We did," says Declan, "At the airport, before we got on the plane, so that was, like, hours ago."
"Yeah," says Padraig, "And all's we've had since then is some crisps when we were waiting for the bus, didn't we, and those biscuits we had on the train, but they were like, this small."
Steven laughs. "You're like your dad, you are. Anyway, there's seconds in the pot if you want it."
"This is vegetarian, yeah?" I say. "It's alright, considering."
"It's ace," says Declan.
"Is that the bed?" Padraig asks, indicating the futon-chair-bed-whatever that we've borrowed from Amy.
"That's it, yeah," I say.
"And we've tried folding it out," Steven says, "Just to see if it'll fit – and it does, as long as whoever's in it doesn't get out the wrong side, cos then you'll be in the Christmas tree. It's dead easy, anyway, so we'll want it folded up again in the mornings so it's not in the way, specially when the kids are here, okay?"
"Sound, yeah," says Declan.
"Who's having the sofa?" asks Padraig.
"Don't mind," his brother says. "You can have which you like."
"I'll have the sofa."
"So," Steven says, "We'll get the beds ready before we go to work – the duvets are in the kids' room at the minute, you probably saw – and then, what we thought was, if you want, you can come to the club with us."
"Me as well?" Padraig says.
"Course, yeah, both of you."
"You'd be in the kitchen with Steven," I say. "I can't have you out in the club, I'm afraid."
"But most of the staff come to the kitchen in their breaks anyway, so you'd still see people, right, have a chat, and you can still hear the music. I mean, you don't have to come – you can stay here if you want, and watch what you want on telly, and we've got plenty of food in, so you can help yourselves to snacks and that – but it's just, I'll be home tomorrow and Sunday nights, and me and your dad'll both be home Monday night, so this is the only night you can come and see us at work really. That's only if you want to, though."
"Yeah, we will," Padraig says, then he looks at Declan for confirmation.
"Sure, yeah, that'd be good."
Steven opens his mouth, but I interrupt, because all the while he's talking, he's not eating.
"Good," I say. "Steven finishes work before me, anyways, so you'll be home here before midnight, and get your heads down. It's a long day you'll have had."
"Fridays are busy, I guess, are they?" Declan asks.
"At the club? Yeah, as busy as Saturdays, or busier sometimes."
"All the staff are on, then. I mean, I guess they must be, as it's so busy." He forks another mouthful of chilli and rice.
"Most of them are, yeah, generally speaking. I get casuals to fill in if I need more bodies." And then I realise that when he says 'all the staff', he most likely means Alicia, so I say to him, "You – "
Steven jumps in: "How's little baby Rosie doing?"
He accompanies this with a well-aimed kick under the table. I don't react, but I do shut up.
"It's her four weeks birthday today," says Padraig. "She's, like, really small, except when you see pictures of when Mum came home with her, you can see she's big now to what she was. And she knows us, doesn't she. Like, she knows it's me."
"No she doesn't," says Declan. "She can't even see properly yet."
"She does. I'm telling you. Okay so maybe she can't see me properly, but she knows me."
"Might know your voice, eh?" Steven says. "Or just, from how you are with her. I think babies do know."
"How about your mum?" I ask them. "Getting on okay, is she?"
"She says it's different from when she had us," Declan says. "Says she's more tired this time, but less worried about getting things wrong. I mean, it's mad when you think about it, cos she was younger than I am now, when she had me. I can't imagine having kids till I'm thirty at least."
"Good," I say.
:::::::
I've been in work from early doors, leaving Steven to bring the lads with him when he comes in at his usual time.
I go and see them when I get the chance, which isn't until a good hour in to Steven's shift.
Padraig is sitting on a bar stool, his legs swinging. Declan is chopping tomatoes, with his sleeves rolled up and an apron on to protect the shirt he was ironing for himself when I left home. Steven is putting a tray of something in the oven.
"Pinched that from the bar, did you?" I say, indicating Padraig's stool.
"Hiya," says Steven. "Yeah, Kwame fetched it in for us. He said no one was sitting down anyway."
"Okay."
"Declan's making me salsa, look. And Paddy's been helping finish off me empanadas."
