Date: Thu, 18 Mar 2004 11:38:00 -0000
From: Drew Hunt <drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk>
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.