19 December 2014
"John Paul. Hi it's me." Craig said on the phone after his ex-boyfriend answered. "I'm here at your mum's and she was telling me about your cancelled weekend plans. I didn't know you'd be planning to go to London this weekend. You should have told me!"
John Paul sighed and answerer reluctantly, "Oh, well. It was Spike's idea, but now that he's out of the picture, there's …"
"If you still wanna go to London, I can take care of Matthew," Craig offered. "I'm sure you were looking forward to it. I know things have changed with Spike, but you can take someone else with you, Nancy or one of your sisters." Or me, he thought to himself, before continuing, "And how about Michaela? When did you last see her?"
John Paul was taken aback by the offer. "Uhh, I can't remember. I guess she came home for Easter, but I wasn't really … never mind. I can't just ask them out of the blue. I mean, we were gonna take the train later today."
"John Paul, there's nothing wrong with asking. If they can't go, they can't, but perhaps one of them can and wants to. You're free as a bird this weekend if you want to. I'll stay here if you'd rather Matthew was at home in familiar surroundings, or I can take him to mum's, you decide. But I think you should go!" Craig said convincingly.
"Okay. I'll call Nancy." John Paul sighed. "Give me a few minutes. I'll call you back."
After hanging up, Craig went to attend to Matthew who'd been playing on the living room floor. Myra had suggested he gave him some bread and yoghurt when he'd start feeling hungry and according to her time frame, that should be about now.
Perfectly timed, he thought, as Matthew suddenly started crying. He picked him up, asking, "Are you hungry, Matthew? Want Daddy Craig to give you some food?"
"Fooo, fooo," Matthew agreed.
Craig took him to the kitchen and put him in his high chair. He then prepared the food and started feeding his son. Half-way through his phone rang. It was John Paul. Craig picked it up quickly and told him he was busy feeding Matthew and asked whether they could talk afterwards. He then returned his full attention to his son who ate with gusto. Most of the bread managed to enter his mouth, but a lot of the yoghurt splattered all over the kitchen table and the floor around the high chair.
Later the toddler had finished his lunch, Craig cleaned up the mess and changed his son's nappy, and they pair of them were sitting on the sofa, reading a book. Realising that Matthew was dosing off, Craig carried him upstairs and quietly put him to bed. He then got his phone and rang John Paul.
"Hi Craig, everything okay with Matthew?" John Paul asked as he picked up the phone.
"Yeah, he's fine. Just fell asleep after his lunch. He had some appetite. He finished the yoghurt so you better get some on the way home." Craig suggested.
"Okay. Good to know. I spoke with Nancy. She's joining me. We're taking the train at six this evening. Are you really sure it's okay with you?" John Paul asked, the uncertainty clear in his voice.
"Of course! That's great news. You deserve a little holiday. When are you coming back?" Craig asked in return.
"We were thinking Monday. Then we'd have two whole days in London. Would you mind?"
Craig could hear the embarrassed hope in John Paul's voice and couldn't but laugh. "No, of course not, John Paul. I'd love to spend the weekend with Matthew. You just enjoy your time in London, and come back in great spirits to celebrate Christmas. I'll see you later today, okay?"
"Okay," John Paul felt sheepish. "And Craig … thanks."
"No worries. It's my pleasure." Craig replied, an octave more generous than he really felt.
"Okay, I'll see you over at our place at 5. We'll take the cab from there, okay?" John Paul was talking on the phone as he entered the Cash'n'Carry. "Good, see you then, Nance. Bye."
He froze as he noticed the young woman at the till, realising that he hadn't seen her in the shop ever since her brother raped him almost a year ago. He felt the surroundings closing in, his breath getting shallow, and all his senses got hyper-sensitive.
He closed his eyes and tried to use the technique his therapist had trained with him. 'Go to your safe place.' His mind took him to the flat he'd shared with Craig, the only place he knew that felt completely safe from harm. 'Just continue breathing normally. Allow the panic to hit you. It'll pass. Just allow it to happen. Remember you're safe here.' He felt the physical effects of the anxiety attack race through him; faded hearing, increased pulse and cold sweat. It didn't last long, though, and he felt his body and mind start to relax. He kept his eyes shut for a moment, still focused on his safe place.
"You okay, Mr McQueen?" John Paul was brought to the here-and-now by Sinead's hesitant question. He opened his eyes and looked at her, with a sad smile on his face. "Can I get you something? A glass of water?" She offered.
"No, thank you. I'm fine." He tried to say politely. After all, it wasn't her fault what had happened, he thought to himself. "Cindy not in today?" He asked hopeful that the owner was nearby.
"No, she's dealing with the insurance company." Sinead replied.
"Why? Something happen?" Curiosity pushed the uncertainty aside.
"Well, we had a break-in last night."
"What?" John Paul looked around the shop. Everything seemed the same as usual. "Did they steal from the till?"
"No. That's the weird thing. They left fifty pounds in the till, but ate all the yoghurt! I mean, nothing else! Just fifty pots of yoghurt! And left the empty pots scattered all over the floor."