"There's a stamp that you do round the edge," Padraig says, "So's people know what's on the inside. You've to not press too hard, cos you're not meant to cut right through."
"Good lad," I say. "Leave you to it, then. Places to go, people to see..."
"Alright," says Steven, "See you in a bit." He glances over his shoulder at me, and smiles.
:::::::
Alicia is on a double shift, so I go up to Members when it's around the time for her meal break.
She must have just delivered a round of drinks to the party in one of the booths, and now she's collecting their empties on to her tray: she hasn't let her promotion make her aloof from mucking in. It's an ex-football player and his missus at that table, and a couple of guests of theirs, and evidently they've drawn Alicia in to their conversation. Four pairs of eyes on her; smiles on four faces. One of the men puts a note – looks like a twenty from here – on the tray in between the empty glasses, and she thanks him, but it's the women she says a final few words to before she comes away. She's smart. Keep the women on side, and when they have their say over where to go next Friday night or the one after, they're more likely to choose us.
When she comes back to the bar, I say to her, "I'll stick around up here while you go for your break."
"Okay, thanks."
"My lads are in tonight, in with Steven in the kitchen, if you want to go say hello."
"Aww, yeah, I will do. Georgiou said they were in tonight."
Then, seeing as Steven isn't here to stop me from being an embarrassing dad, I say, "Declan will be pleased to see you..."
:::::::
I'm doing the rounds, schmoozing the clientele, when my phone buzzes.
"Excuse me, I have to take this," I say to whichever VIP I'm talking to, and I say in to the phone as I walk off, "Brendan Brady."
"Eh? I know it's Brendan Brady," says Steven.
"Yeah. I didn't want them to know I was talking to my fancy piece..."
He laughs. "Didn't want who to know?"
"Type of punter I need to look professional in front of..."
"They can't hear you now, then?"
"Nope. I'm all yours. Everything okay?"
"Good, yeah. It's just, Declan wants to go out in the club – only for a quick drink and that – so I said I'd better ask you first as it's meant to be over-twenty-ones."
I check the time: there's still ten or fifteen minutes before Alicia's meal break ends.
"Alicia there, is she?"
"Yeah."
"So he wants to go with her?"
"Yeah."
"Tell him it's fine."
"Ta. See you later."
:::::::
I don't get five minutes to myself till after the kitchen has closed.
"Almost cleaned up already?" I say when I go in there.
"Yeah, with these two's help, we've done it well fast."
"Well done, lads. Tired you out, has he?"
"No," says Padraig, looking about ready to drop.
"I've done you a sandwich, Bren – d'you want me to leave it for you to have here, or shall I take it home for when you get in?"
"I'll have it now, in a minute. Don't worry, I won't make crumbs."
He smiles. "I'll leave it on the side for you."
"Pick your brains for a second, Steven, before you go?" I stand by the door, indicate for him to come with me.
"Okay. Lads, can you put them Tupperwares in that fridge? You'll see which shelf from the colours of the lids, alright? Won't be a sec." Then he follows me out of the kitchen door, in to the passage behind the bar. "What d'you want? The dirt on Declan and Alicia?"
"What? No. There better not be dirt, is there?"
"I'm joking. So, what is it?"
"The staff room." We go along to the end, and I let us in: luckily there's no one in there. "Needs work, doesn't it."
"Yeah, it does, yeah."
I open the toilet door with my foot, and peer inside. "Yeah. So, what do we do?"
He frowns at me. "What you asking me for?"
"Because you're good at stuff like this."
"Am I?"
"Yes. You know, visualising stuff. Seeing potential, whatever. Like with your kitchen. Go on."
He looks doubtful, but he thinks about it, nodding along to the music while he does. Goes out of the staff room for a second, and comes back in, and looks around again.
"Right. What if you took the door off from where it is, yeah? And the doorway – is this bit of wall holding the ceiling up, or could you get rid?"
I knock on the wall either side of the door frame. "Sounds like plasterboard. So yeah, could take it down."
"Then you'd put a new door..." He goes out in to the passage. "Here instead. Cos all this bit's just wasted space, innit, so you could extend the staff room along to here, just before the door to the bar. I mean, you stopped keeping boxes piled up here after you tripped over one, didn't you."
