The Cardmaker and the Caretaker - 18. Chapter 18 Neighbourly behaviour

As Patrick had wished, the whole afternoon was pure family comfort. Grethe said Mr. Archibald was going to his daughter’s place for Sunday lunch, so they had parted ways outside. They spent time playing various board games before eating the roast she had prepared, and then Peter and Patrick cleared away the dishes while Michael and Moster took a nap. When they woke, Michael showed Patrick how to play Candy Crush on his tablet, while Peter had a talk with Grethe in the kitchen. Patrick wondered whether he was going to tell her about Marianne’s faux pas with Michael, and how she would feel about her sister’s behaviour.

Around seven they had a light meal and then Michael was allowed to watch a movie until he fell asleep. The boy hadn’t mentioned a sleeping preference, so Peter carried him into the bed in Moster’s room. Grethe got out the Danish biscuits she had baked the day before, while Patrick made tea. When they were seated around the kitchen table, he finally brought up the matter of Grethe’s comment about their neighbour.

“Moster, why did you say the woman next door is crazy?”

“Well, I meant she was mad in both ways, crazy and angry. I’ve seen her a couple of times this week, but she more or less ignored me, so I didn’t try to talk to her. But I simply thought she was…what’s the word? Stuck-up and generally unfriendly.” She shrugged to indicate her lack of interest in associating with people like that. Patrick wasn’t surprised Peter’s kind but perceptive aunt would catch the negative vibe from their neighbour and keep her distance.

“Arthur suggested going to St. Ann’s Church where his wife Betsy is buried. It’s too far away to walk with his bad hip, but apparently a woman five houses from here goes there as well and has offered to take him whenever he wants. He’s a member of Church of Scotland, but he has to go into the city for that, so he mostly goes to the local church a few times a year. Anyway, I wanted to see what the Anglican Gudstjeneste is like, so we went with Fay, that’s the woman up the road.”

“Gudstjeneste, that’s the Danish word for church service or worship,” Peter explained when she paused to drink some tea and urge them to sample her baking. Patrick quickly decided he was addicted to the wafer-thin crunchy ones tasting of orange.

“The service was nice and after we went outside, I wanted to take a few pictures of the church while Arthur and Fay talked to people they know.” She paused to dig out her smartphone which was one of the fancier models.

“I used to do a lot of photography when I was younger. After we had kids, my husband gave me a video camera. Nowadays, I use this of course.”

Peter chuckled. “Oh, I remember you running around after me and Kim and filming us. You’ve done some great shots of Michael too. And Alice did her first poses in front of your camera.”

“Kim gave me this when he went abroad, and taught me how to upload clips so he could see them. Sometimes I’ve let the camera run while doing things around the house, and I talk about my week, but most of the time I video the family, a modelling event with Alice, or Michael. Kim loves his godson and says he feels more in touch than if it’s only photos and Skype talks. I hope you’ll let me make some footage of you with Peter and Michael?”

“Of course, and I look forward to seeing those old movies with Peter, but what does this have to do with the woman next door?” Patrick felt quite confused.

“Well, because I already had my phone out and I’m familiar with the video function, I immediately switched it on when I came back to Arthur and realized that woman was saying crazy nonsense about you and Peter. I wanted evidence in case it got bad enough you could sue her or something. But the important part is Arthur’s response. Listen to this.”

Grethe was positively gloating as she started the video and laid the phone on the table in front of them. They caught the last part of their female neighbour saying, “It’s a disgrace and what about the poor little boy who lives with them? Innocent children shouldn’t be exposed to these perversions.”

The camera swung round to capture Mr. Archibald as he began speaking.

“Thank ye for telling us this, Mrs. Hawthorne. Now lemme say summat. Ye’re an evil wench spreading such malicious slander about the kindest bonnie lad I’ve ever met. Ye ought to be ashamed of yerself!” He lifted his cane and shook the carved handle at the two persons in front of him. Patrick had never heard his neighbour speak with so strong a Scottish accent or look so agitated.

“Same for ye, Mr. Hawthorne, for letting yer wummin talk puir nonsense. Are ye a man or a mouse? Na wife nor daughter o’ mine wuld have git away wi’ such caterwauling, for sure.” He turned slightly to address people around them. “But they ha’ better sense an’ kinder hearts than yon harpy, an’ me poor dead Betsy mon be shuddering in her grave to hear such evil lies spoken in her kirk. I hope all of ye will reject them with scorn.”

Loud cheering erupted from some of the church-goers around the old man, and the camera zoomed out to catch the sight of people moving away from one set of Patrick’s neighbours and collecting around the other. At first the picture was rather shaky as if the person holding the phone was jostled, but then it steadied to show most members of the congregation standing around Mr. Archibald and only a few disgruntled persons leaving with the Hawthornes. Grethe reached out to switch off the video.

