Date: Tue, 8 Dec 2015 17:47:07 +0000
From: James <niftyaccount27@yahoo.com>
Subject: New Life with Denholm-submission 13

New life with Denholm- submission 13

A surprise to myself that I had the time to write this, although it was
written over a period of a few days so it may not be as flowing as I
hoped. Again I'd like to say thanks for reading this far and any comments
positive or negative about the story, I'd love to hear and will reply back
as soon as I can. Please don't forget to donate to nifty.

Also, thank you to the author known as 'Charlie.fenderson' for constant
feedback and comments. You should go and check out his work and I think
you'll be amazed at the quality of his writing given he's not a native
English speaker.


So it was now Friday morning. Sam and Matty would be picked up about eight
by their mum, who I'd have to talk to. I'd certainly enjoyed having the two
of them over for a few days, and as I told them the day before, they were
more than welcome to visit during the holidays as long as it was ok with
their parents.  I must admit that I was surprised their mum let them both
stay with just me, knowing my dad was away on business. I was just happy
nothing happened to them, hopefully meaning they'd be allowed to come(in
both ways) in the future too.

I was woken by my daily 6 o'clock alarm signalling it was time for me to go
for a run, but I switched it off straight away, too tired to even consider
getting out of bed. Denholm rolled over to face me, his eyes half shut and
lips pouted out. I loved how he looked on a morning, I think everyone finds
the sleepy face attractive in some way, and this was certainly no different
with Denholm.

"Why aren't you going?" He said, deciding by now to just keep his eyes
shut.

"I'm too tired."

"Mmhhkay. Set an alarm for ten minutes. I want to have a few more hours
with the twins."

I did so and rolled back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, it wasn't from my alarm, it was from Sam who was
stood by the side of the bed I was on.

"Wake up!" He shouted. "It's 7 o'clock. We're leaving in an hour."

"Shit, Denholm, wake up. My alarm didn't go off."

I looked at the set alarms on my phone and realised I'd set it for ten past
6 at night. What a fucking tool.

Sam was still looking at me, seemingly annoyed. "Don't think I've forgot
about last night."

"Huh?"

"You were supposed to fuck me but didn't."  He followed with, as he began
to stroke himself in front of me.

"Not now, we haven't got time. Maybe next time you're here?"

"Urghh fine." He moaned, as he signalled for Matty to go to their room on
the third floor to start to pack. "Can I have that in writing?" He joked,
before I smiled dismissively as he turned and headed downstairs.

I looked over at Denholm who looked a little upset, so I asked what was up.

"I wanted to do something with them today, but can't anymore. when will
they next be allowed over?"

"It's up to their mum. I'll talk to her today don't worry. And you've got
the whole 6 weeks to go yet. I'm sure they'll be over more than a few
times."

"Can we do something today then?"

"Whatever you want bud."

He smiled, then stood up, heading towards the bathroom.

"Come on." He said, a devious look on his face. "They'll be a while yet."

"I like the sound of that..."I said as I jumped up like an exited child and
followed him into the bathroom.

We showered together for about ten minutes, more focused on touching each
other'd bodies than actually washing ourselves, although we weren't exactly
dirty, mainly sweaty from sleeping with each other in a warm room with no
air conditioning. I made a note to ask my dad about that when he came back
this weekend.

We dried ourselves, dressed and headed down quickly to make something to
eat. I received a call as I was making scrambled eggs for the four of us
but Sam recognised the unknown number and said it was his mum. I told him
to answer it and tell her I was busy making breakfast.

"She said she'll be an hour." He said eventually with a disappointed groan.

This was actually a good thing. I hoped they'd be picked up sooner rather
than later so I could make sure Denholm was completely ready, and that I
hadn't forgotten anything. I did my best to keep them upbeat and kept
ensuring they knew that they'd be welcome over anytime.

"Maybe next time we can meet your dad. It was nice of him to do what he
did." Matty stated.

"Maybe you will. And I think your mum will want to meet him too given the
fact that you two will be here from time to time. It was nice of her to let
you come here knowing my dad was away."

They both looked away at this point, as if to mask something they'd
done. Then then turned to Denholm who sighed and then mustered up the
courage to tell me.

"She thinks that your dad actually is here. She said they wouldn't be
allowed to come if he wasn't, so they had to lie..."

I looked again at the twins, and waited for them to look me in the eyes
again, which they'd been avoiding. When they finally did so, I raised my
eyebrows at them in disapproval and told them we'd have to tell her that my
dad went out for the day, but in future not to lie to her otherwise she
could find out and they wouldn't be allowed over again.

