Date: Thu, 18 Mar 2004 11:38:00 -0000 From: Drew Hunt Subject: The House On The Hill 5 For the full disclaimer, see earlier chapters. Basically don't copy, don't read if you shouldn't and don't be under the misapprehension that it's real, cause it isn't. John and Lars have helped to make the below more readable, thanks fellas. Chapter 5 Carl surveyed the burnt remains of the spaghetti bolognaise he'd attempted to cook. He thought he'd try and vary his and Ben's diet a little. He had enjoyed the meal the previous night at Robbie's, and thought he might try and be a little more adventurous himself. Unfortunately Carl had the heat turned up too high under the saucepan; he'd gone into the other room to answer the phone, it was a company trying to sell him a new kitchen. They didn't seem to accept the fact that he was a joiner, and was more than capable of putting in his own kitchen, thank you very much. On his return to the kitchen, Carl was greeted by a most unpleasant odour. He turned off the heat and plunged the pan under the cold tap. He'd have to leave the devastation to go and pick Ben up from school. Normally Ben got the bus, but because he'd stopped later due to attending chess club, Ben needed to be collected. * * * * * "Did you enjoy yourself, son?" Carl asked as Ben climbed into the van. "Yeah, it was okay, I guess." Ben said unenthusiastically. "You don't sound that sure." "No, it was the last meeting of the club before the summer, and my last ever time there." Ben had a tenuous friendship with Morgan Smith, a fellow loner; they didn't have much else in common bar chess, but Morgan would be going to the Comprehensive school after the summer. As Morgan lived at the other end of town, and the two never really saw one another outside of school, Ben had realised that they wouldn't see each other that often. Although their friendship wasn't that well established, Morgan was someone that Ben could talk to now and again. Ben realised that he would miss the times they spent together. "I told Rob today that I didn't mind you spending some of the holiday up at his house." "Oh, that's good." Ben's mood immediately lifted. "Though I told him that you couldn't spend all the summer with him, cause I'm sure he'd have other things to do." "Yeah, whatever." Ben dismissed the last part of his dad's words; he'd try and engineer a way to allow him to spend most of his time up there. Carl pulled into the car park of an Indian take-away. "How come we're here?" Ben enquired. They'd already had their weekly take away. "Oh, I tried to cook something for our tea, but I made a mess of it." "Oh dad, you're hopeless in the kitchen." Ben said good-naturedly. "Yeah, I know. I'll have to hope that you'll soon learn how to cook, won't I?" Carl said smiling over at his son. "Yeah, before you poison us both." Ben smiled back. Carl gave his son a light punch on his shoulder. "Watch it, kiddo. You're still not too big to take over my knee." Carl had never needed to spank his son. Stan, his dad, had used his belt on Carl a number of times as he grew up, though Carl had decided from a very early age that he'd try desperately hard not to take the same route to discipline his own children. Carl just didn't think it was an effective way of dealing with misbehaviour. "Oh, be gentle with me, daddy." Ben laughed. He knew that his dad would never strike him, not just because Ben never did anything that would warrant it; he knew that Carl didn't believe in corporal punishment. Ben could only remember one occasion when he'd been naughty; he'd been rude to one of his neighbours for some minor misdemeanour. The neighbour, a rather crotchety old gimmer, had gone round and told Carl all about his disagreeable son. When Ben had entered the house, he saw the disappointed look on his father's face and had immediately burst into tears. Ben hated the fact that he'd caused his idol to think less of him. He promised fervently that he wouldn't do it again. Carl, realising that Ben had been sincere in his apology, hugged the distressed boy to him. The matter had never been spoken of again. "So what do you want?" The two were stood at the counter looking at the menu. Ben, who wasn't much of a curry fan, opted for a chicken korma, Carl, who was a little more adventurous with regard to Indian cuisine, picked a lamb biryani. The pair sat themselves down on the hard wooden bench opposite the counter to wait for their meal to be cooked. "You can always invite your friend, Morgan isn't it? To the house, maybe?" "Yeah perhaps, but he lives on the other side of town." "Well, either one of his parents, or I could fetch him, or perhaps you could go over there sometime?" "Yeah, thanks dad. I'd like that." Carl could never really get to grips with the fact that Ben had few friends. When he was at school, Carl had many acquaintances, though