Date: Thu, 11 Jan 2024 14:02:00 +0000
From: Jonah30 <Jonah30@proton.me>
Subject: Whiteout chapter 10

Whiteout
by Jonah

Those who have read my previous stories will need no introduction to Simon
and Garret and their family.  Those who haven't - why not?  This is the
latest in the series that began a couple of years back with "A Letter from
America" and it fits in right after "Christmas in New England".  If you
haven't read the others, don't worry.  It will stand on its own.  It is a
story of love - the real sort.  Some of its characters are gay, though that
doesn't matter.  They are good people.  They are not, however, real people.
This is a work of fiction and every character is also a fiction - created
by me, except for Garret, who was created by Jacob Lion, in the USA.  I
want to thank Jacob for permitting me to use his characters.  This story is
brought to you, free of charge, by Nifty.  Nifty brings all these stories
to you free of charge and he doesn't charge us authors either.  The cost is
borne by himself and our donations.  To keep this site going please
consider donating to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/

chapter 10

On Friday morning we did indeed let Garret leave first.  I just had time
for a quick cup of tea in the staff room before going to registration.  The
students were better behaved this morning.  I probably startled them by
snapping at Ross yesterday. When they left, a second year form replaced
them for English Language.  They were accompanied by the principal.

"You've got this lot till break, then you're spare if I remember rightly,"
Grev commented.

"That's right Sir."  I couldn't call him "Grev" in front of students.

"Good.  Pop along to my office at break can you?"

Curiouser and curiouser.

All was explained when I arrived at his office after the lesson.  Seated in
the office with Grev was Eric Rust, the L.E.A's trauma counsellor.

"Thanks for coming Simon, " said Grev.  "I just wanted you to have a chat
with Eric.  Well..... I'll leave you to it."

He excused himself and left.

"Have you come straight from a lesson Simon?" asked Eric.

"Second year English," I replied.

"So you won't have had time for a cup of tea either.  I'd have thought
you'd have had your principal trained better than that."

"I'll get us one," I said as I headed to the outer office.

There were cups, tea-bags and everything else that I needed, including the
principal's favourite ginger nuts (brought in each morning by the school
secretary).  I mashed the tea and took biscuits for myself and Eric.

"Right," said Eric as soon as we were both supplied.  "As far as I can
remember, Philip went home from school and, entering his house on his own,
found his mum unconscious and bleeding to death while his father was in
tears.  Unconscious, bleeding, in tears - every one of those is a trauma on
its own, particularly for a young child.  How did you feel when you learned
that that had happened."

"Exactly how you felt about it when you learned that it had happened."

"I wasn't the child's guardian."

"Neither was I at the time.  In fact, I had never even met him."

"He's in Garret's class at school?"

"Yes."

"I knew one of you was his teacher."

"If he'd been at this school, Grev would have had you interviewing him.  In
fact, I still might."

"That'll happen if we both think it is necessary after this interview.  You
said Philip might be contemplating murder."

"No, I said that he said he was.  That doesn't necessarily mean that he
is."

"The words "I'll kill you" are sometimes an expression of strong feelings
rather than murderous intent."

"Exactly."

"How significant do you think it is that, at the time he said that, he knew
that he would never have the opportunity?"

"Not at all significant.  Wishing somebody dead is not something that you
like to learn that anybody is doing."

Well an hour of this sort of thing got us to the conclusion that I
personally wasn't traumatised, but could do with being more willing to talk
things through occasionally, while Philip certainly WAS traumatised but, in
Eric's opinion, living in a loving environment would heal him better than
counselling would. I chose not to point out to Eric that we were precisely
where we had been before he was called in.  Instead I thanked him
courteously.

The remainder of the school day went without incident and Ross was waiting
for me as school finished.

At the hospital we, once more, found Doctor Woods and a posse of medical
types around Mrs. Coulter's tent.  The doctor gave every appearance of
being pleased to see us.

 "Ross, Simon, glad you could make it.  Your mum isn't in deep coma any
more.  We're gradually bringing her out of it.  We have to be careful
because she might start to feel some pain as she surfaces, but I'm glad you
could be here."

"She's breathing more."

"That's right Ross.  She's breathing naturally and on her own.  She's not
really in a coma now.  She's only sleeping.  We're letting her come out
naturally though to avoid shocks."

"Is that why we're talking quietly?"

"Well it was, but there's no point anymore because she's listening to what
you're saying, aren't you Alice."

Ross and I both turned to find the patient's eyes open and watching Ross.
As we looked at her the face broke into a painful smile.  She opened her
mouth but could only manage a quiet grunt.

