We're running late for this parents' evening. Not late late, according to Steven: just, we intended being there when it started at half three, and it's almost an hour after that now.
He's on the phone to Amy.
"No," he's saying, "Nothing's happened, it's just traffic and that, all the way to Manchester. Anyway, listen, Ames, we're there now, right, but there's literally nowhere to park – we've drove round the block twice, I'm not even joking. D'you know anywhere nearby that's not all residents-only?"
"Hold up," I say to him, "Someone's going."
"It's okay, Ames, we've found a spot. … Yeah, just up the road. … Did he? Aww, that's nice. Right, I better go. Bye, then." He hangs up, then he says to me, "She said our Lucas has stayed at school so he can see us – she's gonna pick him up when she fetches Leah tonight."
"After Leah's done her meeting and greeting job?"
We smile at each other. "Yeah," he says.
We get out of the car.
It's almost dark – maybe marginally less so than it would have been at the same time last week.
"All set?"
We head for the school.
"Amy gave them our names last night when her and Simon was here," Steven says, "So they should let us in alright."
"Door policy, is it? If you ain't on the list..."
He laughs.
There's a gate before we even get to the door, with a couple of teachers stood there, stopping people just wandering in.
"Bouncers..." I say to Steven under my breath.
"Hello," says one of the teachers. "Could I just take your name, and your child's name, please?"
She's talking to Steven, as he's stepped up ahead of me.
"Yeah. Hiya. I'm Ste Hay. Brady Hay, I mean – Ste Brady Hay. Or she might've put it down as Ste Hay – Amy, I mean. She's me kids' mum, and she said she put us down yesterday, so we should be on your list. Ste Brady Hay, or just Hay, and this is Brendan Brady. And it's Leah Barnes and Lucas Hay."
"That's fine, I've got you down here. So, you can see where to go – go inside, and sign in, and someone will let you know where to go from there."
"Thank you," Steven says, and we go past the gatekeepers, and head for the brightly-lit foyer.
We see Leah as soon as we step inside. She's standing talking with another kid and the kid's mother, looks like. Leah has got a badge on, saying HELPER.
Steven gets chatting with the mother, naturally.
"I'll go and sign us in," I say, and I leave them and go across to the wee desk.
I recognise the teacher who's sitting there.
"Hi," she says. "Can I have your name, please?"
"Brendan Brady. And Steven Brady Hay – that's him over there." I can tell she remembers me, but I remind her anyways: "Sports day. I won a race with my boy Lucas. You stuck a sticker on me, just here." I tap my chest where she stuck it.
She finds us on a list. "So if you could just sign here? Brilliant. I will need your... the other... I just need a signature from – "
"My husband?" I keep staring at her as I call out, "Steven."
He appears beside me. "Alright?"
"Lady wants your autograph."
"Just here," she tells him, and he signs, then she calls Leah over. "D'you want to take your..."
"Dads," I say.
"... off to the hall to see your teachers?"
"Okay," Leah says. "It's this way."
We follow Leah along a corridor.
"What did you say to that lady?" Steven asks me, in a whisper.
"Nothing."
"She went bright red for no reason, then, did she?"
"Here we are," says Leah.
There are tables spaced out in the hall – low ones, the kind small children would sit at to eat their school dinners – with a teacher seated behind each one, and a parent or two sitting opposite them.
"Which ones are yours and Lucas's teachers?" Steven asks Leah.
"That's mine, and that's Lucas's. You've got to wait until they're free. You can look at the exhibition while you're waiting."
"Exhibition?" says Steven, and we turn and look at the wall where a whole lot of paintings and pieces of school work have been put on display. "I can see yours, there, Leah. That's really good, innit, eh?"
It's butterflies, like she's always liked to draw. This picture is not like the ones Steven used to Blu-Tack to the walls in that old flat when I first moved in with him and his kids; it's in her new style, where she blurs the paint on the edges of the wings so they look like she's caught them moving, and gives them shadows on the ground below.
"That's Lucas's poem," Leah says, then, "I've got to go."
"Alright, see you in a bit," says Steven.
We move along to read Lucas's contribution.
Winter and Spring
Winter is alright,
The Christmas trees light,
The snow is so white.
Next is the Spring,
The flowers go ping!