I sent them upstairs to get their bags and to leave them next to the door,
so that they'd be ready by the time they were picked up. We ate together
and then watched TV in the living room whilst waiting for their mum. I was
sat in the single armchair while the other three boys sat on the large sofa
together, with Denholm in the middle.

The hour quickly passed, especially for Denholm as he spent his final time
with his best friends before they left while he went to his mothers
funeral. They mentioned that they were leaving for their holiday to Turkey
on the night time and would be back in about two weeks. This got me
thinking about the holiday me and my dad would normally have during the 6
week break and how it would change this year. The difference with my family
compared to most, is that my dad would always get last minute deals for
holidays; not because it would be cheaper, but because he liked to find
secluded places which hadn't been fully booked by then. All inclusive
holidays were completely off the agenda when it came to my dad, he hates
having to share everything with other families and doesn't think that
holidays should consist of spending a few weeks around the same pool
surrounded by fellow British people. I guess I was lucky in that every
holiday I had was different and unique. I think it would be nice this year
to give Denholm a decent holiday that he'd remember.


When the twins' mum pulled up outside, I felt inclined to go out and greet
her, given she hadn't met me and she trusted me to look after her
boys. (Well, she trusted my dad.)

"Hi, you must be James." She smiled before reaching out her hand to greet
me.  I don't know if you'll know who I'm talking about, but she resembled
Will's mum off the Inbetweeners, a British TV show. If you haven't seen it,
which is likely given its only really popular in the UK, then I'd describe
her appearance as young, with long dark hair and a friendly face. She
looked too young to be a parent, and if I was straight then I'd definitely
be staring at her breasts as she leaned over to hug her boys. Actually, I
did that anyways, simply out of curiosity as to how a mother of twins could
look so nice.

"I hope you don't mind, but my dad had to go into work for a few hours, so
couldn't be here to meet you."

I glanced over at the three boys with a knowing look as I carried on,
ignoring Sam's grin as I clearly lied to his mother.

"He said it was a pleasure to have these two over and he said they'd be
welcome any time."

"Oh not to worry, and I'm glad to hear that. "

She then turned to her boys and pulled them close to her, "And at least you
two behaved yourselves, I guess I'll let you stay here again if you want
to."

"Yeah! When?"

"Well we'll be back in two weeks so you can come over then."

She then turned to me, "Or alternatively Denholm could stay over at our
house if he can manage a way to get here."

"I'm sure we can sort something out." I concurred.

We then said our goodbyes and the twins hugged Denholm, and then
surprisingly they hugged me before getting into their mum's car and heading
off the driveway.

Myself and Denholm stood for a few moments glancing at the gate where their
car had just left, I stood next to him and put my arm around his shoulder,
allowing him to lean his head against me.

"Come on, we'd better get changed." I said, before turning around and
walking back into the house, still holding onto his shoulder.

We both changed and made ourselves presentable for a funeral. I helped him
with his tie to do a proper Windsor knot rather than the weird flimsy one
they were taught to do for school. I was glad his suit fit him, and he
seemed happy with it too, so we went into the kitchen to make coffee before
we were ready to leave.

As expected the taxi turned up at 9:00, so I followed Denholm outside
before locking up after me. As we took our seats in the car, I put a
reassuring hand onto Denholms lap after telling the driver the address. The
journey wasn't too long, about a half hour drive, but Denholm was silent
the whole way there. I thought about making conversation but I didn't think
it would do much help so I decided to leave him be.

We pulled up at the church that it was being held at. There must have been
a place for people to gather before this, as they all arrived together and
already in full conversation. It seemed this part of the service wasn't
offered to Denholm, which I thought was cruel, despite the fact he wouldn't
have wanted to go anyway.

As soon as Denholm saw people start to arrive, he did something unexpected;
he grabbed my hand. I looked at him momentarily, only to notice he was too
distracted to notice me looking at him, and instead began to walk inside
before the crowd of them could reach us.  Initially he tried to pull me to
the far back row of the church, but I insisted that he had every right to
be at the front and I wasn't going to let anyone make him feel unwelcome at
his own mothers funeral. I walked him to the front row and sat next to him
on the inside left of the aisle.  He began to look around, anxious that
people were looking at him, so I quietly whispered to him, "seriously,
ignore them. This isn't about them."  He seemed to calm down, so I told him
he should look through the leaflet we were handed with the list of hymns
and also the speakers that were listed on the back. I was disgusted that
they hadn't allowed Denholm to say anything, so I asked if he wanted to and
that I could arrange for him to do so but he declined, most likely because
he didn't want to speak in front of a crowd that hated him. I understood
this so decided not to pursue the matter further.

