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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Contains mature content

The Cockney Canuck - 130. Chapter 130 Happy Holidays

“You should’ve said something, Robbie. How am I to know if you don’t tell me?” Sue circled the kitchen, but her eyes stayed on me the whole time.

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“I know you're telling the truth, honey. I don’t think even you would invent a story like that.” She sat down opposite me and reached across the table to hold my hand. “I just wish you could have told me sooner, it wasn’t nice having to hear it from the police.”

I pulled my hand away and stood up, shaking my head. I knew why she was embarrassed; it didn’t exactly look good on her parental resume. Maybe in future, she would think twice before offering a home to a teenage delinquent, but I was growing weary of talking about it.

As far as I was concerned, it was over. I didn’t want to discuss Alex anymore or even think about him. There was nothing I could do to change what happened, but I could stop it from affecting my future. It seemed pretty obvious to me.

“I don’t know why the police had to get involved anyway. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s the law honey, it’s there to protect you.”

“Ha! That’s a joke. They tricked me into telling them what happened and then accused me of lying. I never wanted to press charges anyway. The whole thing is a waste of time. I was okay until they got involved. All they’re doing is making things worse.”

“He’s embarrassed, Mom,” said Nicola. “Why don’t you just drop it? He’s more comfortable talking to me.”

I rolled my eyes, but she was right. I found it much easier talking to my sister than my adopted mother or the police for that matter. I had already vowed not to co-operate with them anymore.

“If the police want to know anything else, then I’ll tell them I was lying. I made the whole thing up to give them something to do. It was just a joke.”

Sue looked alarmed. “Please don’t say that,” she said, but there was enough concern in her voice to make me think seriously about it if only to throw a spanner in the works. She had taken the whole thing quite badly; shouldering most of the blame. “I should have insisted on them moving Alex out sooner. You told me you didn’t want him here anymore, but I didn’t listen to you.”

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” said Nicola.

“I put my children in danger. It was my fault, dear.”

“Actually, it was my fault,” I said. “I led him on and teased him. It was a game that backfired. But no one else was in danger.”

“The social services shouldn’t have allowed him to stay here in the first place,” said Nicola. “There wasn’t enough room, and they knew Alex was a potential risk. It’s their fault.”

I suppose we were all partly to blame, but it was easy to be critical with hindsight.

To her credit, Sue never doubted my story, a stance, which once again put her in direct conflict with Don. His statement to the police implied I was the aggressor and had been intimidating Alex. Anyone who knew Alex would have found that laughable and utterly ridiculous.

Don’s absence during what Sue described as a family crisis was noticeable. Three days in and he was already failing to live up to his promises. Sue didn’t need me to remind her of how much of a joke her husband was, but I was sure she could read my expression when I asked her where he was.

“I don’t know, dear, but he agrees with me that this matter should stay within our immediate family. There’s no need for anyone else to know what happened, and the police aren’t allowed to disclose anything.”

Jo had already explained to me about the young offender’s act, although I wasn’t sure how it worked. The police weren’t allowed to reveal the names of those involved in the investigation, even though they were reluctant to admit that a crime had been committed.

“I think at the moment they’re more concerned with finding Luke and Alex,” said Sue. “I hope those poor boys are okay. It does seem odd that no one’s seen them.”

Not to me, it didn’t. The fact they disappeared without leaving a trail convinced me they were safe and hiding somewhere, probably at a friend’s house. If this were the case, then it wouldn’t be long before they were found. Alex was a survivor and shrewd enough to evade the law, but a difficult person to have around the house, especially with Luke. It was only a matter of time before they overstayed their welcome.

*     *     *

Wednesday was the final day of school before the holidays, and the day initially set aside for the ill-feted, second performance of the Nathan’s Peter Pan. The posters were still up, but the show had been cancelled, and the auditorium was empty and locked when I strolled past it to meet Jo. There were no after school classes on the last day, so other than the cleaners we had the building to ourselves. It was an experience which I found unsettling. I didn’t like being the only student left in the school and was hoping Jo would show some Christmas spirit and pack up early.

There was little chance of that happening. As far as she was concerned, the holidays were an unnecessary distraction, and I wondered if she had any family of her own. This woman knew everything about me, even my deepest secrets. I couldn’t even jerk off without her knowing about it, yet it was almost impossible to get her to reveal even the slightest details about herself.

Our sessions would generally begin with an update on my situation at home, but with Don on his best behaviour, the focus switched to my own misdemeanours at the weekend with Stephanie.