"Stupid place to leave a box."
"Exactly." Then he ushers me back in to the room. "And then, can you get small lockers instead of these ones? I mean, they're pretty knackered anyway – that one dun't even lock – and they don't need to be full-length ones, do they. Cos you could have coat hooks on the wall behind the new door, eh? And then the lockers can just be for people's bags and bits and bobs, and folded-up clothes if they've got changed. So then, right, if you've got lockers that are, like, half as big as these, or even less, then you can actually make the loo bigger. Because that's where people get changed if they get changed. Yeah, put a better mirror in there an' all. And a better whatsit fan. Extractor. Like, a really good one."
"Okay."
He turns his attention back to the room itself. "Get rid of this seat, and get a little mini sofa. Cos they don't hang out in here much, do they, but if someone wants to sit and have a rest in their break, at least let them have something to sit on that's not manky."
"I was thinking if we bring it up to scratch, Martha can use it for a dressing room, assuming she's not changed her mind about working here once a month."
"Well, then, put a table there – could even be one that folds out when you need it – and a mirror with a decent light for her. And as well, you could put a long mirror on the back of the new door, yeah, cos that would make the room look bigger, wouldn't it."
"Is that it?"
"And decorate as well, obviously."
"Okay. I'll give that builder fella a call after the holidays – the one who did your kitchen."
"Pawel."
"Pawel. Get him to price it up, so I'll have a ballpark figure for Alastair when I run it past him."
"Good. Right, is that it then? Cos I'd better get Paddy and Declan home."
"That is it then. Thank you." I stop him before we leave the staff room: take his face in my hands and look at him, and kiss him, and breathe in the faint cooking smells that are in his hair and on his clothes, and feel the heat of the kitchen on his skin. "Very much."
:::::::
The lights are off when I get home, and it's quiet.
I have a very quick shower, then pour myself a whiskey in the kitchen and bring it to our bedroom.
I take off my towel and put on a T-shirt and boxers. Steven doesn't wake up until I'm getting in to bed.
"Hiya," he whispers.
"Shove over, will you?"
"Sorry." He shuffles across, just enough for me to get in. He's got pyjamas on – one of the pairs Amy got him.
"Thought I'd find you all playing video games or something."
"Too tired."
"They admitted it?"
"Not exactly." Steven pulls the cover up over our heads, as if we would otherwise be overheard. "I waited till Paddy went off to the bathroom, then I said to Dec, we best all get to bed because your brother looks wiped out. And then when Declan went to the bathroom,, I said the same thing to Paddy – your brother looks wiped out from your long day, so we better not keep him up. So then we all said goodnight and went to bed."
"Nice tactics..."
"I know. It was true anyway, though – they were tired out from everything. So I reckon they were glad to be told."
We lie for a while, in silence but for our breathing. Then I say – whisper – "Thanks for everything you did today."
"I didn't do nothing."
"You fed them. You babysat them all night."
"It was nice having them there at work. Everyone was good with them. Paddy was a little bit shy at first, but Georgiou had a little chat with him about music, and he was alright after that."
"How about Deccy?"
"With Alicia, you mean? He was dead cool, like, 'Oh, hi, hey, how you doing?' – "
"Nice accent there."
" – But when she asked if he fancied a quick little shimmy in the club with her before her break was over, he said yes before she even finished asking."
"Not so cool there, then."
"No." Steven laughs the kind of laugh he reserves for the quiet and the dark, that comes out as a burst or two of air. "I think it's nice, don't you? Like, nothing's gonna happen, cos they live in different countries, and they wouldn't just have a... you know. Because Dec doesn't do casual, does he, and I don't know if Alicia does, but in any case I bet she wouldn't do it with her boss's teenage son. So it's just sort of sweet."
"That's what she said to me about him – said he's a sweetheart."
"Aww."
"Better get to sleep, Steven."
"Mm. Got to fetch the kids in the morning." He kisses me. "Night night. I love you."
"I love you too."
:::::::
I'm woken by the sound of the shower running. It's not like our old place, where the water in the pipes was so loud it was impossible to sleep through; it's just that I'm not used to someone else being in our shower while Steven is asleep right here beside me, so any sound at all is unaccustomed.
