Storms - 26. Daniel

It was almost ten o’clock by the time John and Amanda from social services, and Griffiths took me home to pick up my things. I packed random items of clothing into a bin bag, grabbed my charger, my laptop, and my Firefly box set, and declared myself ready to go. I didn’t speak to Mum. Amanda stayed behind to chat with her, and John and Griffiths took me to Griffiths’s house. On the way, I texted Michael.

On my way to Mr. Griffiths’s house. Staying with him. Everything’s okay.

Good, came the reply. Glad you’re okay. Take care of yourself! x

Griffiths’s home was a small red-brick house, but when I stepped inside I found that it was fashionably decorated, all in whites and creams and pale blues. The floors were hardwood. Griffiths showed me in with a smile.

Out from the front room stepped a tall, very dark skinned man with his hair in thin dreadlocks he had pulled back into a thick ponytail. He kissed Griffiths on the cheek and then shook my hand. ‘You must be Daniel.’ His voice was calm and deep, and his smile kind. ‘I’m Lewis, Stephen’s husband.’

John closed the door behind him and stepped forward to shake Lewis’s hand as well. ‘John Pearce. Pleasure to meet you.’

‘And you,’ Lewis replied.

From behind Lewis, a shaggy dog of moderate size padded up to me, tail wagging.

‘This is Pepper,’ said Stephen fondly. ‘She’s an Australian Shepherd, and she’s very friendly and calm.’

I crouched down and let her sniff my hand. She gave it a sniff and a lick, and I ran my fingers through her soft blue merle fur. She wagged her tail more vigorously and sniffed my face. ‘Good girl,’ I told her and she gave my cheek a lick.

‘I have some paperwork I need you two to sign,’ said John, lifting his briefcase.

‘All right. Lewis, why don’t you show John into the kitchen and start looking them over, and I’ll show Daniel his room.’ Griffiths put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Come on, it’s upstairs. Come, Pepper!’

Pepper and I followed him. There were three doors upstairs. One was open, and I saw that it led into a bathroom. Griffiths opened one of the other two and showed me in, flicking the light switch.

The room was larger than the one at my mum’s, though not very big, and the walls were painted a calming greenish ocean blue. It reminded me of Michael’s eyes, and that made me smile. There was a bed, with a dark blue bedspread, a closet against the opposite wall, and a desk by the window. A colourful painting hung above the bed, abstract splotches of rainbow colours. It was a nice painting. Pepper sat down next to the desk, looking up at me with wide, blue eyes.

‘What do you think?’ asked Mr. Griffiths, and glancing at him I thought he looked almost nervous, as though my approval was really important to him.

‘It’s really nice,’ I said. ‘Thank you, Mr. Griffiths.’

He gave a soft laugh. ‘I think maybe if you’re going to live here you ought to call me Stephen. Mr. Griffiths might get confusing, anyway, as Lewis is also, technically, Mr. Griffiths.’

I smiled and looked down at my feet. ‘Thank you, Stephen.’

He laid his hand on my shoulder again and smiled at me. ‘You get settled in, all right? I’ll just be downstairs. Feel free to come down when you’re ready. I’m sure you’re hungry, so we’ll have a bite to eat before bed.’ He clapped my shoulder once, then left.

I looked around the room. My room, at least for now. It really was nice. There was a lamp on the desk, as well as a mug with a few pens and pencils in it. The curtains were dark blue, matching the bedspread. I placed my laptop on the desk. I emptied the bin bag onto the bed, sorting through the clothes I had grabbed. Several t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, three worn hoodies, about a week’s worth of underpants. I sorted them into the closet and then sat down on the bed. The mattress was just the right side of firm, giving way slightly under my weight. Pepper came over and laid her chin on my knee. I scratched behind her ear and she wagged her tail.

Finding out that Griffiths—Stephen, I amended in my head—had a husband had been a bit of a surprise. A gay PE teacher kind of broke with the stereotypes my mind had constructed, but then Stephen didn’t fit in with those, anyway. My experience with PE teachers before now had been fairly abysmal. My last school had had one who was the very picture of toxic machismo, in appearance as well as behaviour. Not that Stephen wasn’t masculine, because he was. He was well built and athletic. But there the similarities ended, as he had turned out to be singularly gentle and kind. Where my old PE teacher had tried to motivate me through fear, Stephen had simply asked me to do the best I could, and I performed much better with him.

Lewis seemed nice. He was slimmer than Stephen, a bit taller, and perhaps a tad more feminine in his features. I found myself looking forward to getting to know him.

I got up and padded down the stairs with Pepper in tow. Stephen, Lewis, and John were sat in the kitchen, around the dining table. There seemed to be a lot of stuff to sign, and I leaned up against the counter island, waiting for them to finish. Lewis acknowledged my presence with a smile.

