Dolphin-san: Hey there y'all! Just a little note to say that I know that I haven't put Kai in this a lot, but that's just the way that I planned it. This is a Ray central fic, so it's mainly going to have him as the focus. Besides, Kai is a reporter and he has other things to do. But never fear! He has to come back because Ray agreed to be in the programme that he was filming.

Chapter 16

Saturday was always the busiest day in the shop. By five o'clock Max was looking forward to getting home and putting his aching feet up. Or he would have been, if only he knew his mother wasn't going to be there, ready to launch into round three of her tirade against Hiro.

'Hell,' Bruce said suddenly, 'I haven't done the present yet.'

'What present?'

'Mother's. It's her birthday, that's why we're all trooping round there tonight.'

By the way he rolled his eyes, Max guessed that he wasn't enthralled by the prospect of a duty visit with Florence.

'What are you getting her?'

'God knows.' Faster than a lizards tongue, Bruce's gaze flicked over the stock on display. 'Something around the hundred-pound mark. That fruit bowl, maybe. No, she had one of those for Christmas. Ah, candlesticks, that'll do. Those two over there.' As he nodded towards a pair of enamelled silver candlesticks, he picked up the phone and punched in a number. 'Gift wrap them for me, would you, Max? There's a good boy. A nd pick out a card.' With his free hand he gestured towards the carousel.

'I don't know what kind of card your mother would like.' Max was indignant, hurt on Florence's behalf.

'She's sixty-two years old.' Bruce hunched his shoulders impatiently. 'What more d'you need to know? Just grab something with flowers on.'

As he listened to Bruce arranging a game of golf for tomorrow morning, Max wondered if he expected him to sign the card as well, maybe pp it on his behalf. He had never met Bruce's mother but they had chatted briefly on the phone several times when Florence had rung the shop to speak to Bruce.

She'd sounded brilliant, Max thought rebelliously. Far nicer than her mean old son.

'Use the gold paper,' Bruce called over his shoulder.

'You mean the three-pounds-a-sheet stuff?' Behind his back Max pulled a scandalised face. What the hell.' Bruce flapped a pudgy, indulgent hand in the air. 'It's her birthday. She likes a bit of gold.'

'I'm sorry, we're about to close,' Bruce informed the customer pushing the door open at five thirty.

'I know that, I'm Max's mother.' More than a match for Bruce, Judy Mizuhara swept past him. 'Hiro still isn't at home,' she informed Max, who was lugging a box of china Dalmatians out of the stockroom. 'That's four times I've been round there today and no one's in. Out with his floozy, I'll be bound. Scared to face me. Should you be lifting that?' She fixed her son with a disapproving eye.

Too late, Max realised that there were one or two facts he should have warned his mother not to mention in front of Bruce.

'Mum, I don't care if Hiro's out with his floozy.' It was a lie, but Bruce's attention had to be diverted somehow. 'I don't care if he has a whole harem of floozies. Mum went to see him last night,' he told Bruce, pink-cheeked, 'and he was out with a boy.'

'So that's why he walked out on you. He's found someone else.' Bruce nodded; he had suspected as much all along. Then he frowned. 'But –'

'Okay if I leave these until Monday,' Max blurted out, 'now that mum's here? And you've got Florence's birthday do to get to . . . oh, mustn't forget the present . . .' She thrust the gift-wrapped box, trailing spirals of gold ribbon, into Bruce's unsuspecting arms. He stared down at it, the with bewilderment back at Max.

'Why shouldn't you be lifting anything heavy?'

'Bad back. Nothing to worry about,' Max assured him. 'Just a touch of psoriasis.'

'Psoriasis?'

'Not psoriasis. Sciatica.' Was that right? He felt himself break into a light sweat. 'Or lumbago.' That was definitely a back-achey thing. 'Maybe lumbago,' he announced, 'the doctor wasn't sure.'

'You didn't tell me you had lumbago.' Judy Mizuhara's tone was accusing.

'It's not serious, just the occasional twinge. Come on, mum, let's go.'

'All right, all right, but you watch yourself,' his mother warned. 'You shouldn't be lugging heavy boxes around anyway.' For good measure she wagged a finger at Max. 'It's not good for the baby.'

'Stay,' Florence begged when the doorbell rang. 'Just for a bit.' She gulped down her tumbler of whisky. 'I can't face them sober. Lord, this is worse than a visit from the Social Services.'

Ray got up to answer the door.

'I'll stay on one condition. If Jason kicks me, I'm allowed to lock him in the microwave.'

'Happy birthday, mother.' Dutifully Bruce pecked Florence's powdered cheek.

'Many happy returns,' Verity echoed, nudging Jason forwards. 'Go on, darling, give Granny a kiss.'

'You smell of whisky,' Jason told Florence.

'Thank heavens for that, I'd hate to think I'd been drinking cold tea. And speaking of drinks.' She turned towards Ray, who was gazing longingly in the direction of the microwave. 'Could you be an angel and do the honours?'

The birthday present was unwrapped and duly admired. Elegant though the candlesticks were, they weren't to Florence's taste.