Out of the seeds they are in.
I laugh. "That's class. Reckon there'll be a sequel? Six months' time, we'll get 'Summer and Autumn'?"
"Aw, I'm well proud, seeing that." He glances round at the teachers. "Are them parents going? Yeah, they are, look – we can nip over to our Leah's teacher before someone else does."
"What's her name?" I ask as we head across the hall.
"Mrs Pritchard. She's Welsh, according to Leah. She might know Hugo, eh?"
"All Welsh people don't know each other, Steven. Might as well say she'd know Tom Jones."
He laughs, then composes himself in the presence of the teacher.
"Hello," she says, and stands and offers her hand to Steven then to me. "You're Leah's parents, aren't you? Her mum told me last night that you'd be coming this evening – and I remember you from the school sports day last July. I didn't introduce myself then, because I wasn't teaching Leah last year. Have a seat."
"Ta," says Steven. "I mean, thank you."
:::::::
"Could talk the hind leg off a donkey, your Mrs Pritchard," I say to Steven.
We've had our turn with her, and we're standing waiting for Lucas's teacher to become free now.
"Shush. How come she's my Mrs Pritchard? Anyway, at least she was saying all nice things about our Leah, weren't she."
"That's true."
"Plus she didn't look at us funny."
"Yeah, I'll give her that – she's about the only one who hasn't."
:::::::
We get a good report about Lucas, as well. I can't say I'm up to speed with the jargon – SATS, Key Stages – but Miss Broadhurst obviously reckons he's doing okay.
"We seem to have got past that wobble he had last term," she says, "When – it was you, I think, who went into hospital?"
"It was me, yeah," Steven says. "Why, was he upset at school?"
"He was. Well, subdued more than upset – and he's usually a sunny little boy, so we could see straight away how hard it had hit him, seeing this quite traumatic thing happening at home."
"Right in front of him," I say.
She nods. "He described it quite vividly. But his mum kept me in the loop day by day, so if Lucas started spiralling off with his worries about what might happen in the future, I was able to chat with him about what was actually happening at the time, so it was more manageable for him."
"Thank you," says Steven. "Leah's teacher didn't say anything about if she had problems at school as well – should we go back and ask?"
"Well, different children process things in different ways," says Miss Broadhurst. "Leah is that much older, and she's very good at expressing herself and asking questions, whereas Lucas goes on feelings more."
I say to Steven, "We know how the kids are – how they were when you..." And then I say to the teacher, "We know them. We're in the loop."
"Oh, sure, sure – I wasn't suggesting – "
"It's fine," Steven says. "Brendan wasn't having a go." Then he looks at me, Go on.
"It's fine," I say. "I wasn't having a go. Miss."
"They're a good little partnership, aren't they?" Miss Broadhurst says, moving along. "There were one or two days when Lucas didn't want to go outside and play at break time, so we let him and Leah stay inside and have some quiet time, which was enough to perk him up for the rest of the day."
"Yeah, they're each other's little mate," says Steven. "We're dead lucky that they're so close, like."
"It's nice to see," the teacher says. "And Lucas has been telling me all about what he did in the Christmas holidays, seeing his big brothers – stepbrothers, I think they are? – and what sounds like a big family party. He's started this term full of beans."
:::::::
When we're done there, we go back to the foyer and find Leah.
"Hiya," Steven says. "Your teacher's well pleased with you. I reckon you're one of her favourites."
Leah laughs. "She doesn't have favourites."
"She might say she doesn't," I say, "But on the downlow, she does, and you're it."
"Brendan's joking," says Steven. "But we're dead proud of you, aren't we."
"Ain't joking," I whisper to Leah. "Seriously though, very proud."
Steven smiles at me. Then he asks Leah, "Do you know where Lucas is? We better go and see him before we go."
"I'll show you."
She takes us along to one of the classrooms, and we look through the glass in the door. There are four or five kids in there, and an adult minding them.
Lucas sees us, waves, jumps up, says something we can't hear. Leah opens the door and goes in, and we follow her.
We saw him three days ago, but Lucas rushes to us as if he's not seen us for weeks.
"We're doing pictures," he says, and drags Steven by the hand across to where he'd been sitting, to take a look.