‘There, this is the last one,’ said John. ‘And, all done. Thank you.’ He replaced all the papers in his briefcase and stood up. ‘We’ll be in touch again tomorrow, see how you’re getting on.’ He shook Stephen’s hand, and then Lewis’s, before turning to me. ‘Goodnight, Daniel. We’ll talk again soon.’ He shook my hand as well, and then Stephen walked him out.

‘You hungry, Daniel?’ asked Lewis. ‘We’ve got some Shepherd’s Pie we could heat up. Do you like Shepherd’s Pie?’

I nodded. ‘Sure. Thank you.’

‘Have a seat.’

I did, and he went to the fridge, taking out a covered baking dish. He spooned a healthy portion out onto a plate and put it in the microwave. Then he filled a glass of water and set it down in front of me, before taking a seat next to me.

‘Stephen’s told me a bit about you. You’ve had a rough time of it, haven’t you?’

I took a sip of water and nodded.

‘Well,’ he continued, ‘I want to help in any way I can. Stephen and I are both here for you, okay?’

I nodded again. ‘I . . . I really appreciate this. You taking me in, I mean.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ said Lewis with a wide smile. ‘It’s our pleasure.’

I had another sip of water, for want of anything else to do or say. Then I asked, ‘So, what do you do?’

‘Oh, I’m a graphic designer.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ I looked around the kitchen. There were several framed prints on the walls. ‘You’ve got a lot of nice art. I like the one in my—in the bedroom.’

‘It is your bedroom,’ said Lewis. ‘For as long as you need it to be. And I’m glad you like the painting. It’s one of mine. I . . . dabble. It’s a hobby, I suppose.’ He looked mildly embarrassed.

‘You really painted that? It’s so pretty!’

Lewis looked surprised but happy. Just then, Stephen returned to the kitchen. ‘There you have it, Lewis. From the mouths of babes. Well, teenagers. I’ve told you, you’re a fantastic painter.’ He bent down and kissed Lewis’s cheek. It looked so natural. I wanted to be like that with Michael.

Lewis tilted his head back and kissed Stephen on the lips instead. ‘Mm. You hungry, love?’

‘Famished,’ Stephen admitted.

‘Shepherd’s Pie?’

‘God, yes please.’ Stephen sat down with a grin, while Lewis stood and filled another plate with pie.

The microwave beeped, and he took my plate out, got a fork out of a drawer, and set it down before me. ‘There you go. Eat up!’

I picked up the fork and listened to them make small talk while I ate. Lewis talked about his day, the client who had tried to haggle on his price after he had made them a sample. Stephen talked about the new boots he’d been looking to buy. I ate slowly, feeling drowsy and warm now that I was sitting here, in Stephen and Lewis’s safe, comfortable kitchen. I think I might have nearly dozed off when I heard Lewis say, ‘Best get that one to bed, eh?’

‘Hm?’ I opened my eyes and looked down at my half-finished food. ‘Sorry, I didn’t finish . . . I’m full, though.’

‘No worries,’ said Stephen. ‘Time you get some sleep, I think. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.’

I got ready for bed, looking in the mirror while I brushed my teeth in the upstairs bathroom. I had only been there for an hour, but already I felt safe. Welcome. Comfortable. Was this what a real family was like? Lewis could have easily been my dad. He looked a bit older than Stephen. Mid-thirties, maybe.

I knew my mind was running away from me and tried to bring myself back to the reality of my situation. This was temporary. I had no idea what would happen after this. Would they make me go live with my grandparents? They lived in a completely different part of the country. Where exactly was Dudley, anyway? I couldn’t stand the thought of that, of having to leave now that I had friends, and a boyfriend, and a life, albeit still a pretty shitty one. I would a thousand times rather stay here, in this house. This could be my home.

When I stepped out, Stephen was waiting on the landing. ‘Hey. Listen, we were thinking maybe you’d like to stay home tomorrow. You’ve had a pretty rough day, after all. Lewis works from home, so you wouldn’t have to be by yourself.’

I considered this for a moment. Then I shook my head. ‘I want to see my friends.’

‘All right, then we’ll drive to school together in the morning.’ He smiled. ‘Come on, let’s get you into bed.’

He walked me into my room. Lewis appeared in the doorway as well. I got into bed, and they both smiled at me. ‘Goodnight, Daniel,’ said Lewis, and Stephen echoed him.

‘G’night,’ I said, and then they left, pulling the door shut. ‘Wait!’ I said, and Stephen turned back to look at me. ‘Could . . . Could you leave the door open? Just a little?’