About ten minutes passed before the room was still and quiet. I wasn't
expecting a lot of people, and I was right as roughly twenty others filled
the room, interestingly all deciding to sit on the right hand side of the
room. Perhaps this was to make a point to Denholm that they weren't on his
side, how pathetic can grown adults be? and to a child?

Nevertheless, the service went on, and throughout the various hymns and
prayers, Denholm stayed composed and together, until people began with the
speeches. The whole feel of the funeral turned immensely fake once this
started, as family members began to talk of a person that was completely
unrepresentative of the woman that had been described to be by
Denholm. They stood there with either fake tears or inappropriate smiles as
they talked about her. They also made little remarks about having to cope
with the death of her child and how she lost everything after that. This
must have destroyed Denholm, but he kept it together, probably in protest
that he wouldn't let them win. I was proud of him for this.

Finally an old gentleman stood up; the last speech of the service and the
mood drastically changed to a sincere and heartfelt one, rather than the
fake and eccentric one that the others had been using for attention in
their grievance. I later found out that this was Denholms great
grandfather, who'd made the long journey from London to be here for
this. He looked to be at least eighty, and struggled to stand for the
entirety of his speech before a younger woman assisted him with his walking
stick.

"We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we
imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never
occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that
death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain
and which has every hour filled in advance. Rachel was young, and again a
reminder that death cannot be forecast and postponed to a later date where
we are old and fragile, much like myself." He smiled.  "Rachel, we used to
call her our daughter. She was a daughter, granddaughter, friend, and a
warrior in and out that was defiant in letting evil overcome her and her
two sons.

Unfortunately this evil has taken two victims in many of our lives. Of
course Rachel and also one of her sons, Christopher.

Today, my heart and condolences go out not only to her friends that are
here, but also to her son, and my great grandson Denholm who is here
today. You are a brave, brave boy to go through this, and I know that your
mum will be so, so proud of you. "

This inevitably didn't go down well with the right side of the room, but I
didn't care, and was happy that someone had the heart to consider Denholm,
and not use the death of a woman to their own advantage. This was also the
point that Denholm began to tear up, as he sniffed and wiped his eyes with
the cloth of his suit. Again, I reached my arm around him and held him to
my side, as he leaned in against me. I smiled appreciatively at his
grandfather as he looked over before he slowly headed down the steps,
allowing the vicar to continue the service. A few more minutes passed
before the coffin was lifted and taken outside to the churchyard where the
gravestone had been set, which read 'Rachel Rogerson. Loving mother, sister
and friend.'

At least this included Denholm, although I suspected they'd put 'mother'
out of respect for the memory of Chris, but hopefully Denholm wouldn't
think that.

I remained close to him throughout the lowering of the coffin, almost
protecting him from the gazes of everyone else there. This didn't last as
long and when the coffin was in the ground and a few people had the chance
to throw dirt and flowers onto the casket, they left, probably to get drunk
at one of their houses, which, of course we weren't invited to; what a
shame.

The vicar eventually came up to us as we remained standing there alone, and
offered his condolences to Denholm before telling us we could stay for a
while longer if we wanted.

Finally, we were alone, and Denholm spoke up for the first time since we'd
been there.

"It doesn't seem, real, yet. Like, I've been to a few funerals but I just
don't think I can believe that it's actually my mum in there. It just feels
like a big nightmare."

"I know. When my mum left me I refused to believe it for ages. But in a
while you'll come to accept it, and it won't hurt as much as it does now, I
promise."

"Do you still miss her?"

"Sometimes, but I try to focus on the better things in my life, it's not
all bad just because I don't have a mum."

He let this comment sink in, and a few minutes passed before he spoke up
again.

"Is is wrong that I'd rather live my life now, rather than the one I had
before she died? I don't have to live with all of those people, my dad
doesn't hit me anymore, my mum can't be hurt anymore, and.. I have you
now."

"Of course it's not wrong. And that's a nice way to look at it. In a way
I'm glad this happened too, otherwise I wouldn't have met you either."

"We've basically traded a mum for a brother haven't we?" He smiled.

I smiled back, happy that he was seeing the positive side of things, before
I suggested we headed back to the church and wait for the taxi to take us
back home.



J.S