"Who's that? Spider-Man? That's brilliant," Steven says, then he says to the woman in charge, "Sorry, barging in. I'm Leah and Lucas's dad, and this is their other dad."
"Brendan, I saved you a biscuit," Lucas says.
"Better be a chocolate one, is it?"
"Chocolate chip."
"I'll take that."
He pulls a crisp packet from his pocket, and takes the promised biscuit out of it.
"You can have it now," he says.
I eat it whole.
"Deadly," I say.
"Deadly?" says one of the scoolkids, shocked.
"Don't worry," Lucas tells him, "It means really, really nice."
"Is your dad American, Lucas?" another kid asks.
"No. He's just Irish," Lucas says, then he asks me, "Are you going to work?"
"Yeah, when we're done here."
"I knew it – you're wearing a suit, so you must be going to work or a party, and it's Wednesday, and parties aren't on Wednesdays."
"Excellent deduction."
"Are we going home now, Dad?" he asks Steven.
"I don't know," Steven says; he looks at the time on his phone. "Are you allowed to go home yet, Leah, or have you got to stay and help till the end?"
"I think I'm allowed to go. I went before the end yesterday, after Mum and Simon finished talking to the teachers, so..."
Steven says to me, "We'd have time to drop them back to Amy's, yeah?"
"We'll make time."
"I better just give Amy a ring, though, in case she's already on her way. Alright, get your stuff, then Lucas – we'll just be in the whatsit."
"Foyer," says Leah.
"Yeah." Then Steven thanks the teacher, or whatever she is, and we leave the classroom.
We stand in the corridor while Steven calls Amy, but it goes to voicemail so he leaves her a message, and as he's doing that, the woman from the classroom comes out and hurries past us to the desk in the foyer where we signed in. It's not the same teacher there as it was when we signed in: this one looks sterner.
"Reckon Amy's on her way?" I say to Steven.
"Yeah, she's most likely driving, so she couldn't answer her phone. We'd better wait, till either she rings me back, or she gets here."
"Okay."
In the foyer, Lucas catches up with us, with his coat on.
The woman from the classroom sees him with us: we're evidently the subject of the conversation she's having at the desk.
She gives us a smile as she passes us on her way back to the kids she's meant to be minding, but doesn't meet our eyes. I don't like this.
Anyways.
Leah is back with us now, having fetched her coat.
"I've left a message for your mum," Steven tells them, "So we're waiting here until she phones back, in case she's already on her way, cos we don't want to pass her in the car, do we."
We're being approached: two teachers – the officious-looking one from the desk, and a young fella.
"Hi," the stern one says. "Could we just have a quick word?"
"What about?" I say.
"You two just wait there," she says to our children, "While we just have a little chat with your dads."
She asks us to follow her and her silent bodyguard. We do as we're told, or more like, Steven does, and I go with him.
"What is it?" Steven asks.
"I'm sorry," she says, "But are you wanting to take Leah and Lucas with you when you leave?"
"Yes, if their mum's not on her way – I've just left a message on her phone, just now. Why?"
"It's just that, I'm sorry, but you're not on our list."
"What list?" says Steven.
"The list of who can take a child out of school premises. For every child, not just yours." She produces this list. "And for Leah and Lucas, it's just their mother Amy Barnes, and her partner, Simon Smith, and the children's grandfather, Michael Barnes. So, I'm afraid we can't let them leave with you. It's inconvenient, I know, but – "
"This is literally their mum on the phone now – she'll tell you." Steven answers the call. "Amy, they're … Right, see you in a minute."
"On her way?" I ask him.
"Just parked. She'll be here in a minute."
"Well," says the teacher, "That's solved that. Sorry we had to mention anything."
She and her sidekick retreat and stand between the desk and the door: if they're thinking they can get in our way when we go to leave with our kids, they're thinking wrong.
I'm about to say this to Steven, but when I turn to him, his jaw is clenched. He's burning inside.
I put my hand on his shoulder.
"Steven. Look at me. We'll sort this, okay? But we've got the kids to look after now."
"Is everyone staring at us now?" His eyes are on mine. He's getting control of his breathing.
I glance around: there's barely anyone here in any case. Leah and Lucas are talking together. A couple of parents are passing through on their way out. The two teachers are deliberately not looking at us, presumably relieved that we didn't kick off, and wanting to keep it that way.