he seemed to knock about with Robbie most of the time. Carl knew that Robbie was a bit like Ben in that respect, he didn't have that many friends at school, either. When their order was ready, Carl handed over the money; Robbie had offered Carl part of his fee in advance 'for materials', this Carl had conceded helped him out enormously. The two got back into the van; Carl drove them home, the warm carrier bag of food being nursed on Ben's knee. "Blimy! You didn't half make a mess didn't you?" Ben said when he saw the devastation that Carl had wrought in the kitchen. "Yeah, I suppose I went a bit overboard." Carl said looking at the numerous dirty bowls, knives, forks, spoons, plates and cups that littered the worktop. There was also the saucepan, which had some inedible glutinous mass lurking at the bottom of it. "I'll give you a hand to clean up after we've eaten." Ben said finding two clean dinner plates in the cupboard. "Thanks." Carl said emptying the contents of their meal onto the plates. * * * * * Robbie walked through his house that evening, wondering if he could get Carl to look at the many windows of the old place. Although Robbie liked Carl around, he didn't want him to think that he was inventing things for him to do. Carl had admitted that work was a bit thin on the ground. Robbie decided he'd just ask for Carl's opinion. 'He might not do windows anyway,' he told himself. Robbie gravitated to the pool room. This he mused was his favourite part of the house. He got out some of the toys and equipment he'd bought earlier that day. Setting out the inflatable rings and air mattresses, he realised that he'd forgotten to buy a foot pump. "Ah well, better use lung power, then." Robbie said setting about inflating one of the airbeds. Robbie felt a little light headed and dizzy when he'd finished his work. He sat on one of the wooden chairs until his vision cleared, then he went into a changing room and donned a pair of trunks. The air mattress was wonderful; Robbie spent a good deal of time just floating around in the pool on it. Though after 15 minutes or so, he got out, dried off a little, and went in search of a portable cassette player. Finding some appropriately relaxing music, he returned to the water and lounged about, allowing the music to soothe him. Although very pleasant, Robbie desperately wished he could share it all with someone. * * * * * "You know, I'm sure Granny Powers would come round and baby-sit me if you wanted to go out tonight, dad." Ben said once they'd cleaned up the kitchen. "Yeah I know she would, but I'm not all that bothered, really." "Seems daft for you to stop in on a Friday night." "I don't mind." "Don't you get kind of lonely, I mean wouldn't you like to find someone and well, erm, you know, share your life with them?" Ben was trying to remove any gender specific references to his comments. Ben honestly wasn't sure if his dad was truly straight, bisexual or whatever. To his knowledge, his mother had been the only person his dad had ever slept with. "Well, I've got you to look after. Not many people would want to shack up with me because I've got a kid." Then Carl realised that his comment could be hurtful to Ben, something he most certainly hadn't intended. "What, not even a kid as cute as me?" Ben's words reassured Carl. "Cheeky sod." Carl lightly whacked the tea towel at his son. "Honestly I don't mind really. Yeah, sometimes it gets a bit lonely, but hey I've got you for company, kiddo, and I wouldn't swap you for all the tea in China." Carl dropped the cloth, walked behind Ben and hugged him. "You're just a big softie aren't you, dad?" "Yeah, but don't tell anyone." Carl said rubbing his nose in his son's mop of brown hair. Ben giggled. Carl watched Ben do his exercises; he'd agreed to allow him to cut back on the ones he found painful. Carl didn't know if the doctors would approve, but then they didn't have to see his son in pain, a sight that tore at his heart. Then as usual they settled down to watch TV. "Well, seeing as how you won't go out and find someone to love and hug you, I guess I'll have to do it, then." Ben said knee walking over to the sofa. * * * * * Ben's last week at school passed quickly; he handed in his textbooks, made sure he didn't have any library books outstanding, and that really was about it. On the last day of school, everyone was allowed to bring in some board games and play quietly. Ben sought out his friend Morgan, who was just sitting in a corner; he hadn't been chosen to play in any of the games with the other kids. Seeing him looking so forlorn, Ben excused himself from a game of Ludo he'd been playing, and went over to Morgan. The two decided to play Connect 4, snakes and ladders, and other similar games together. Though Ben sighed in relief when the end of school bell finally