I wait till it turns off, then I slide out of bed, put on the dressing gown, and go outside in time to see who it is coming out of the bathroom. It's Declan. He's got on the other dressing gown – Steven's one from his hospital stay.
"Morning," I say.
"Shh. Pad's still asleep."
"Might as well let him. You sleep okay?"
"Great, yeah. Can I get some breakfast?"
"Course. You know where everything is?"
"Yep."
"Okay. I'm just gonna..."
I take my turn in the bathroom, then, when I'm back in our bedroom getting dressed, Steven wakes up.
"The lads around?" he asks.
"Declan is. Padraig's asleep, apparently. I'm gonna go see if Declan's figured out how to use the coffee machine..."
"Right, I won't be a sec."
:::::::
When Steven comes in to the kitchen, he's got our dressing gown on – the same one Declan saw me wearing a few minutes ago.
That feeling is still there. It rises in me like it always has, speeding my heart rate and lodging in my throat: my shame at the evidence – walking in to the room, in front of my son – that I share my life and my bed with a man.
It rushes in my head, drowning out their conversation and blurring my vision.
Then I'm out of it, though, as fast as I went under. I can move again, and not to lash out or run. I can breathe, feel the air on my skin: the clarity of it. I know something.
I know what this shame was, that washed over me just now. Not shame at who and what I am with Steven; but shame that I used to be ashamed.
"Brendan?"
"Mm?"
"I said, can you stick another couple of slices in the toaster?"
"Oh. Yeah."
I do so.
"Ta. And you best get off soon to fetch the kids." Then he says to Declan, "Cos they'll be busting to see you and Paddy."
"Does Amy know I'm coming on my own?" I ask. "Or will I be a pleasant surprise for her?"
Steven laughs. "She doesn't know, no. If she rings up, I'll tell her, but she dun't usually ring, does she, unless we're late getting there."
"Can I come?" says Declan.
"No," I say, "Your brother'll be up soon, you won't want – "
"It's fine," says Steven. "I've got some bits of shopping to get, so me and Paddy can do that. And he'll know you can't both go with your dad, Dec, cos there won't be enough room once Leah and Lucas are in the car. No, it's a good idea, eh, Brendan? The kids'll be well happy, seeing Declan turn up."
"Okay. Yep. Finish your toast, Deccy, then we'll head."
:::::::
I pick up my trainers in the hallway, and take them in to the bedroom.
Steven comes in when I'm sitting on the bed tying my laces.
"Paddy's woken up," he says. "I just heard Declan talk to him, just now when he went in to get dressed."
"Feel free to get dressed yourself..."
"So you can watch, you mean?"
"Me?" I say. We smile at each other.
"I'll wait till Paddy's had his shower, if he wants one, then I'll have mine." A pause. "Bren, were you alright in the kitchen before?"
"Yeah. I was just, I don't know if... Do you think Deccy wants to talk about Seamus? Is that why he wants to come with me? Cos it's the first time I've seen him – it'll be the first time I've been on my own with him, just me and Declan – since he was over here that time. That time we told him, I mean. So it's..."
"I didn't realise. I mean, I didn't even think about that. But no, Brendan, right, I think he just wants to have a little drive out with his dad, yeah? And if he does bring it up, just say you don't wanna talk about it while you're driving."
"Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I can say that."
"That weren't even what I meant, though, when I asked if you were alright before. I meant, when I first went in to the kitchen, you went a bit, like... funny."
"Maybe you have that effect on people."
"I'm being serious."
I nod. Stand up and look at him.
"I was just thinking, things are good, Steven. I've... Things have changed."
"It's true," he says, and he steps closer, loops his arms round my neck. "You have changed."
:::::::
"So I wanted to talk to you on your own, anyways," Declan says.
We're on the outskirts of Chester now, and the roads are quiet: we should make good time.
"Okay."
"Without Ste, I mean."
"Yeah? Okay." I'm ready to say, Not while I'm driving, the minute he mentions my father.
"It's about the party."
"The party? The party." I breathe again.
