Chapter 2-2
933 Words
We arrived at the Mucky Duck at about 8 pm, an hour or so later than we had originally planned. After getting our drinks from the bar, we were in the process of looking for an empty table when Paul and Helen spied us.
“Simon, Mark.” Paul stood. “Do you want to join us? It’s a bit crowded, and you’d probably have to wait a while for a table.”
“Thanks,” Mark said. “It is a bit busy.”
“Yeah, it seems like half the town has decided to spend the evening out,” Helen put in.
“So, how are you both?” I asked Helen. We hadn’t seen either of them in over a week.
“Good.” Helen smiled. “Though we’re glad we were able to get a babysitter for a couple of hours so we could get out.”
I smiled. “And how’s Charlotte?
“She’s great,” Paul said. “Filling nappies at an alarming rate. A bit of financial advice for you. Buy shares in Pampers.”
We all laughed.
“Last time we saw Sam he didn’t seem all that thrilled about having a younger sister,” I said. “Has he changed his mind?”
Both Paul and Helen’s faces dropped.
“No. He still doesn’t want anything to do with her,” Helen said.
“I hoped he would have come around by now. But…” Paul took a drink of his lager.
“Sam said he was worried about getting a good night’s sleep,” Mark put in.
Paul set his glass back on the table. “Charlotte certainly does her fair share of crying.”
“No more than most babies surely?” I questioned.
“No, the health visitor said there was nothing to worry about there,” Helen said. “We just can’t seem to get Sam involved with his sister at all. The health visitor suggested Sam should spend a few days with a friend or relative, but that’s not practical what with school and everything.”
“We’d love to have him come stay at our place, but we’ve only the one bedroom.” I took a pull on my pint of bitter, feeling sympathy for the Bates’ plight.
Although I’d never told Paul and Helen that Mark and I were boyfriends, they knew I was gay, and that I only had the one bedroom. So it didn’t take a genius to work out we were sleeping together. However, as they accepted me as being gay, I knew they wouldn’t have a problem with Mark and me. Also, as they allowed Sam to stay with us when Charlotte was born, it didn’t seem they had a problem with him spending time with us. They must have known Sam often visited our house.
“When old Maurice Johnson owned the house, I had plans drawn up for him to have the loft converted into another bedroom, but he never could commit himself to me doing the work for him.” Paul was a builder. He had overseen the building of the sound and video extension to the library. “If you two are interested in having me convert the loft I’d give you a competitive estimate. Especially if you have it done soon. Winter is always a slow time in the construction business. And with you two being so local and everything.”
“Forgive my husband, he’s always trying to drum up new business,” Helen added. We all laughed.
“I’d love to see the plans, but at the moment money is a bit tight,” I said.
“I’ll bring the plans over in the next couple of days. No pressure.”
“Thanks,” Mark put in.
A second bedroom would be useful, especially if my parents or Gran wanted to stay over.
We spent an enjoyable evening at the pub, chatting and eating, and later the four of us walked back to our street together.
“I better go see if the babysitter has managed to keep the peace between the children,” Helen said.
“It can’t be that bad, surely,” Mark said with concern.
“So long as Sam is left alone and doesn’t have to have anything to do with Charlotte, he behaves.” Paul sighed.
“If it’ll help, we could have another word with him,” I said.
“It couldn’t do any harm.” Helen picked at the cuff of her coat. The relaxed person we’d dined with that evening was being replaced by a worried and anxious mother.
“He always seems like a good kid,” Mark said.
“He is, I don’t know why he hasn’t bonded with his sister,” Helen said.
Back inside the house, I took Mark in my arms and gave him a kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that all evening.”
“Me, too.” Mark returned the kiss, with interest. “Wish there was a gay pub near here.”
“We might get a chance to visit one next weekend when we see my Gran.”
“We couldn’t go out without her while we’re there.”
“She’d come with us.”
“Huh?” Mark didn’t understand.
“I’ll ask her when we get there, but I bet she’d be up for it.”
“Really?”
I smiled. “Gran’s a pretty liberated woman.”
Mark shook his head. “Sounds like we’re in for an interesting weekend.”
I laughed. Remembering one of the subjects that had been discussed back at the pub, I said, “There’s no point Paul bringing round an estimate to convert the loft. I can’t afford it.”
“Maybe when I start earning.” Mark’s continued unemployment bothered him.
I massaged Mark’s shoulders. “Something will turn up. Try not to get too stressed about it.”
“I know, I just don’t like being idle.”
“It’ll be okay.” I yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed.”
Mark smiled. “Me, too. But you won’t be going to sleep quite yet.”
* * * *
It was an interesting week at the library. Yes, we do get them. However, the interest was professional rather than bibliographical. Terry Holt, the senior librarian, announced he was taking early retirement. It seemed he and his wife had found the perfect retirement cottage in Scarborough, a tourist seaside town on the east coast.
It didn’t take me long to convince myself I should put in for the post. I was pretty confident I’d get an interview. There were a couple of people, including Mary, if she put in for it, who might apply from the branch. I thought I stood a good chance against any local competition. Mary didn’t have a degree, and Sally Timpson in Fiction had only just got the junior’s position. So I got an application form and spent my lunch break filling it in.
- Writer