rang. Although Ben was a quiet and shy boy, he was positively effervescent compared to Morgan, who just seemed to sit their with his thick brown plastic framed spectacles balancing on the tip of his nose, a permanent dew drop of snot always seemed to be present at the end of his nose, too. Ben began to regret his offer to spend some time with his friend over the holiday. What would they talk about? Once the bell had sounded, Ben watched in fascination as the school emptied at lightening speed. Fearing he'd hurt his back in the crush, Ben stepped to one side and allowed the crowd of excited pupils to pass him by. Then he slowly walked the now empty corridors, reviewing the past four years of his life, which he'd spent at Greenville Middle School. 'It wasn't such a bad place, really.' He looked through the windows at the now silent classrooms, now devoid of their inhabitants who would sit there either thirsting for knowledge or praying for the end of their torture. How many hours had he sat on one of those hard wooden chairs being taught to play the recorder, shown the 'joys' of long division, or being swept up in the exciting events surrounding the reign of King Henry VIII and his six wives? 'No,' Ben mused. 'I've quite enjoyed being at this school.' Ben felt a little sad that he'd be leaving the middle school. It had been a place in which he'd grown to feel comfortable, safe and secure. He didn't relish the prospect of swapping all the cosy familiarity for a much bigger school, but progress was progress, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Just before he went out through the main doors, Ben turned round and gave the place a final glance, then he pushed the door and exited the school for the last time. He walked to the lines of schoolchildren squabbling and jostling as they impatiently awaited the buses to take them home. Ben joined the line for the bus that would take him to his grandparents' house. As he waited, Ben said his quiet goodbyes to the people who weren't going to St Winifred's with him. They weren't friends exactly, just people he passed in the corridors or who he'd shared joint projects with, but Ben realised that he would miss their familiar faces none the less. Once his bus came, he got on, showed his pass for the last time to the disinterested driver; he found himself a quiet corner of the vehicle, and allowed his thoughts to wander as the bus carried him the half-mile or so to his stop. * * * * * Robbie had broached the subject of replacing the draughty windows in the house with Carl. The latter had advised him that he'd be much better off having secondary windows put in behind the existing ones. Because the house was a grade II listed building, it would be difficult to gain permission to change the exterior look of the house. Carl had told Robbie that it was only worth adding secondary glazing to the rooms that would be used the most. Robbie appreciated his friend for not suggesting a full re-glaze. Carl was grateful for the extra work, not just because he could do with the money, but because he'd enjoyed being close to his friend. Carl hadn't been looking forward to their parting, he'd feared that once he'd finished his work he'd not see that much of Robbie again. It was odd, Carl thought, when they had been younger, Robbie had been far less confident; much more willing to just remain in his shadow, just doing whatever Carl suggested they do. Carl really liked the more confident and outgoing man that Robbie had become. Carl told Robbie that he had a few other work commitments, which would take a couple of weeks or so to fulfil, but then he'd be able to start work on the windows. As Carl packed up for the weekend, Robbie plucked up his courage and invited him and Ben to come up the next day and spend some quality time together. Carl was grateful for the offer; he had enjoyed the other evening, and if Robbie hadn't spoken up, he would have tried to swing the conversation round to them spending time together, too. So with firm arrangements made, the two friends happily parted company. Robbie went into the kitchen, he was aware from the noise of saucepans being rattled, that Sarah was about to dish up and he knew he dare not be late. That would certainly upset the apple cart; Sarah was royally pissed off with him as it was. Robbie had broached the subject of getting in some extra help in the house a few days earlier. Not unsurprisingly Sarah had taken umbrage on hearing the proposal. He'd planned his line of attack beforehand though. He knew that Sarah's arthritis was bothering her; she wasn't getting any younger, and frankly it wasn't fair that all the housework should fall to her. Robbie had appealed to Sarah's sense of tradition to get his way. He pointed out that when her mother and grandmother had worked in the house, the cook did not do