"No one is. Come and tell the kids their mum's coming now, yeah?"
He nods, breathes. We walk over to Leah and Lucas.
"Alright?" he says. "Mummy's on her way, she's nearly here now, but we'll wait in here for her, right, cos it's cold outside."
:::::::
Amy has come into the foyer, and we've gone to meet her.
Once the kids have said hello, Steven says, "Right, I'm gonna tell your mum what your teachers said about you, only I don't want you earwigging, or your heads will get so big, you won't be able to get your jumpers off. And Brendan wants to have another look at your poem and your painting, don't you, Brendan, eh?"
"Me? Yeah, course I do."
"So, you two take him back to the hall, yeah, and then – where a you parked, Ames?" Steven is speaking loudly, making it impossible for the pair of teachers not to overhear.
"Um, outside the gate," Amy says, "Turn left, walk up to where the parking starts, and I'm about the third car along."
"Alright?" Steven says to me, and we look each other in the eyes, and I nod.
"We'll catch you up," I say.
"That's alright, innit, Ames? Brendan can catch us up with the kids."
"Yes, that's fine," she says.
Steven looks at the teachers. Keeps looking until it's clear that, having heard Amy give permission, they're not looking to challenge us any more.
:::::::
"We'll see where your mum and dad have got to," I say to the kids as we pass the teachers – unimpeded – on our way out.
Right on cue, Lucas holds my hand.
We follow Amy's directions once we're off the premises.
I don't know what I'm anticipating – hopefully not blood on the pavement – but there are no raised voices as we approach, and in the yellowish light from a nearby streetlamp, Steven and Amy look to be talking normally.
The kids run ahead, and Steven gives them both a hug and a kiss. Then, while Leah and Lucas say goodnight to me, Steven and Amy hug each other for a good few seconds.
Not what I was expecting.
We wave them off as they drive away.
:::::::
We talk about the kids' report from their teachers, and what we reckon to Mrs Pritchard and Miss Broadhurst, and Leah and Lucas's contributions to the wee exhibition; and then, for a while, we drive along in silence.
A few minutes on, Steven says, "Thanks for not letting me kick off at them teachers, anyway."
"I would'a kicked off myself, if I hadn't been so busy stopping you..."
"It's lucky, then, eh?"
"Yeah. Wouldn't want to get ourselves barred altogether." I wait, but he doesn't say anything to that, so I ask, "What did Amy have to say? Seemed like you didn't kick off at her either."
"I did, a bit. I was gonna. But I just told her what that narky cow said, and then she explained."
"Okay."
Again, I wait. Risk a glance at him whenever there's light enough coming into the car for me to see his face. He's giving nothing away, or at least not enough for me to interpret in the half-second glimpses I get.
"Got any sweets in here?" he says.
"Should be."
He feels in the glovebox.
"Starburst," he says. "Want one?"
"Too right."
He unwraps one, puts it in my mouth, then has one himself.
A minute or two later, he says, "It's because I've not needed to pick them up from school since they started at this one – that's why she's not put me on the list."
"Okay."
"It's not just that, though."
"Is it because of me?"
"No. I asked her that, cos I thought it might be because I'm with you, but she said it's not – not now, anyway – not now that she knows you. She knows they're safe with you."
"She said that?"
"Yes."
"So what is it? What's the other reason?"
"She said the reason she hadn't put me down on the list, even though she could've, was because the school didn't know me."
"They know you now."
"And she said she will now, just in case we've ever got to pick them up. She said I might have to show me driving licence – well, I can't, can I, cos I've sent it back, but me passport, then – if it's someone that still hasn't met me. But I'll be allowed to pick the kids up in future, when I'm on the list."
"Good."
This isn't the whole of it, though, I can tell. I wait for the rest.
"She was scared of putting me name down, like, when no one at the school could actually recognise me."
"Scared of what?"
"In case Billy went there, and said he was me."
"Billy?"
"Leah's... You know."