"Don't try to talk too much Mum," said Ross.  "You've only just come out of
a coma.  Take it easy at first."

"Hey, I'm the doctor around here, but your son's right Alice.  He's a
clever lad."

The smile looked more natural this time.  It would come with practice.

"Mum, this is Mr. Ito.  He's one of my teachers and he's looking after me
while you're in here."

The smile was aimed at me this time.  It increased in radiance then slowly
faded.  She closed her eyes.

"Mum?"

Doctor Woods stepped in front of him and guided him away.

"Your Mother's just had a very stressful day.  She needs her rest."

"Is she alright?"

"She'll be better after a proper sleep.  Your body heals while you're
sleeping you know.  She'll sleep happier now she's seen you."

"Do you want us to go now?" I asked.

"I don't think she'll be awake again much before morning," he replied.  "If
you can come back in the morning I'm sure she'll be glad to see you."

"We can't come back till...."

"Ross."

"What?"

"It's Saturday tomorrow.  There's no school.."

"Oh."

"We'll see you tomorrow Doctor."

Back at the hotel I found a new bank card awaiting me.  Garret had booked
dinner for 6.30pm so we had time for a shower and change before dinner.

Thereafter the evening followed the usual pattern, except that we allowed
bedtime to be a bit later in honour of it being Friday.

On Saturday morning I woke early to find myself face to face with Ross.  He
was clinging tightly to me, but was obviously asleep.  He looked as
handsome in repose as he normally did waking.  More concerning was that I
was clinging equally tightly to him, and I clearly was not asleep.  Since
it would have been impossible to disentangle myself without waking him, it
seemed that the best course would be to go back to sleep.  That was more
easily said than done, but I did it .  I must have done because when I next
awoke I was snuggled up to Garret and Ross was nowhere to be seen.

As soon as he was showered I showered myself.  We were both down in good
time for breakfast.  Nobody else seemed to be in a hurry for it.

It was nearly ten o clock when we got to the hospital.  Again Doctor Woods
was on the ward.

"I didn't think you two would be long in coming," he commented.  "Alice is
awake and seems quite lucid, but don't tire her too much. "

"We won't," Ross promised.

Mrs. Coulter was still under her tent, but was now sitting up.  She smiled
when she saw us.  The bruises on her face were obviously healing but they
did give the impression that smiling must be painful.

"Hallo Mum," said Ross.

"Ross," she whispered.

"Mum, this is Mr Ito, He....."

"Yes..." she whispered, "I know....... thank you."

"It's a pleasure Mrs. Coulter,"

"Alice,"

I smiled.

"Alice...... Ross is a good lad, but he's been really concerned about you.
He's wanted bringing in here every day."

"I know," she said.  "Thank you."

The two of them sat beaming at each other for what seemed a long time.
Alice didn't need to say or hear words.  Just having Ross there was enough.
Ross, for his part, was honouring his promise not to tire his mother.
Eventually Alice kissed her hand then, carefully so as not to dislodge the
canula, she reached out and touched the wall of the tent.  Ross reached out
and touched the tent where her fingers were.  They both smiled.

"Don't let the nurse see you do that," said Doctor Woods stepping behind
him.

"Sorry," said Ross, quickly pulling his hand away.

"I'm going to shoo them out now Alice, but they can come back at the usual
visiting time this evening if they want to."

Alice said something to the doctor that we could not hear.

"Now why wouldn't they want to come and see a lovely lady like you?" the
doctor replied.

 "We WILL see you later Alice," I told her.

Outside the ward the doctor caught us up.

"She's doing tremendously well," he told us, "which is due in no small
measure to you two.  Visiting time's at six, but just come in any time you
like after four."

"Thank you Doctor," I said.

"Yes thanks," said Ross.  "Sorry about...."

"Are you kidding?" returned the doctor.  "Did you see her face when you did
that?  It did her more good than a fortnight at the seaside."

We drove back to the George in brilliant sunshine.  In early March there is
not too much power in brilliant sunshine, but it matched our already
uplifted mood.  We headed back to our room.  Obviously nobody else was
there.  Hotels don't like guests staying in all day.  I sat on the bed and
dialed Garret's number.

"We're off into town," my partner told me, "doing a bit of shopping. Do you
want to meet us at MacDonalds on Red Lion Street, then we can do it
together?"

"We can do that," I told him.  "We're at the George so we can be there in
about twenty minutes."

"Great, we'll see you there."