‘Of course,’ he said, and he left the door slightly ajar, so a sliver of light from the landing shone in.

The bed was comfortable, and I lay there, listening to Stephen and Lewis’s soft murmurs. The door to the bathroom closed. The shower ran. Quiet laughter, footsteps on the stair and the landing. The pitter patter of Pepper’s paws on the hardwood floor. These were the sounds of a living, breathing home. This was a safe place. As safe as Michael’s bedroom, though I missed his warm embrace. Michael. I should text him goodnight. A moment later he replied, Night, Danny. Sweet dreams! xoxo

I had thought it would be difficult to fall asleep in an unfamiliar place, but exhaustion soon took me. It didn’t last, though, and a couple of hours later I awoke, drenched in sweat, feeling sick and panicked. I stumbled out of bed and ran for the bathroom, the now all too familiar bile rising in my throat as I dropped to my knees before the toilet and retched.

They must have heard me because soon Lewis came into the bathroom. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, squatting down next to me. ‘You all right, kiddo? Are you ill?’

I shook my head. ‘Nightmare,’ I croaked. ‘Sorry . . .’ I sobbed, and Lewis put his arms around me, hugging me to his chest.

‘It’s okay. Shh, it’s all right.’ Lewis’s deep voice was soothing. It felt so nice to be held like this. Comforting. Safe.

We sat like that for a while, and then Stephen appeared in the doorway, Pepper at his side. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, stifling a yawn.

‘Daniel had a nightmare,’ said Lewis.

‘Oh.’ Stephen stepped inside. He came over to the toilet, closed the lid and flushed, before sitting down on it. He reached out and stroked my hair, saying nothing.

When I had calmed down, they both let go of me and Lewis searched my face. ‘Do you have a lot of nightmares?’

I shrugged one shoulder. ‘Sometimes.’

‘And do they all give you panic attacks?’

I blinked. Was that what this was? A panic attack? I had thought it before, even voiced it, but hearing someone else call it that, it was like it became real. ‘I . . . most of them.’

‘This happened in Albert’s office today as well,’ said Stephen with a frown. ‘Are you always sick when they happen?’

I shook my head. ‘Not always. Sometimes. The really bad ones.’

Stephen stood and pulled me to my feet. ‘Come on. Brush your teeth.’ He and Lewis stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door while I cleaned myself up. I could hear them talking out on the landing, some of their words making it through the closed door.

‘If he has such a strong physical reaction . . .’

‘. . . there must be a lot of trauma.’

‘Perhaps his stepfather isn’t the worst of it.’

‘Even if he isn’t . . . If I ever get my hands on that fucking—’

‘Stephen!’ A sigh. ‘You’re not wrong, though.’

I thought I ought to feel offended that they were talking about me behind my back like this, but I didn’t. On the contrary, it made me feel strangely happy. It meant that they cared.

When I came out again, they both walked me into my room. Lewis helped me into bed and tucked me in. It made me feel like such a child, but it felt good to be fussed over. ‘Can we get you anything?’ he asked. ‘Anything you need?’

I hesitated. I didn’t want to trouble them, just like I didn’t want to trouble Michael. But they were asking. They had taken me in. They wanted to help me. ‘I . . . I don’t want to be alone.’

‘Then we’ll stay here until you fall asleep,’ said Stephen, sitting down at the edge of my bed.

‘No,’ said Lewis. ‘You go to bed, Stephen. You have to get up in the morning. I can sleep in if I need to. You need to be awake and alert for your students.’

Stephen sighed, running his fingers through his hair. ‘Fine,’ he grumbled. He stood and kissed Lewis. ‘Goodnight, love. Try to get some sleep, Daniel.’

I nodded. ‘Yes, sir,’ I said automatically, and realised a second later how weird that sounded, now that he was Stephen rather than Mr. Griffiths. I realised I was going to have to compartmentalise a bit to tell Stephen at home apart from Mr. Griffiths at school.

He chuckled softly. ‘Old habits die hard, I suppose.’ He left the room.

I wanted to ask if Pepper could stay as well, maybe sleep at the end of my bed, but she was already following Stephen out of the room. Clearly, she was primarily his dog.

Lewis pulled the desk chair up to the bed and sat in it. He brushed a hand through my curls. ‘We should get this cut, shouldn’t we?’

‘Been meaning to,’ I mumbled. ‘Just haven’t . . .’ I trailed off, blinking sleepily. His touch felt good, safe. Like a real parent.

‘Could just grow it out, too. Bet it would look nice. We can talk about it tomorrow,’ Lewis promised, and I got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about the hair. ‘You try to sleep, all right? I’m right here.’ He continued to stroke my hair, and soon I drifted off to sleep.