"I know, yeah. I know who you mean. But – "
"I mean, she said they're dead careful at the school – well, we found that out tonight, didn't we – but she was worried about, like, if Billy turned up and tried it on, saying he was Ste Hay, cos he knows my name so he might think it's worth a try. And if my name was on the list, but all the teachers had never met me before, and they looked at the list and me name's there, so they think, fine, it must be him, and they don't ask for his ID. I mean, it sounded a bit paranoid when she said it, but I can see what she means."
"This Billy character, though – I thought Amy didn't see him for dust, soon as he found out about Leah. Washed his hands of the whole thing, didn't he?"
"He didn't want to know, you're right. I mean, he did know, but he didn't want nothing to do with Leah, and Amy didn't want him to either. And then he moved away with his mum and dad anyway."
"To get him away from Amy and Leah?"
"No, I think they was already going – but it suited us all fine, and I was Leah's dad by then, wasn't I, so we felt like, good riddance to him."
"So, what makes Amy think he'd show up now?"
"Because he came back, looking for Leah."
"He's come back?"
"Watch the road, Brendan. Bloody hell."
"Fuck. Sorry."
I get back on course.
"No, he's not come back again," Steven says. "But he came back a few years ago, and Amy says it's been on her mind ever since then."
"A few years back? Did he see Leah? Try and take her?"
"No. He didn't see Leah, and he didn't see Amy either. He saw me."
Jesus.
"Where was I? Inside?"
"No, it was before then. It was when me and Doug had the deli."
"Why didn't you tell me? You could'a told me – you know you could'a asked me, if you needed... Even when you were with Douglas, Steven, you know that."
"I know. You weren't there, though. It was when you'd gone away, to Dublin."
"Which time?"
"When I'd told you I wouldn't go to America if you asked me to stay. That's not the point, though. You went away, and that's when Billy came, after that. He came into the deli, asking for Amy – I think he was just asking around, like, I don't think he knew I had the kids living with me, or even knew that me and Amy had been a proper family."
"He knew you, though, didn't he?"
"Well, sort of, yeah. We sort of recognised each other. And he was saying all this stuff about how he'd just got married and settled down, and him and his wife wanted our Leah in their lives now. And I basically said no. And Doug wanted to stick up for me, so he said, yeah, the kids have got a home already, with me and him, but then that made Billy realise me and Doug was gay, so he started saying all this crap, like, homophobic. And then he left, but he said he weren't gonna give up."
"He did, though, didn't he? He must'a given up, if that's the last you've seen of him."
"Why do you think me and Doug decided to go to America the next week, instead of waiting till the New Year like we were going to? And why do you think Amy actually agreed to let me take the kids thousands of miles away?"
"That was because of Billy?"
"Yes. He was a stranger, plus he was homophobic, plus I was the only dad Leah knew. We couldn't let him come into her life and be a... even a weekend dad. I couldn't, and neither could Amy."
"So why weren't you scared to come back, then, when you came back from Dublin with me?"
"That's why – because I was with you. I knew you would stop him if he came back again."
"I would."
"Anyway, what I think happened is, he came back when I'd gone, and someone told him I'd emigrated. So that was why he gave up."
"And you said no one's seen him since then. Not you, not Amy, is that right?"
"Yeah. Ain't stopped her being worried, but like, hopefully there's no reason." He pauses. "How would you stop him, Brendan? If he did try it again, I mean."
"Throw money at a good lawyer, obviously, to fight the case."
"What if Billy still won, though?"
"Then I'd stop him another way."
Steven says nothing. He unwraps another Starburst, though, and feeds it to me.
:::::::
We're almost home, when he says, "When you think about it, I s'pose it's good that the school is careful about who picks up the kids."
"Guess it is, yeah, or it will be once you're on the list and it's not you they're obstructing. Although..."
"What?"
"I reckon you could take on that pair of teachers, Steven – you could take them down, no contest."
He laughs. "You reckon?"
"If you're all riled up like that? Fuck yeah."
:::::::
When Amy brings the kids over at the weekend, she tells Steven she's added him to the list at the school like she'd promised.
Not just him: she's also added me. It's only in case there's ever an emergency, is how she puts it, so there's no chance I'll get carried away thinking Amy Barnes is softening towards me.
:::::::
Monday – our night off – and my phone rings when we'veve just sat down in front of the TV to pick a film to watch.
"Cheryl," I tell Steven.
"I better mute this, then."