Red Lion Street is an extension of the A11 via Newmarket Road and
St. Stephen's St. so it is a goodly walk from the George, but Ross and I
were both in good condition.  We both managed to reach the City Centre
branch of MacDonald's in fifteen minutes without any difficulty.  Garret
had taken the boys in as soon as he spotted us in the distance and was busy
playing with touch-screens.  I elbowed him to one side, added Ross' and my
order and paid with my new card. We sat at the table we had nominated and I
brought Garret up-to-date with the state of Ross' mother.  The early Spring
weather was such a contrast with the end of February that everybody's
spirits were lifted.  The boys chatted animatedly until their food arrived,
and not much less animatedly then.

The handsome, blonde teenager seated next to me seemed like a different
person.  He was a good person anyway, to the extent that you didn't notice
the gloom until it suddenly wasn't there.

"You do realise," I told him, "that, if your mum continues to improve at
this rate, you could be the only one of us able to live in his own house."

"I don't think so," he said.  "Even when she's better, it'll be a while
before she's able to drive me to school - if ever."

"Hmmm! Never thought of that, but don't worry - we'll think of something."

"It's our job to think of something," he said.  "I'm sure we will."

"Where does Ross live?" Garret queried.

"Cringleford," I replied.  "Three doors up from Jean."

"You mean Jean who drives past the CTC every morning?"

"Ross says it's for him to sort out," I replied.  "Besides, we don't know
when they'll let his mother go home yet."

"OK," Garret said crisply, "but it's an option when you come to look for
options."

With the inner man (or, in some cases, boy) satisfied, we set out to shop.
We turned Primark inside out, stocked up on reading material and, in
Lloyd's case, drawing materials, and generally weighed ourselves down with
goods.  By three o' clock we were a moving mass of carrier bags.  Purchases
a-plenty protruded from armpits, precariously perched on shoulders and hung
around necks, not to mention occupying both hands.  We could shop no more.
In fact, we could barely do anything any more.  We retraced our steps with
difficulty to the St. Stephen's Car Park, where Garret had left his 4x4.
Eagerly we unloaded ourselves into the capacious boot.

"Right," I announced, "now that we have our hands free again we can go and
shop some more."

Garret applied his most unamused expression.

"Simon," he said, "if you wish to shop, feel free to do so.  Anybody else
who wishes to shop with you may feel free to do so too, but - and mark this
well - it is a long walk to the George, and that is what you would be doing
because this car goes back now."

Nobody replied to that.  Everybody simply strapped themselves into the car.

We were back at the George just after four when Garret promptly booked us
in for dinner at seven.  That done, Ross and I climbed into my car and
headed for the University Hospital.

At the hospital we sanitised and let ourselves into the IC ward.  We found
Alice sitting up and awake inside her tent.

"Hello Ross, hello Mr. Eaton."

"Ito, Mum.  I think it's Japanese."

"Yes, it's Japanese," I said, "but Simon isn't, which is what you should
call me.  I even let your son call me Simon so long as he doesn't get too
cheeky."

"If he's too cheeky, Simon, just clip him around the ear," said Alice.  "
He thinks he's too big for that, but he's not."

"Mr. Ito isn't allowed to do that Mum." said Ross. "That would be corporal
punishment and it's banned."

Years ago, when corporal punishment had first been banned in schools, it
had been quite common for teachers to encounter this sort of thing, but I
was surprised to hear it from Ross.

"It has been banned for a long time Ross, but you really don't want to find
out what we do instead."

"No, and Simon doesn't want to hear you talking like that," said Alice.
"It's not how you were brought up."

Ross looked crestfallen.

"Sorry Mum," he muttered.  "Sorry Mr. Ito."

I was intrigued that he addressed me formally when apologising.

"That's alright Ross," I said.  "Apology accepted."

"Is he being good," Alice asked, concern showing in her voice.

"When you get better," I told her, "my family are going to miss him."

She smiled.  She really was very good at doing that.

"When are you going to be better?"

"Fed up with us already Ross?"

"I don't know dear.  The doctor talked to me this afternoon.  He says I'm
doing well, but there were a lot of injuries.  He's sure the broken leg is
setting but the chest injuries have to take their own time, and then there
was my head.  I guess no amount of knocking about could knock any sense in
there."

"I doubt he could even guess how long it will take," I told her, "but as
long as It does take, we'll make sure Ross is alright.  You'll know all
about that, because I won't be allowed any peace unless I bring him in
here."

Alice looked at her son and smiled.

"It's lovely to see you."