“The commotion made the vicar come outside. He stood by the door saying good bye as we left, but he had gone back inside the church. The poor man was almost overwhelmed with people wanting to tell him what had happened. Fay and I managed to rescue Arthur and we went past Betsy’s grave for a quick peek before going home.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” Patrick was equally stunned by being accused and defended so vehemently by his neighbours. Mrs. Hawthorne had indeed looked spitting mad as she left, and he hoped she wouldn’t take her anger out on the courageous Mr. Archibald. Maybe he should offer to buy the Hawthornes’ house, to get rid of them? But they probably wouldn’t want to sell to him, and if he was lucky they might decide to relocate by themselves after the debacle in the church.

“Fanden tage alle forbandet snæversynede, hjerteløse, nævenyttige kvindfolk, som stikker deres næse i alt og spreder ondsindet sladder og modbydelige rygter for at fremme deres egne gammeldags, stupide meninger.”[1] Peter appeared so upset he had to express his feelings in Danish, but then he suddenly grinned and switched into English.

“Never mind her, Mr. Archibald was the hero of today, and we should toast Moster’s gentleman friend for his staunch defence of love and proper human behaviour.”

“As long as you don’t say my gentleman caller,” Grethe replied with a wink.

“No, not yet,” her nephew teased, making her cheeks go a little pink. Patrick decided to rescue her, even though he was pleased the tension had been reduced with this exchange.

“What did Fay think? By the way, is she a thirty-something brunette with a kind face and tired eyes? I think she works at the pharmacy in the Sainsbury’s north of here.”

Grethe nodded. “Yes, that’s her; she told me when she found out about me being a nurse. She was livid, but not too surprised. Apparently, Ms. Thorn-in-the-side has a reputation as a righteous busybody. Fay said her husband Brian came up with the nickname, after Mrs. Hawthorne lectured him about their three sons racing their bikes down the road and making ‘an unholy racket’ on a Sunday morning.”

Patrick could easily imagine Fay rolling her eyes as she said this. The incident was probably one which had taken place six months after the Hawthornes had moved in.

“Those boys can certainly be loud, but they’re harmless. I think I know the situation she’s thinking of. A few days later Mr. Archibald told me the three of them had found a bag of half-drowned kittens down by the river, and they were bringing them home. The youngest was very upset, but they were all yelling.”

“I’m not surprised, what a terrible discovery! How old were the boys? And were they and kittens OK?” Moster asked with the motherly concern Patrick was beginning to expect from her.

“Umm, I’m not sure about their ages. Maybe the oldest was fourteen and the youngest nine? At least six of the kittens were OK, because some weeks later the boys went around with them in a box and tried to get people to adopt one.”

Patrick had been one of the first persons asked, but he was forced to decline due to his long shop hours. He had told the boys he would pay the vet’s bill for check-ups, shots and neutering, because the kittens would probably be easier to find new homes for if they didn’t cost their owner money immediately. He had phoned the closest clinic straight away and made out a check to them for the estimated amount, promising to pay for necessary extra treatments if they found any problems. As far as he knew the boys had gone straight there with the kittens, and the last he heard about it was a small Thank you note pushed through the mail slot on his front door. He now suspected Fay had made the boys write it and was impressed with her tact. But perhaps Mr. Archibald had told her Patrick preferred to be left alone?

“I hope they avoided the prickly couple next door,” Grethe joked. “Fay made a clever observation about that woman, when we discussed her on the way home. She said: ‘People like that are never happy running only their own lives – though for most of them, you could probably just end the sentence after ‘happy.’ Arthur and I agreed completely.”

They all laughed heartily over Fay’s assessment and from there the talk went on to other topics. Of course the plans for the coming week were discussed. Michael had to be in the hospital by ten on Monday morning, so they decided to take a cab around nine. They would avoid most of the rush hour that way, and Patrick could walk to the shop. Peter and Grethe would stay with Michael and take him home whenever they were done with tests and talks with the doctors.

While Peter and Grethe lost themselves in medical details, Patrick got out his laptop to check his email. He had done this a few times during the day, partly in relation to any customers wanting to get in touch and partly to see whether Fiona had answered. At one point Peter had advised him to get a new phone which would let him check his email, and Patrick had added it to his to-do list for the next day. It also included finding someone do cleaning from now on, renting a hospital bed, calling his solicitor, and making a list of topics to discuss with Anthony, including how to adopt Michael either before or after he married Peter.

As he logged on to his email another task was added, because at the top was a reply from Fiona with the topic ‘Meet for a talk Tuesday?’ Taking a deep breath Patrick opened it.