'Beautiful, Bruce. Really beautiful. Wherever did you find them?'

This was purely for Florence's own amusement; did he seriously think she didn't know?

'Spotted them in a little shop down Covent Garden.' Bruce looked pleased with himself.

'You should track down their supplier. This kind of thing would sell well in your shop. How's business by the way?'

'Oh, pretty good. Pretty good.'

'And Max?'

Bruce's expression changed. He shook his head.

'Ah well, bad news there. He's pregnant.'

'Oh dear. Max's husband left him a few weeks ago,' Florence briefly explained to Ray. 'My word, what a muddle. Poor Max.'

'Never mind poor Max,' spluttered Bruce. 'Poor me, more like.'

Florence kept a straight face.

'Oh Bruce, what have you been up to? Don't tell me the baby's yours.'

Now it was Verity's turn to splutter.

'Florence, of course it isn't his!'

'Joke,' said Florence.

'It's not a joking matter,' Verity declared vehemently. 'How can Max do this to Bruce? He'll be wanting paternity pay for heaven's sake! Months and months off work, money for doing absolutely nothing –'

'He won't be getting it of course,' Bruce interrupted. 'I'll have to sack him. But it's not going to be pleasant . . . and as for the inconvenience it's going to –'

'Oof!' gasped Ray as Jason kicked him.

'Darling,' Verity cooed, 'how many times have I asked you not to do that? People don't like to be kicked.'

'You can't sack Max just because he's pregnant,' Florence protested. 'That's awful. Anyway, aren't there laws against that sort of thing?'

'I can see up your shorts,' Jason told Ray.

Ray beckoned Jason towards him.

'And I can see right through your head.' Peering through one ear, he said, 'In here and out through the other side.'

'You can't.' Jason was outraged.

'Oh I definitely can. Hang on, give me that drinking straw. If I slide it in, it'll go all the way through –'

'Ray's teasing you.' Verity's tone was stiff with disapproval. 'Come over here, darling, and sit by me.'

'I won't be sacking him because he's pregnant,' Bruce was explaining with exaggerated patience. 'I'll come up with something else.'

Florence thought how much she disliked his habit of treating her like a seven-year-old.

'But I thought Max was a model employee.'

'He was. But now he's pregnant, he'll have to go.' He shrugged. 'Money's money. We're a small business, not a charity.'

Bruce had it all planned. Since he may as well gat maximum use out of him, he would allow Max to work right up to the birth, but keep a diary recording anything that could count as a black mark against him. When the baby arrived, the chances were that Max'd change his mind about coming back to work anyway, Bruce privately thought. But if Max didn't – well, he'd have enough ammunition by then to prove to any tribunal that he was within his rights to sack him.

Jason was practicing violent karate chops on the edge of the coffee table. Glancing across at Ray, Florence caught the reproachful look in his eye. You lied, the look told Florence, you promised I could put him in the microwave.

'Darling, aren't you in a hurry to leave?'

The moment she said it, Ray perked up. As he bent to give Florence a hug, he whispered, 'Cheer up, soon be over.'

Verity pointedly looked away as Ray's black shorts rode up his smooth brown thighs.

'I can see your pants,' Jason crowed.

'Have a good time.' Fondly, Florence patted Ray's arm. 'Ray's found himself a nice young man,' she explained to Verity and Bruce when the door had closed behind him.

Verity, who disapproved mightily of Ray's indecently short shorts and iridescent highlights, said coolly, 'Has he indeed? And what colour is his hair . . . mauve?'

Max hated it when his mother was right and he was wrong, but this time there was no getting away from it.

No matter how hard he tried to juggle the figures, they simply wouldn't balance.

'You see, that's you all over,' Judy Mizuhara declared, 'living in cloud-cuckoo land. If this is how much you bring in,' she tapped the sheet of paper with her biro, 'and this is how much you have to shell out,' – another triumphant tap – 'well, let's face it, you're sunk.'

Max rubbed his aching temples. He didn't know which was worse, struggling to add up or having to listen to his mother's incessant outpourings.

'Set about getting that husband of yours back, that's what you have to do.' Judy nodded briefly.

Oh God.

'Mother, I know Hiro. He's not going to change his mind. I'm on my own now.'

'Ah, but you're not on your own, are you? You've got a baby on the way. You can't live on fresh air , my boy. Not that you could call London air fresh.' This last remark was accompanied by a snort of contempt.

'I'll give up the flat. Find somewhere cheaper,' Max said wearily.

'Oh yes, that'll do the baby the power of good, growing up in some filthy tenement with muggers and drug addicts lurking on every corner. No no no,' Judy Mizuhara went on, her expression firm. 'Have another talk with Hiro. I'm sure he'll help out. After all, that's what husbands are for.'

Dolphin-san: Well there you go. Max has reappeared, and his mother's as bossy as any other parent. I just love Florence, she's close to being my favourite character. Anyway, reviews please. They keep me sane during my school week.

Paternity Pay like maternity pay but for male mothers (carriers) like Max.