the cleaning. Robbie strengthened his argument by telling her that she'd have final say on who would get the job, he further told her that she would be in charge. The icing on the cake came when Robbie told her that he didn't want the old traditions of service to be lost. He pointed out that she'd never married, so she was unable to pass on the lifetime of skills that she'd gained, and therefore it was her duty to train someone up. Robbie knew he was laying it on a bit too thickly, but the ends justified the means. Sarah chose to ignore the fact that she knew Robbie was merely buttering her up, she was fully aware that Robbie hated all the traditional values of having servants. However, the prospect of being able to pass on all the skills she'd been taught was too tempting to dismiss. She sought and was given the reassurance that the 'new girl wouldn't be allowed to interfere in my kitchen.' Therefore she'd grudgingly agreed to the idea. Secretly, Sarah was glad of the extra help; she was finding it increasingly difficult to look after everything on her own. It was wonderful that Robbie had been so thoughtful, but she wasn't going to tell him that. She had her image of unbending standards to maintain. This was the reason why the pans were being so mistreated when Robbie entered the kitchen. Sarah was also displeased that she'd been given the weekend off to go and visit her sister in Leeds. She didn't think that Robbie would be able to manage on his own. Sarah chose to ignore the fact that he'd looked after himself with no ill effect for the past fourteen years. As they ate, Sarah still maintaining an outward façade of disapproval, Robbie told her that Carl and Ben were coming up the next day, but she wasn't to worry because he would go into town later and pick up some steaks, which he'd grill on the outside barbecue. "Go to Johnson's, and tell them that you don't want any of their usual gristle that they'd serve up to you if you didn't watch them." Robbie had intended to get the meat from the supermarket, all nicely pre-packed and marinaded, but he wisely nodded in agreement. "I'll make up a bowl of marinade for you. I've got my own recipe" (pronouncing it receipt) "And I'll make up some bowls of salad and leave them in the large refrigerator." "You don't need to go to all that trouble." "I want to make sure that that little lad gets all the nourishment he can, the poor mite." Sarah had gone into paroxysms of protective overload when she had learned of Ben's arthritis. Robbie took the line of least resistance, and agreed to Sarah preparing the salad and marinade. The two ate in a more companionable silence for the remainder of the meal. * * * * * "This one has been itching to get here since seven o'clock." Carl said once Robbie had opened the front door on Saturday morning. "Hello guys, please come in." Robbie said, a broad smile plastered on his face. "It's nice to know that I'm so popular." "Yeah, it's a cool place, this." Ben said stepping over the threshold. "Thanks. I'm afraid it's all guys together today. Sarah, much against her better judgement, is having the weekend off, and is spending it with her sister over in Leeds. I packed her off on the train first thing. So she'll be terrorising someone else for a change." "Oh, I like Sarah." Ben said. "I know. I do too. Promise you won't tell her what I just said?" Robbie asked mussing up Ben's hair. "Well, it all depends on how well you treat me today." Ben grinned. "Don't be cheeky." Carl scolded light-heartedly. "Well, shall we start the royal treatment with breakfast? Or have you already eaten?" "We had some cold cereal, but dad said you'd feed us up anyway." "I said nothing of the kind." Carl defended. Robbie laughed. "Well, to the kitchen then. Despite what Sarah might think, I can cook pretty well. I had to when I lived in London." After they'd eaten a hearty meal, Robbie suggested that they go into the Drawing room and let their stomachs go down. "Don't you need a hand with the washing up?" Carl questioned. "No, the machine will do it, but I haven't got a full load yet." Robbie said stacking the dishwasher. Ben had asked if he could have a go on Robbie's computer; he didn't have one at home, and the ones at school were always in use. Robbie lead him to the study and left him there while he and Carl retired to the Drawing room. "We haven't spent that much time alone for ages have we?" Carl said. This was true, on their previous meetings Carl had either been working, or they'd had Ben around. "No, I guess not." Robbie replied. The two then fell into an uncomfortable silence. Robbie hoped that Carl wouldn't bring up the painful subject of their parting, and Carl didn't want to rock the boat. "So then." Carl eventually said breaking the silence. "Yeah." Robbie said, silence descended once again. After about a