Dear Patrick
How wonderful to hear from you. I’m delighted you want to meet me, and I happen to be in London on Tuesday. Unfortunately, my next two weekends are booked solid, and I cannot take any weekdays off at the moment. If Tuesday is a possibility, I could be at your shop any time after five o’clock. I have to catch a train from Victoria no later than nine-thirty, but I hope a couple of hours will be enough for us to get acquainted. I’ve always been sad about not knowing my Uncle Charlie’s wife and son.
Best regards
Fiona

Deciding to just go for it, he wrote a quick reply.

Dear Fiona
Tuesday would suit me fine, and you’re welcome in the shop whenever you want. There might be a friend with me for the first hour. If things go well, we could perhaps eat a meal together while we talk. I can find a restaurant near Victoria, so you don’t have to worry about catching your train.
Best regards
Patrick

Afterwards he wrote to John and told him about the meeting. ‘If you have time to be with me from five to seven, I would be grateful. By then I should know one way or another whether I can trust my cousin.’ Of course, Patrick couldn’t tell John why exactly he would be certain about Fiona after such a short time. In any case the main purpose of John’s presence would be to casually drop hints about his husband and observe Fiona’s reaction.

When Peter and Grethe reached the end of their medical talk, Patrick caught his fiancé’s attention, and Peter came down to his end of the table. Grethe got up too, but for a different reason.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to bed. I was up early, and we have a long day tomorrow.” She did look tired, and Patrick reminded himself she was sixty-five even though she was spry.

“Of course, Moster. Sleep well.” Peter moved over to hug her, and Patrick stood up to be ready when she turned to him afterwards.

“Thank you for another lovely meal and a nice family Sunday. I’m so glad you’re here.” He stepped closer and initiated the hug they both wanted.

“You’re welcome, my dear boy. So am I.”

Once she had left, the two men wasted no time tidying the kitchen. Before going upstairs, Patrick showed Peter the email from Fiona.

“As you can see my cousin is going to drop by the shop on Tuesday evening, so I’ll probably be home late.”

“That’s wonderful. Would you like me to pick you up after she’s left?” Peter asked, and Patrick was aware of the unspoken offer of support, in case the meeting was a disappointment.

“If things are fine, we may go out for a meal near Victoria station before she catches her train home. If John is able to be there, and the meeting goes really well, I might text you and ask you to join us, provided Michael is OK. Would that be all right? It’s the only opportunity we’ll have for the next couple of weeks.”

“Of course it is. I’ll give you an update once we get back from the hospital. Actually, Tuesday is probably the least stressful day of this week, and I could use the distraction before we get the final decision on Wednesday. Will you be able to take Thursday off?”

“Of course, love. I can take the whole week off if you need me to be there for you.”

“No, just from Thursday onwards. Hopefully, the news will be good, and then Wednesday will be spent getting all the paperwork done for a scheduled surgery. Michael will be admitted Wednesday afternoon to be ready for an early morning operation, and they said I could stay the night with him.”

Patrick hugged him hard. “I’ll close the shop during the weekend and next week too.”

“Yes, please.” They both knew the surgery and the first week were the critical phases. Patrick didn’t want to consider anything going wrong, but even if everything went perfectly, he knew Peter would need his support full-time as they sat by Michael’s bedside.

Upstairs, they took turns in the bathroom, and although they hadn’t discussed it, Patrick made sure he was ready for whatever Peter might want. If it was a cuddle he would happily hold his man all night. But he had the feeling they both needed to be distracted from certain events.

Suddenly two familiar figures popped into his head, and he almost said Welcome back! The imp got his say first, chanting, ‘Yeah man, go get laid, nothing relieves tension like a good fuck.’

Surprisingly, the angel had an almost fond expression as the silver-haired figure smacked the imp on the back of the head. ‘Cherish your love and soulmate in every way, heart, body and soul.’

The imp made a rude gesture with its tail. ‘Especially body, right? Fuck each other silly and be happy.’

The angel nodded with approval. ‘Love each other and be happy for good.’ They both began to fade, and Patrick had the feeling they would soon be gone forever. It almost made him sad.

‘Aww, Angie, what’s the fun in that? Naughty is so much better than good.’

‘Honestly Imp, stop calling…’ With a soft plop the two strange entities were gone, and Patrick was left wondering whether they had been real, or his brain had come up with something even stranger than normal. But at least they agreed about wanting him to be happy. And right now being intimate with his sexy Dane would achieve that goal.

When he entered the bedroom, Peter was already in bed. Patrick closed the door but didn’t lock it. He stripped down to briefs and T-shirt and joined his blond hunk. Funny how quickly sharing a bed had become natural and normal, but he still appreciated being able to cuddle up.

“Do you think Michael will be disappointed when he wakes up downstairs?”