I saw the smile but I also saw the tiredness in her eyes.

"It does him good to see you too," I told her.  "Ross, do you remember what
the doctor said about not tiring your mother?"

"Oh yes," He turned to his mother.  "We'll come and see you tomorrow Mum."

Another tired smile.

"Simon might not want to bring you."

"No danger of that Alice.  Do you want to lie down?"

Her eyes closed as she nodded her head.

"I'll tell the nurse.  Goodnight Alice."

"Goodnight dear."

"Goodnight Mum."

I poked my head into the cubicle.

"I think Alice wants to lie down.  We've tired her out."

"Thank you, she's been looking forward to you all day."

"We'll pop in and see her tomorrow."

"Any time.  Don't worry about visiting hours."

We exited the ward precisely as Dave Woods was about to enter it.

"Oho!  Thought you'd escape did you?"  said the doctor.

"Doesn't anyone ever escape from here?" I asked.

"Not without us putting up a fight," he replied.  "How was Alice?"

"We've worn her out.  She's going to try and sleep."

"More good news," he muttered.  "I don't think we need worry about brain
damage though.  She's as sharp as they come."

"Yes she's a remarkable lady."

"Well we're certainly pleased with her.  If she keeps this up we can move
her to a ward on Monday.  We just want to make sure she's physically strong
enough.  She's been sitting up most of the day and not showing any ill
effects.  Are you popping in tomorrow?"

"Do you think I'd be allowed not to?"

"Point taken.  I shouldn't be in tomorrow, but I'm not counting on it."

"Well, let's hope we don't see you tomorrow then.  Goodnight Doctor."

Back at the hotel a masterpiece was being created.  Garret had Philip
seated on his lap while Lloyd attempted to capture them for posterity in 4B
pencil.

"I'm calling it "Madonna and the Chump" announced Lloyd.

"That's not very nice Lloyd, " I said, " Calling Dad a chump."

"No, Dad keeps calling Philip a...."

"I keep calling him a champ, Lloyd.  Do pay attention.  I call you it too."

"Well we can't both be the champions."

"that's what I thought," replied Garret.  "I thought, "they can't both be
champions, it can't be done," but then you both prove me wrong by doing
it."

"Great, so we've got two champions," said a voice from the corner.

"Three," corrected Garret.

" I don't want to be a champion.  You get no peace.  You get followed by
fans and reporters and people wanting....

"Barry....." I interrupted.

"What?"

"Can I have your autograph?"

"Huh!" he huffed as he once more buried himself in "East Anglian Steam".

We passed a pleasant hour till dinner time.  Our Saturday night meal was a
good one, but then the Arlington Bistro always served good meals.  We opted
for a starter, rather than a dessert, on the basis that we could always
order a dessert later if we were still hungry (we had boys with us - always
hungry), but Garret and I were confident that wouldn't happen.  After
filling ourselves up we returned to our room to while the rest of the
evening away with the television.

Bedtime was not late, since we had tired the boys out earlier.  Garret saw
them to their beds and then despatched me to turn the light off.

"Is Ross' mummy nearly better?"

"Why, do you want to get rid of Ross then Lloyd?"

"No, Ross is nice.  I wish he slept with us."

"Since you'll be asleep it won't really matter."

"Is he always asleep when he goes to bed with you?" asked Barry.

"I expect so.  I can't really tell because I'm asleep too."

"Then he doesn't..." Barry trailed off

"Doesn't what?"  I asked.

Philip giggled.  That was enough to tell me that this was a converstion
that needed to be had.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Barry," I began.  "No, not Barry, all of you.  Listen up.  Philip thought
that was funny, because you were talking about what you thought was dirty
and, perhaps, naughty.  Well it isn't.  It's perfectly normal.  It's
private, so you probably shouldn't have been talking like that, but it's
not dirty.  You three all sleep in the same bed.  You're nearly old enough
to be affected by this.  Your bodies start to change in some ways and
you're growing up.  When that happens a lot of children start to experiment
to see what their bodies can do, and whether they like it.  I can't tell
you not to do that, because you'd probably do it anyway, but I am going to
tell you this.  Be kind to each other, and respectful.  Don't do anything
to anyone that they don't want you to.  If you need to know things, come
and talk to Garret or me about it.  And, remember that people are entitled
to private lives.  Everybody is different and not everybody wants to talk
about their differences.  Respect that.  Any questions?"

There was silence.

"Then go to sleep.  Goodnight boys."

There was a ragged chorus of goodnights as i kissed each one then switched
off the light.