Date: Tue, 08 Aug 2023 11:09:41 +0000
From: Jonah
Subject: Tha Happiest Days  Chapter 9

The Happiest Days
by Jonah

This is a story about love - real love - at work in the lives of good
people.  It follows on from "Halls of Academia," but the story really began
many, many moons ago with "A Letter from America".  There are no real
people herein so, if you think one of the characters is based on you, or on
somebody you know, have another think and come up with a different answer.
Having said that, I didn't invent every character.  A couple of them were
originally crafted by another author.  I have to (well, actually, it is my
pleasure to) thank Jacob Lion, in the USA for his permission to use his
characters in my stories.

I hope you will enjoy this story, and I'm grateful to Nifty for enabling me
to bring it to you.  Nifty does not charge either me or you for doing so,
but it does cost money to do it.  Please consider donating to Nifty at
https://donate.nifty.org/ to help keep this site going.

Chapter 9    From the ashes

Well Jean was as good as her word.  I was proud of the two boys who behaved
impeccably in her home.  Neither of them could do enough to help her and
she accepted all offers of help with a good grace.

At bedtime we tucked in the boys and then settled down for a chat with
Jean.

"I'm afraid I don't have spirits or beer," she told us, "but there's a very
good apricot wine that I quite like, if you'd like to join me."

We would and did.  Jean felt that, since I didn't have any meetings planned
the following day, Philip could stay with me.  There would still be some
shopping to do, but she reccomended I also have a look in at home to see
how the workmen were progressing.

"You want to satisfy yourself that they're doing what you want," she said.

She was right of course, so the next morning, at about eleven, Philip and I
parked up outside our home.  The front door was open so I went in.

"Hallo!" I called.

"In here Bor!" said a voice from the living room.

The living room looked different from how I had last seen it.  The
floorboards were bare and the furniture had gone. On a stepladder in the
middle of the room a middle aged man was doing something with a flat
trowel.  He climbed off when he saw us and deposited the trowel in a large
bucket of water.

"Paul Herbert," he told me.  "Alliance gave us the job of making good, so I
brought two of my lads and got started on it right away.  We'll not be in
your hair for long."

"I can see that," I replied.  "I didn't expect you to have made so much
progress."

He quickly glanced at Philip then lowered his voice.

"Alliance told us that there were kiddies who were without a home.  I don't
know how other builders go on about that, but we take it seriously.  Our
two lads came to us from an orphanage. They'd had a hard time. It's the job
of all decent people to see that that doesn't happen."

I could only nod agreement, a lump having formed in my throat.

"Well now!" he exclaimed, becoming businesslike and addressing himself to
both Philip and I - I was starting to like this man - "The lads have loaded
up the debris, your old ceiling, the furniture and the carpet, into the
truck and taken it down the tip.  They're going to call in at the builders'
merchants and load up with doors before they come back.  I've already put a
double glazed unit in that window."

I saw that he had.  I hadn't noticed.

"When I ve finished I need to let the ceiling dry.  We'll work upstairs
so's not to disturb it. That'll just leave the doors down here to do in the
morning.  I won't be painting the ceiling since you're getting a decorator
in anyway."

"Well thanks for...." he hadn't finished.

"Alliance said they're getting a heavy cleaner in when I've finished, but
when they told me they were getting in Three Js - who are the best - I told
them there was no need to wait.  They'll start this afternoon.  They should
get their clean finished some time tomorrow so there's no reason you can't
move back in on Friday.  You'll probably want to get fresh bedding.  Three
Js will launder the stuff upstairs for you but, if it were me, I'd want
fresh anyway.  All that 'll need doing is decorating this room and the hall
and stairwell but, when you get him in, the decorator will work round you."

There was a noise of a heavy diesel engine on the driveway and the room
darkened.

"That'll be the lads now."  he told me.  "I'd best get back to the ceiling
or they'll think I'm slacking."

He was off up the ladder as we slid out of the door.  I stopped dead.
There, in the open front doorway stood a god.  I'd have put him at about
eighten or nineteen at the most.  His shirtless torso was tanned and so,
beneath his wavy blond hair, was his swarthy face.  His blue eyes twinkled
as he apologised for being in the way.  I backed into the stairwell and
pulled Philip with me.

 "No, no," I said.  "Carry on"

As he stepped into the living room he called,

"Dad, where do you want these doors stacking?"