minute with the pair staring at their shoes, Carl spoke. "I've been given the chance of a few weeks work on a building site in Boroughton. Though it's a bit of a drive every day." "Yeah, it's a bit far I guess, but you need to go where the work is, I suppose." "I don't know. I'm probably going to turn it down." "Why?" "Well, I promised you I'd deal with the windows here." What Carl wasn't saying was that he'd miss spending time at the house and with Robbie. "Oh for goodness sake, Carl! Take the job, I'm assuming it's good money?" "Yeah, they're building an estate of new houses, it could lead to more work after this one's done anyway." "Then take the damned job. Look I don't know that much about the construction industry, but I imagine you can't really work on a building site in the winter when it's snowy and icy?" "Well, there are things we can do in the covered-over houses, you know all the interior woodworking and stuff. But generally things do calm down a bit in the winter." "Right, well, do the windows in the winter when things calm down a bit, then." "Are you sure, Rob?" "Carl, you said yourself that this thing could lead to other work, you can't afford to turn it down." "Well, there's Ben to think about." "How do you mean?" "Well, because it's at the other side of Lancashire, I won't be able to get home early what with all the travelling, and sometimes I might have to stay over." "Carl." Robbie said standing up and pacing the room. "Do you trust me? I mean, I know Ben is the most precious thing in the world to you, but would you trust me with him?" "Err, yeah, of course. You said it was okay for him to spend some of the summer holidays with you." Carl said not really understanding. "Well, if you have to work late, or sleep over near the job, Ben is most welcome to stay here." "I don't want to impose, I don't want him under your feet." "Oh God, Carl, there's five empty bloody bedrooms in this damn house. He could sleep in any of them he wanted. Hell, he could swap round every night if it pleased him to do so." "Yeah, sorry." Carl said quietly. "Look, Car," Robbie was using the shortened version of his friends name for the first time since they were teenagers. "Ben's an absolutely fantastic kid, I don't mind admitting I'M A BIT envious of you to tell the truth, please get it into that sawdust-filled head of yours, that Ben is welcome to stay as long or as often as he likes here." Robbie didn't add that the same was also true for Carl. "Sorry Rob. You're right. Ben's my life; I don't know what I'd do without him. He's the best thing I ever had a hand in creating." Carl looked down at his hands which were folded in his lap. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with you and Maureen. You always seemed so happy together whenever I saw you at school." Robbie tried to push away the images, which were more than a little painful for him. "Yeah, I don't think we ought to have gotten married actually." Carl said quietly. "I loved her, but I don't think I loved her enough, if you see what I mean?" "Yeah Car, I do." "You never found anyone to love, then?" Carl said looking at Robbie who had his back turned away from him as he gazed out of the window. "I did," Robbie said almost whispering. "But it ended." Robbie was both remembering his wished-for relationship with Carl, and the tragic loss of Patrick. A few tears began to form in Robbie's eyes. He remained turned away from Carl though; he didn't want to let him see him so upset. Carl, sensing his friend's distress, rose to his feet and strode over. "Sorry Rob, it'll be okay." Carl gave Robbie a brotherly hug. Robbie clung on tightly as his emotions overwhelmed him. He cried for his two lost loves, even though one of them was holding him. "It's okay Rob, just let it all go, love. Let all the bad stuff out." Carl rocked his friend in his arms. Robbie eventually got control of his emotions again. "You must have loved her very much." Carl said rubbing his hands on Robbie's back. It took all Robbie's will power not to tell Carl that it was a man, nay two men who he'd lost. "It's all over and done with, now." Robbie said avoiding the question. He dried his eyes, broke away from the awesomely wonderful embrace of his friend and returned to his seat. Carl's arms felt a little empty. He'd forgotten how comfortable his friend felt in them. He too returned to his seat. The two spent another hour or so talking about safer subjects, Ben seeming to occupy most of their attention. Carl told Robbie that Ben would be going up to their old school in September, this lead to the pair reminiscing about their own schooldays, and how they appreciated the whole thing far more now, than they did back then. * * * * * "Those on-line games are really great." Ben said enthusiastically as he joined Robbie and Carl in the Drawing room. "You can