I answer the call, "Alright, sis?"
"Hey, Bren. You're not at work, are you?"
"No, we're home tonight. How are you?"
"I'm good, thank you. Nate sends his love. I've just left him downstairs though for a wee minute, so I can have a chat with you."
"Okay."
"So, what are yous two up to tonight – not out on the town?"
"Nope. We've got a takeaway coming, gonna watch a film when we find one we can agree on..."
"Ah, that sounds nice. I won't keep you, then, if you've got food coming – I'll give you a call tomorrow, will I?"
"It's okay. This Indian place, it cooks everything to order, so we've got a while before it's here. Was there something you wanted to talk about?" I already know that there is because, whatever it is, I've picked it up from her voice.
"Well, there was something, you're right. I just wanted to give you the heads up. You know Mum said she and Colm were thinking of going on a wee holiday to England?"
"That's her fella is it, Colm?"
"Yes, aye. Well he's surprised her and booked it, for Valentine's week. I mean, he's not daft, so he's not sprung it on her last minute, because she'll want to go shopping first, get herself some new clothes for the trip, get her hair done, get – "
"So when?"
"I think she said they're going the Friday before V Day, so it's in three Fridays' time, and it's about a week they'll be there for. And I've not got all the details out of her yet, or out of Colm, but I know they're going to London for some of the time, so they'll be nowhere near you except maybe a day or two each end of the holiday, when they're in Liverpool for the ferry."
"What have you said to her? Have you told her I'll see her? Have you given her my number now?"
Steven has turned towards me on the sofa. He's stroking my arm, soothing.
"Course not," Cheryl says. "I said I would leave it to you to contact her, didn't I?"
"Yes."
"I told her I would let you know when she's going to be over there, but that's the top and bottom of it. I've not said anything else to her, except to not pin her hopes on hearing from you. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I know how hard it is for you, Bren, the situation. Just have a think, though, eh? It's an olive branch Mum's sending out to you."
"I'll... Yeah."
"Just keep me posted, if you decide either way."
"Yep."
"Well, I'll leave you to your film. Give Ste my love."
"Sends her love," I say to Steven.
He leans closer to my phone: "Hi, Cheryl. Love you."
"Ah, bless him. Speak to you soon, then, Brendan. And don't worry, okay? Love you. Bye for now."
"So long."
We end the call.
"That was about your stepmum?" Steven says, carefully.
I nod. "She's making that trip, courtesy of her boyfriend."
"She said she would, didn't she, in the letter. When is it?"
"Next month. Around Valentine's."
"But she's still not got your address or phone number or nothing, is that right?"
"That's right, yeah."
"So it's still up to you, not her. So you've not got to do anything, but you can if you want," he says, and I look at him, and he's right; and then he says, "I'll fetch them beers."
He kisses me on the cheek before he goes.
:::::::
Saturday night when I get home, the living room light is on, and Steven is getting up from the sofa when I go in.
"What you doing still up, this time in the morning?" I speak softly because the kids are asleep in the other room.
"I got up for a drink, then I saw what time it was and I knew you'd be home soon, so I thought I'd wait up for you."
"Well that's very considerate of you, Steven."
He's warm in his dressing gown. I hug him to me, and we stand like that for a minute.
"You had enough to eat at work? I know you said on the phone you would, but there's lasagne if you're still hungry."
"I'm good. Georgiou's birthday, he ordered in pizzas for everyone."
"In the kitchen, did you have it?"
"Yeah. The staff all went in on their breaks."
"That's nice."
"Pearl heated mine up for me – I get special treatment in the kitchen, whether you're there or not."
He smiles. "Want your whiskey before your shower, or after?"
"Might have it in bed, unless you're staying up even longer."
"I'll pour you one, and take it in the bedroom with me."
"Alright." I kiss him, and go for my shower.
:::::::
The glass of whiskey in on my bedside chest, with the lamp turned on low. Steven sits up when I come in, and moves my pillow against the headboard for me to lean back on.
I get in.
"So, being awake all night, it's because of the appointments coming up, is it?"
He's had the appointments sent to him in the post, for his next scan and seeing the consultant, and I know they'll be hanging over him for the ten or so days till they happen.