I didn't hear the reply because there, in the doorway was another one.
Black hair this time, and a bit more self assurance than the first one.

"Hi!" he said, apparently to both Philip and I, though the friendly wink
was for Philip.  I felt jealous.

Both boys headed back out of the front door.  For want of a better idea
Philip and I followed.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" I asked as the blond one started
unstrapping the load on the truck.  His brother answered for him.

"No, we've got this, thanks. Besides, you're paying for it - or your
insurance is."

This was the occasion for another wink at Philip who, I will swear to my
dying day, almost swooned.  The expression on his face was fairly
unambiguous.  If I didn't know better, I'd have said that the boy was in
lust.

I was glad that my mini was parked on the street because at that moment a
transit van turned onto the driveway and parked nose to nose with the
truck. A tall man got out from the drivers side and called out to our
deity.

"Are you here for the duration Al?"

"You'll be fine Bob," replied the Al-god.  "I'll let you know if we need to
go out again but I don't think we will."

Paul appeared in the doorway.

"Alan," he said sharply.  "Are you going to stand there gossipping and let
Andy unload those doors on his own?"

"Sorry Dad," said Al, and disappeared round the far side of the truck.
Paul walked to the newly arrived van from which four more people were
emerging.

"Morning Bob," he greeted the driver. "You alright to start upstairs this
morning?  I've just plastered the ceiling in the living room."

"Fine by me Paul," replied the other.  "Julie will need to be in the
kitchen of course."

"Thass OK, I shan't need to go in there till tomorrow morning."

"No probs then.  Just tell me which bit of the floor upstairs I need to
jump on."

Paul ignored that, assuming that it was a merry jest.

Philip and I dined at MacDonalds and then popped into Argos to order some
furniture.  Philip didn't have very much to do with arranging for a three
piece suite and a sideboard to be delivered on Friday morning.  I also
ordered a couple of rugs, since it didn't make sense to get a new carpet
before the decorating was done.  I finished the job off by ordering new
bedding.

After all that, I made for the primary school to report to Jean.  She was
surprised at the rate of progress , but pleased.  Philip and I then headed
for her home, having promised to make a start on dinner.

This time Garret and Lloyd got home at the same time as Jean and dinner was
almost ready.  After dinner Jean arranged a game of Trivial Pursuit.  We
played as three teams, Garret and Lloyd, Philip and I versus Jean and her
cat Rosy.  It was the first time I had met the cat, as she is very rarely
in the house.

Either the cat or Jean had played before.  They gave the four of us a sound
thrashing.

Soundly thrashed,the boys were put to bed, then Garret and I sat down to
drink apricot wine with Jean.  Rosy, apparently, didn't like apricot wine
and Jean hadn't got any cider.

Jean said that, if we were staying any length of time, it might be worth
getting in some beer, but I firmly told her to do no such thing.

"Besides, "I said, "the builder tells me we can start moving back in on
Friday."

"Oh Christ!" said Garret, blasphemously.  "Riku!"

To be honest, I had forgotten all about him as well.

"Did you tell him we could put him up?"

"Of course I did - as soon as you told me to."

"Who is Riku?" Jean wanted to know.

"Riku Ito," Garret returned.  "He plays the piano a bit."

"The concert pianist?" Jean clarified.  "He plays more than the piano.
He's very talented.  I saw him at Glyndebourne once.  He played..... now
what was it?"

"The piano?" Garret suggested.  "He's my cousin and he's playing for the
East of England Forces concert at the Castle on Saturday night.  He asked
us to put him up Friday and Saturday, but with all that's been going on,
I'd forgotten all about it."

Jean offered an immediate solution.

"Why don't I put him up for a couple of nights," she suggested.  "You don't
HAVE to move back in on Friday and the boys would be better moving in when
you've had a chance to get the place ready for them."

Garratt thought about that.

"If you're happy to do that Jean," he said, "I'll suggest it to him but,
knowing Riku, he'd probably insist on coming to us if we could only offer
him an air-bed on the floor."

Jean was unruffled.

"Well, see what he says," she replied, "but, if he does insist on coming to
you, I insist that you bring him here for dinner on Friday night."

"That's a very generous offer Jean, after everything......"

"I'm not offering, Mr. Ito," she said firmly.  "I'm insisting."

Garret subsided immediately.

"Yes headmistress," he said meekly.