really play them with a high-speed connection." "Yeah, though they really aren't my thing." Robbie said. "So, can I have a swim before we have lunch?" Ben asked hopefully. "Lunch? We only had breakfast, or should I say a second breakfast a few hours ago." Carl said. "Yeah, well I'm a growing lad." Robbie looked at Carl, who nodded, and the three of them made their way into the pool room, Carl and Ben picking up their bags on the way. "Listen guys, leave your stuff here today, it seems daft you bringing it and taking it home again each time." Robbie said. "Good idea." Carl enthused, as he chased Ben into the changing room, going in after him. Robbie went into the other room and changed into his swimwear. The three spent the rest of the morning splashing, racing and dunking one another. Then Robbie got out the special equipment and put Ben through his paces. Ben particularly enjoyed using a girdle float device, which looked like an oversized pair of oven gloves. The place where you'd normally put your hands held two large pieces of polystyrene. The idea was to place your bottom on the material between the two floats, then lie back in the water. To prevent Ben's head from going under, Robbie slipped an inflatable support under his neck, which resembled half a ring. Ben propelled himself around the pool by kicking his legs and moving his arms. The fact that his bottom was elevated higher than the rest of his spine, helped to straighten his back somewhat. Ben enjoyed himself immensely; it was much better than the horrible floor exercises he normally had to do. As Robbie watched the scene, he was so pleased that the few pounds he'd spent were being put to such benefit. Carl, too, was delighted that his son was so happy and receiving treatment for his condition. He felt an almost overwhelming sense of love for his friend for being thoughtful enough to provide the equipment. He slung an arm across Robbie's shoulder and gave him a squeeze of thanks. After a suitable interval, Robbie got out of the water, dried off, slipped on a pair of lightweight trousers, and a long-sleeved sweatshirt. He knew from previous experiences not to barbecue with shorts and a T-shirt, not after getting spat at by an angry sausage once, anyway. He went into the kitchen and got out the bowl of marinated meat. Sarah had insisted on putting the meat in the liquid herself; she didn't trust Robbie to leave it soaking for a long enough period. Carl came into the kitchen and asked, "Can I lend a hand?" "Erm, yeah, you could take out that big bowl of salad, and there's some bread rolls in the bread crock there, too." The two men took the food out to a wooden deck that was accessed from the pool room. Robbie got on with lighting the grill, and then he went back into the kitchen to get a few more items. As the weather was looking a little overcast, the three decided to cook the meal outdoors, but eat by the pool. "God, Rob, how many are you cooking for?" Carl said when he saw the quantities of food that had been prepared. "I know, its Sarah's doing actually. She didn't want me to starve whilst she was away." "No danger of that, even with the human dustbin about." Carl said putting an arm around his son. "Daaad!" Feeling brave, Robbie asked. "Well you could always come back again tomorrow and help me eat it up? If it isn't all gone by the time Sarah comes back, I'll be for the high jump." "Well, we have plans to have Sunday dinner with my mum and dad, I'm afraid." Carl said. Robbie tried not to show his disappointment; he realised he shouldn't be selfish. He had the pleasure of his friends today; he couldn't be greedy, and he would see Ben on Monday because of the start of the holiday. "Oh dad, Grandma will only give us the usual over-cooked roast beef, and it'll be like eating shoe leather, and she'll have boiled the cabbage for hours, too." Carl smiled. "Yeah I know she's no cook, but we promised. You know how she likes to see us on Sundays, family tradition and all that." "Yeah, guess so." Ben said not convinced. "Fancy a couple of beers with the meal?" Robbie asked trying to change the subject, and wanting to squeeze as much out of the time he had with Carl and Ben as he could. "Yeah, go on then, I won't be driving for a bit." Carl said consulting his watch. Robbie went back into the kitchen and got out a few bottles of lager. "Cheers mate." Carl said when Robbie came back and handed his friend a bottle, plus the opener. "Oh, the good stuff I see. Can't be bad if you can afford it?" Carl said reading the label. Then he looked up to see a pained expression on Robbie's face. "Oh mate, I'm sorry." Carl stood up, put the bottle on the table and put an arm around Robbie. "Forgive me, I know you don't show off your money like that, I just didn't think. Shit, I've spoilt things now." "Oh no, don't be silly, it's