"Yeah. Auntie Cheryl asked me to fill you in about a couple of things. Cos she said you don't talk on the phone with her for more than, like, two minutes."
"I can't get a word in edgewise, is the truth of it."
Declan laughs. "Well, what ever. Anyways, so, first thing is, she hasn't told you the dress code yet."
"There's a dress code?"
"Sort of, yeah. Hang on, I'll tell you what it said in their email. They've got a special Gmail address for the party – did you know?"
"Yeah, I was informed. Secret squirrel or something?"
"Secret squirrel party, yeah." He's found the relevant messages on his mobile. "Okay, so it says, Some people have asked – whatever, whatever – so, for the lunch, it says, It's not a wedding reception (even though it sort of is) so, ladies, no hats and no pastel suits required, unless hats and pastel suits fill you with joy (in which case, who even are you?) It's funny, sometimes they sign the emails, but even when they don't, you can tell if it's from Auntie Cheryl or if it's from Mitzeee. This one's obviously from Mitzeee."
"Sounds like her, yeah."
"So then she says, And for the men, take your cue from the fact the boys – she means you and Ste – will be wearing suits, but Brendan probably won't wear a tie, knowing him. The hotel isn't snooty about things like that, luckily. Bottom line, think 'country-house-smart', and you can't go wrong. Then it goes on to the evening thing, and it just says, Go as glam as you like (the boys will be wearing suits, if you were wondering.)"
"She seems confident we'll be wearing suits, considering she ain't even asked me."
"Why? What were you gonna wear, then?"
"I dunno. Probably suits."
He laughs.
"Me and Pad are gonna wear suits, anyhow."
"Have you bought them already? I'll pay for them if you – "
"It's fine. We're wearing the ones we got for Mum's wedding."
I nod. "Course. Padraig's still fits him, does it? He's grown since the summer."
"It didn't fit him then – you saw the photos, his sleeves came over his hands," he says.
"Ha, yeah, I remember now."
"Fits him better now."
"Good."
"Auntie Chez and Uncle Nate are bringing them over – our suits – cos they're bringing their car on the ferry, so they've got room."
"Coming down to visit you, are they, to pick them up?"
"No, they're gonna pick them up from Auntie Mary's, on their way to the port."
"How come Mary's got your suits?"
"She drove down from Belfast with Gran to see us – us and Mum – when Rosie was born. Took our suits back with her, to give to Auntie Cheryl."
"So your gran and your aunties, they know about this party, do they?"
"They do, yeah, because of the suits. Did you not want them to?"
"Doesn't matter. They're none of them my biggest fans, so I doubt it's gonna change their opinion of me one way or the other..."
"Yeah, to be fair, Gran practically crossed herself when we mentioned it, and Auntie Mary was all, like, 'How that man's got the nerve I'll never know,' sort'a thing."
"Jesus, I thought she was in the car just then. Near gave me a heart attack."
I glance at Declan: he's grinning.
"It was alright, though, anyways. Mum put them straight."
"Your mum did?"
"She said she's happy, and me and Pad are happy, and she wouldn't have Michael and Rosie if she was still with you, so she doesn't see why you shouldn't be happy too."
"That's..."
"Oh, the other thing about the party, was the food. Auntie Chez said there was a choice of either a set menu like you'd have at a wedding thing – you eat what you're given, kind'a thing, and if you're a vegetarian, you eat what you're given and it's risotto – or the other choice was, they use the normal menu from the hotel's restaurant, so everyone can have what they want. They've gone for the second one, but she said – "
"The restaurant menu?"
"Yeah. But it's more expensive. So she wants you to call her, today, if you want to do the set menu instead."
"I'll stick with the restaurant menu," I say, because Steven likes to choose his lunch for himself.
:::::::
Where we are now is where I used to take the road to the hospital, instead of carrying on to Amy's. I always think it when we come this way. This time, with Declan in the car and not Steven, I say it out loud: "That's the way to the hospital."
He doesn't say anything for a couple of minutes, then he says, "Ste's completely better, is he? Like, no bullshitting."
"Ninety-some percent. Ninety-nine. No bullshitting."
"What's the one percent?"