"I s'pose so," he says. "I mean, I'm not really worried, cos I've not had any symptoms or anything, but it's just, my mind starts going into everything. Like, what if this happens? What if that happens? I know there's no point thinking them things, but I can't help it."
"It's understandable. You gotta get some sleep, though, Steven."
"I will do, now that you're home."
"Good."
"Did you sign Georgiou's card?" The change of subject tells me he's not wanting to talk any more about the hospital.
"Mm? Yes. Put my name under yours, to save myself the trouble of thinking of a message."
He laughs quietly. "Crafty."
"Ain't I." I sip my drink. "My grandmother's birthday as well today. Well, yesterday, now, I guess it is. Signing that card tonight, I remembered for some reason."
"Which grandmother?"
"Florence."
"Right." He pauses. "Do you think about her, then, Brendan?"
"No, not really. It's weird, I don't think I even knew when her birthday was when she was alive – never gave it a thought – but the one after she died, Seamus was around. He brought it up, got maudlin about it." I remember him hugging me: his grief made an opportunity, his dead mother made complicit still.
"Didn't he want you and Chez to go and have a drink with him or something? I remember you telling me when he'd said it. So that must be four years ago now."
"You've got a good memory."
"I remember everything from then – every day we were together. I used to go over them all in my head when you'd gone."
"Me too." I reach my arm around his shoulders; he holds my wrist to keep it there.
I finish my drink and turn out the light, and then we get ourselves comfortable, settling under the cover, his back against my chest, my knees in the crook of his knees, my arm round the front of him, his fingers woven with mine.
"I love you." He brings my hand to his lips, then returns it to where it was, pressed to his steady heart.
"I love you too."
This is night one hundred.
:::::::
Maria has got some family thing going on, so she's off work on Monday and I'm in instead: which is only fair, I guess, after the times she's had to do the same for me.
Early on, I get a call on my mobile from Anne.
"Oh," she says, "I was hoping you were at home, but it sounds like you're at work, are you?"
"Yeah, doing an extra night this week. It's quiet, though – I can talk. What's up?"
"I was hoping I could pop round to yours and see you. We're in the area – staying at the Dog tonight, would you believe, courtesy of Nancy – but we've got to go home first thing tomorrow, because Richard's got to be back in the office."
"Steven's home – he'd be pleased to see you."
"And I'd be pleased to see him, of course, but I wanted to see both of you."
"Something wrong, is there?"
"No, not at all. Hang on a second." She has a conversation with someone else, which I can't catch over the music here in the club; and then she comes back. "You still there?"
"Yep."
"Will you have a minute to chat, if we come to the club?"
"Course, yeah, be my guest."
"Okay, we'll be there in... let's say an hour. I'd better put some makeup on, and I've just asked Nancy if I can borrow a frock. So we'll see you soon, just for a flying visit."
:::::::
Kingsley phones me to let me know Anne has arrived.
She hasn't made it very far into the club when I go to meet her, because of getting stopped for selfies, so I speak with Richard first.
"Would it be really rude if I sat and caught up on some work stuff?" he says. "I think Anne wants to talk to you on your own, in any case."
"No problem." I go to the bar. "Sophie, will you take Richard upstairs, please, and find him a quiet table? And tell Alicia he's my guest, along with Mitzeee."
"Thanks, Brendan," says Richard, and Sophie comes out from behind the bar to show him upstairs.
I rescue Anne from the circle of people around her.
"Your fella's gone upstairs. Want to come to my office?"
We make our way across the floor, and I let us in.
"This reminds me of old times," she says. "Do you remember the night we met?"
"If you're flirting with me, Anne, I've got to break it to you..."
She laughs. "Do you remember, though? The opening night of Chez Chez. I quite fancied getting to know the new boss in town, so into your office we went."
"How could I forget?"
"We drank champagne... Then you showed me your wedding ring and said you were hoping to patch things up with your wife."
"Let you down gently, didn't I..."
"I was quite hurt that you assumed I was that sort of girl in the first place."
"Ha. You got over it. You went on the computer, if I recall, and showed me your modelling pictures."
"Nobody believed that was all we'd done." She smiles. "Right, I'm sure you've got better things to do than stroll down memory lane with me."