okay. I just picked up a box of bottles at the supermarket, I didn't really look at the label." Carl thought that it must be nice to be able to shop without examining the labels, and more importantly the price tags, but he said nothing. He then felt guilty for his thoughts. "Yeah, come on then, let's get this food eaten." The three of them began eating; all three seemed to have built up a healthy appetite. Though Carl had to coax Ben into eating some salad with his meal. "You can't just eat bread and meat, it isn't healthy." He told him. "Yeah, okay then, but no cucumber, you don't want me farting in the pool later, do you?" The two men broke out laughing at the imagined scene. "No, okay, I won't make you eat the cucumber." Carl said opening a second bottle of lager. 'It's good stuff this,' he told himself. "And who's for strawberries and cream?" Robbie said when the three of them had eaten their fill of the main course. "Bloody hell, I'll not be able to move if I do." Carl said. "Well, just have the strawberries then." Robbie encouraged. "You've twisted my arm." Carl caved. Robbie smiled and stood up to go back to the kitchen. Ben said he'd lend him a hand. "I'll take a few more beers for you and dad." Ben said getting a handful out of the fridge. He had a plan, he wanted to get his dad and Robbie a bit tipsy, 'Then hopefully their tongues would loosen with the alcohol, and maybe, just maybe...' "Right, okay." Robbie said as he put the strawberries into the glass fruit bowls. He then reached into the refrigerator for a carton of double cream. He'd suggested to Sarah that he could just buy a can of aerosol cream, but the disgusted look on her face at the suggestion caused Robbie to revise his intended purchase. "I won't be able to move now." Carl said rubbing his distended stomach, after he'd eaten a bowl of strawberries, with cream. Throughout the sweet course, and the subsequent conversation, Ben had been surreptitiously making sure both his dad and Robbie always had a bottle of lager to hand. Carl, who was too busy enjoying himself with the good company and equally good food, didn't really take that much notice of his alcohol consumption. Robbie likewise was enjoying himself, had downed a third then a fourth bottle. It was only after visiting the toilet that Carl realised his senses had become a little impaired. "Sorry Rob, I think I've overdone it with the sauce. Have you got any black coffee, so I can sober up before I drive me and the squirt home?" "Rob?" Ben asked timidly. "Yeah, mate." Robbie was feeling nice and mellow. He wasn't drunk, but he had a happy buzz on. "Well, as dad has drunk a bit too much to drive, would it be okay if we stopped the night?" "No, I don't mind at all." Robbie said before Carl could get in a protest. "Good, that'll mean you two could have another drink, then." Ben said getting up and going into the kitchen for more booze. "Can I try it?" Ben asked when he'd returned and had handed his dad another bottle. Ben had been drinking coke the whole time. "You won't like it." "Well, I could try a little." "Okay, then." Carl didn't mind too much, he knew Ben was a good kid; he wouldn't allow him to have much, anyway. Ben tipped a little of the beer into a glass and drunk it down. The stuff tasted horrible, Ben pulled a face and the others laughed. "Told you." Carl said continuing to chuckle. "Your granddad let me have my first drink of beer when I was about your age. I hated it, too. You'll gradually learn to like it though, but not for a long time, son. I won't mind you having the odd half a glass with a meal when you're about sixteen, but you're too young at twelve to get a taste for it." "Yeah, okay, dad." Ben wasn't bothered really. He knew his dad was right. Carl never laid down the law about anything, he always discussed and reasoned with Ben, and then the two would come to an agreement. Once that agreement had been reached, both parties knew where they stood. As the two adults drank their lager, they became more relaxed around one another, telling Ben about their shared schoolboy activities. The stories became increasingly improbable as their state of inebriation grew. Though unfortunately for Ben, Robbie had a tight hold of his feelings; he'd had a lifetime of practice concealing his true thoughts. Though Ben's spirits did rise when the two got up, put their arms around one another and promised fervently that they'd not break up again. The reason for their break-up wasn't discussed. Carl and Robbie staggered arm in arm to the Drawing room, then they promptly fell asleep on the large uncomfortable couch, still holding onto each other. "Oh well, never mind." Ben said. "It was worth a try." He got himself a book from the library, and settled himself in an armchair, his reading accompanied by the snores of the adults. To be continued.