"Just, he's got to be aware, is all. Alert, for anything... any changes, symptoms, even though he's fine, y'know, there was nothing to see on the last scan he had."
"He's not been discharged, though."
"Only because they follow up. It's what they do. We've got to go back for another scan, but that's not for a few months now, so. You've nothing to worry about, okay?"
"Paddy was really scared."
"He's okay now, though, yeah?"
"Yeah. I mean, Mitzeee talked to him about it when she came to Dub, which helped a bit. And now we've seen Ste – not just on Facetime, but for real now – and seeing him at work last night, I... Pad said he feels loads better. Relieved, y'know?"
"I know."
"It must'a been like that, times a million, for you, Dad."
I nod. "Like waking up from a nightmare."
:::::::
"Wonder if they know we're coming," Declan says when we're getting out of the car.
"I doubt it, or they'd be waiting in the window. Come on."
I walk ahead of him up to the house, and ring the bell.
Amy opens the door. "Oh," she says.
"Wasn't room for all of us in the car. So it's just me and him." I turn sideways so she can see Declan, who's hanging back.
"Hello," she says, and she gives him a big, genuine smile.
"Hey," he says. "Alright?"
"Come in for a minute. You're a bit early, so they're still messing about getting ready. It's so nice to see you."
"Likewise," I say. "Or – oh – did you mean Declan?"
Amy ignores that. She holds the door open, and we go past her, in to the house.
"Kids," she calls out, "Look who's here."
Leah appears at the top of the stairs. "Brendan!" Then, "Declan!"
She runs down, and lets me lift her off from the last few stairs and swing her round. I put her down in front of Declan.
"Alright, Lee?" he says.
"We're having Christmas again," she says, "With you and Paddy."
"I know. How cool is that?"
Lucas is standing on the stairs now. "Declan!" he says, and he comes down, and holds his arms out to be picked up like his sister, so I oblige. Only, unlike Leah, he clings on when I go to put him down, so I keep holding him; this way, he's more on a level with Declan when they greet each other.
"I like your Batman jumper," says Declan.
"Where's Paddy?"
"He's at home with Steven," I tell him. "If he'd come, there wouldn'a been room for you, except in the boot."
Lucas laughs. Then he says, "Declan, I got a bike for Christmas."
"So did I," says Leah. "Brendan, can we bring them?"
"If your mum says so, you can."
"Yes," says Amy, "That's fine."
:::::::
When we get back to ours, the kids run to buzz the door, while Declan and I get the bikes out of the boot, along with Leah and Lucas's bags, and some kitchen containers that Steven had taken over to Amy's on Christmas Day.
"They're not gonna wait and hold the door for us, are they," Declan says.
He's right: before we get there, they've been let in, and the door has shut behind them.
"You got a spare finger to buzz with? Save me getting out my keys."
Declan puts down Lucas's bike, buzzes the door, and picks it up again.
"Hiya," says Steven over the intercom, and I shoulder the door open.
When we get upstairs, Steven is waiting with the flat door open, and helps us in with everything.
Padraig and the kids are already chattering away like they've never been apart; Declan joins them.
I put the kids' bags in their bedroom, while Steven leaves the bikes beside the door where, with any luck, we won't fall over them. Then I join him in the kitchen.
"How'd you get on with Dec?" he asks quietly.
"Good. He didn't talk about... you know."
"Good."
"How'd you get on with Padraig?"
"Fine, yeah. We got the shopping, and then we had a hot chocolate out."
"Where?"
"Not our one. The one near the Co-op. And it was nice. He told me all about when they met Mitzeee in Dublin, and, I mean, that was about seven weeks ago, weren't it, cos it was just after the scan before last, but he talks about it like it was yesterday, bless him. And don't tell him I told you, but I think he's got a girlfriend."
"Has he?"
"I mean it, don't say nothing."
"I won't."
"And then when we got back here, we cleared up. I've put the lads' duvets and pillows on our bed, by the way, so the front room won't look a mess during the day at least."
"Okay."
"I'm glad they're all here. But can I have a kiss, though, cos I feel like I've been on the go all morning."
"Okay."
I kiss him. His lips taste of chocolate, sweet and warm.