"It's quiet tonight, as you saw. Can I get you a drink? There's whiskey in here, or I can get someone to bring whatever you want."
"Whiskey would be fine."
"Okay." I open the desk drawer, get out the bottle and two glasses. "So, you're not here to tell me you're pregnant."
"No. Cheers."
"Sláinte."
I sit on my chair; there are other chairs, but Anne sits on the desk.
We drink, and I wait for her to tell me what she's come to say.
She starts.
"We've been up to Yorkshire for the weekend, to see Richard's family, but also to look at wedding venues. And that's your fault – you and Ste – because of your ridiculously romantic anniversary weekend in that ridiculously romantic hotel, which made Richard suggest that we set a date. So we went to see some venues around where his parents live, and one of the places we saw is actually in the village he grew up in. It's an old coach house – beautiful – and it's booked up for the foreseeable future." She pauses; she's enjoying telling this story. "Only, they've had a cancellation, literally today, while we were there. It's not for an unlucky reason – the bride has found out she's pregnant, and she doesn't want to look like a balloon in her wedding dress, or give birth half way up the aisle, so they've postponed for a year. And there's a long waiting list, but because they've known Richard since he was a little boy, they're holding the date for us until we decide. We've just got to say yes or no."
"So what's stopping you? Having doubts?"
"I've got no doubts whatsoever. But I wanted to check the date with you, because if you can't make it, we'll think again."
"Really?"
"Really." She's looking emotional, but she covers it: "Not used to neat whiskey – making my eyes water."
"What's the date?"
"It's not till the sixth of September, so it's months and months. It's not a weekend, though, it's a Wednesday, so you and Ste would both have to take time off work. Oh, the other thing is, there are lots of hotel rooms that will have to be cancelled by the other wedding as well, so we could take those, or some of them, if we were taking the date."
"We'll make it work. Course we will, for your wedding. Tell them yes, as long as you're sure."
She smiles. There's no blaming the liquor for the tears in her eyes now.
"There's one more thing. You know my dad walked out when Maxine and I were little?"
"I gathered that, yeah."
"I don't know if he's even alive. I mean, there's no reason he wouldn't be – my mum's only forty-five, and he was the same age as her – but dead or alive, he's very much out of the equation. So, what I wanted to ask you was, would you walk me into my wedding?" She rushes on, like Steven does if he's unsure of himself and doesn't want to give anyone the chance to give an answer he doesn't want to hear. "I don't mean give me away – I've never liked the sound of that. I mean, walk with me, across the road from the hotel, into the coach house, and stop me from dropping my flowers if I'm shaking, or from tripping over, or taking a wrong turning. Walk with me to my almost-husband. And you wouldn't have to do anything else – my sister and Nancy will have all the organising covered, all the girly stuff. So all you'd have to do is that. And a speech at the reception, if you felt like it."
"You wouldn't rather your mum walked with you?"
"I would rather you walked with me, Brendan Brady."
"I'd be honoured."
She doesn't say anything more. She just holds out her hand, and we shake on it.
:::::::
He's in bed when I get home. Asleep at first, till I get into bed, and then he wakes, and we kiss.
"How was it, working on a Monday?"
"Same old. Did you miss me?"
"Only a tiny little bit."
"Thanks."
He kisses me, with smiling lips in the dark.
"Mitz and Rich came round after the club, anyway, didn't they, so I had a bit of company. So, you're walking her down the aisle, eh?"
"I am, apparently."
"It sounds amazing. And the hotel she'll be staying in is a town house, she said, and we can stay in that one as well, cos there's enough rooms for all the main people."
"You and your hotels..."
"I'll ask Pearl tomorrow, if she can cover my shifts."
"I already asked her. She's happy to."
He kisses me again, strokes my hair while he does it.
We roll together so I'm on top of him. His bare limbs embrace me.
The lubricant is out of reach, and he doesn't let me away from him even for the second it would take to get it, so we play with each other instead, and with ourselves. Our hands go from one dick to the other – sometimes both hands on one, sometimes both dicks in one fist – randomly. Once or twice in our fumbling and haste, my knuckles knock hard against his, and my thoughts flash forward to the next day, when he or I will catch sight of our own hand, and know why it's bruised. And all the time, we kiss, open mouthed and hungry for each other.