Peter pulled him closer and kissed him. “No, because I think we’ll be up before he wakes. I’ve set my alarm to six-thirty. That should give us time for a run before breakfast.”

“Thanks, how did you know I wanted to go running?”

“You told me you usually run every other day. And I like this trim runner’s body, so I want you to keep it up.”

“Considering the great food Moster makes, I need to run regularly, and I should probably join you in the gym too.”

“Are you saying I’m getting flabby?” Blue eyes twinkled with mock outrage.

“Hmm, let me check….” Patrick sat up and removed Peter’s T-shirt, with the willing cooperation of a grinning Dane. He ran his hands over the muscular pecs, once more admiring the blond curls on his chest and tweaking the nipples gently.

“So far there’s nothing to complain about. Turn over and let me see the rest of you.”

Peter complied and Patrick felt his briefs grow tight as he admired the broad shoulders, strong back and perfect arse. He couldn’t resist but reached out to fondle the twin globes, and his lover immediately pushed up against his hands and spread his legs slightly. This was more than enough invitation and he pulled the black briefs off. By the way they caught a bit in the front before Peter helped them down he knew the Dane was also erect.

Quickly shedding his own clothes, Patrick resumed caressing the sexy body in front of him. There was no objection from his lover when he gently pulled on his butt cheeks to expose the hole he wanted to possess.

“I’m going to fuck you soon, but not tonight.” The small moan and slight clenching of muscles showed him Peter was still on board with the idea. He moved forward to lie on top of him, and they both groaned as his cock settled against the cleft between those taut buttocks. Patrick rocked his body and pressed down. Fuck, that felt good, and Peter seemed to agree judging by his reaction. His face was turned to one side and his eyes were closed, as he licked his lips. He shuddered slightly when Patrick kissed his neck and whispered in his ear.

“I could come like this, you know. Having you under me, all eager and trusting, knowing you want me to pop your cherry. Holding you down and slipping my hard cock into that tight, hot space, hearing you beg for more, making you come, that’s what I’m planning to do. But not yet; you’re not ready, I need to open you up, use my tongue and my fingers, maybe my dildo, to prepare you for my cock.”

They both panted heavily as Patrick fell silent and focused on the exquisite feeling of sliding his aching hard-on back and forth against the soft, warm skin of Peter’s ass. Sweat together with precum leaking from the head of his dick made it easier, but as much as he liked this, there was something he wanted even more.

“I could come like this, but what I really want is to feel you inside me when I cum all over you. I want you to turn over and then I’m gonna ride you. Hard.”

“Oh fuck, Patrick. I’m not going to last.” Peter bucked under him, and Patrick moved to the side to let him up. Grabbing the lube from the drawer he quickly prepared himself while his lover watched with lust-filled eyes. When he reached out to slick up the thick shaft throbbing against taut abs, Peter gasped and clenched his fists on the sheet. “Close, I’m too close.”

Patrick quickly moved his hand down to squeeze hard around the base, wondering if he should bring up the possibility of another sex toy. Deciding it could wait till another day, he wasted no more time, but straddled the desperate man writhing on his bed. Peter wasn’t the only one on edge, but he hoped the burn of entry would help.

But that didn’t happen. Somehow, his hurried preparations now and earlier had made his body more than ready, and when the blunt tip pushed against his entrance the muscles gave way immediately. In one long slow descent Peter’s manhood filled him completely and the pressure on his prostate made his orgasm imminent. At the same time, shocked blue eyes met his and two hands gripped his hips.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Peter cried as he thrust upwards. His movements poked the sensitive spot inside Patrick who only managed two strokes of his dick, before he sprayed cum all over a very surprised Viking. It didn’t stop him from launching several volleys inside Patrick, as both men shouted ‘Yes! Ahhhhhh!’ and various other garbled words.

When they finally became still, there was a long, awed silence while Patrick stared at his cum-spattered lover who gazed back with wide eyes and open mouth. A final twitch of muscles stretched to maximum capacity around a slowly deflating cock made both of them groan. This was followed by a small chuckle from Peter, which initiated a delighted giggle from Patrick. Moments later they were both laughing hysterically, and desperately trying to prevent cum going everywhere on the bedclothes.

“I can’t believe…” Peter tried, but was overcome by laughter.

Grinning hugely, Patrick reached out and traced fingers through the white blobs decorating his chest. “We’re like teens, almost embarrassing, eh?”

“Never – not even my first time at sixteen – have I exploded so fast. You turn me on like crazy.”

“It’s mutual.”

“Yeah, I guess the evidence of that hit me straight in the face just now.”

They both started laughing again, and Patrick felt the last of the tension from the day’s upsetting events with their neighbour and Peter’s mother dissipate. A quick shower later, they were ready to sleep, in T-shirts and underwear and with the door open, just in case.