“So, do you think you're bi-sexual now?”

“No, it was a mistake. It was the Viagra.”

“Bullshit. It gives you an erection, it doesn’t change your sexual orientation, but hey, you got your rocks off. Which must have made you feel better. There’s nothing wrong, providing you weren’t cheating on anyone, and you used some kind of protection.”

She must have known I failed on both counts.

“Protection?”

“You did use something, right?”

“Stephanie isn’t the type to sleep around.”

“I’m not talking about STD’s, Robbie. She’s a girl, did you ask her about contraception?” She rolled her eyes at me. “I didn’t think so. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you're not mature enough to be a father. If it happens again, please be more responsible. What about Conner?”

“I don’t think he’s gonna get pregnant,” I chuckled.

“I know that. Stop being annoying. I thought you were gonna see him at Christmas.”

“I am.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that you cheated on him?”

“He cheated on me first. I think he’s still seeing his ex-boyfriend in Saskatchewan.”

“Does he have a magic carpet?”

“No, but he has broadband.”

“Oh, I see.”

“He even admitted it.”

“Okay, so this episode with Stephanie makes a little more sense now.”

“I’m not sure if it’s even wrong, but I think it’s been going on for a while, probably since he moved here.”

“It’s still cheating, Robbie, even if they’re not actually in the same place. You're gonna have to sit down and talk about it with him. Is this why you decided to sleep with your sister’s friend. To get back at him?”

“No. I don’t think so. I don’t know why it happened, but it wasn’t to do with Conner.”

“Well, at least you're honest. I respect that. You realise I was giving you a way out, don’t you? Most people would have jumped at the opportunity.” She smiled at me as she chewed the end of her pen.

“I’m not like most people.”

I enjoyed playing these games with Jo, and sometimes I surprised her, but she was always the master.

“Evidently not, but I doubt if you're going to be as honest with Conner when you explain to him what happened, are you? There’s a chance he’ll forgive you if you're willing to do the same.”

Like everything Jo said, it made a lot of sense, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. It felt like this was already my last chance after letting him down so many times in the past. Oddly though, my relationship with Conner wasn’t particularly high on my list of priorities.

I had agreed to have sex with him—something I hadn’t done with a boy in nearly four months—but I wasn’t thinking about him all the time like I was when I was getting to know Nathan.

Conner had already called me several times that week trying to offer an explanation and even used Rory as a go-between to make sure I was okay. I didn’t want to talk about it, but it was more because of my own guilt than any anger towards the boy who was supposed to be my boyfriend. I actually wasn’t all that bothered about Conner’s online jerking escapades and found it difficult to chastise him for it. Especially when I was still getting off to a homemade video of Nathan.

There was still ten minutes remaining of our session, but the clock looked as if it had stopped. Jo was fishing around in her bag, so I stood up and pulled on my sweater to leave.

“Sorry, sweetie. One more thing to do.”

She waved a sheet of paper in the air, and I groaned.

‘Another assessment. The same old pointless questions’.

“What are all these stupid assessments for anyway?”

“It’s just to keep the people at the top happy. A way of justifying the budget and their enormous salaries. Makes them look like their doing something. It’s like a food chain.”

“And I’m at the bottom.”

“That’s right, and you're the only one who isn’t making any money out of it, which kinda sucks because, without you, we’re all out of a job.”

“You're the one who does all the work though. It’s not fair that other people should take credit for what you do.”

“That’s how the world works, honey, get used to it. So have you had any more thoughts about hurting yourself?”

“No,” I said listlessly. “Maybe one day you’ll get promoted, then you can get paid more and do less like they do.”

“I wouldn’t want their jobs, and I’m not in it for the money.”

“Then why do you do it? It can’t be easy.”

“I get rewarded in other ways. Are you sleeping okay?”

I understood what she meant, but was that enough to justify the number of hours she spent working with difficult, messed up kids? It sounded like a poor return to me.

“I’m sleeping fine. But I still don’t know how you do it.”

“It sounds corny, but helping people can be addictive. I get a buzz from watching kids like you figure it out, and turn their lives around. It’s a nice thing to be a part of, and they never forget you. I have a lot of friends, who think I’m super-cool when really I’m just a nerd dressed like a biker.”

She made me laugh. “I don’t think so. I think you're cool.”

“There you go, I’ve already got you eating outta my hand, and I’m not even finished with you yet.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends what it is.”

“Has anyone ever, you know? Have you ever had anyone who you couldn’t help?” It was a difficult question, and maybe I had no right to ask her, but it was something I often thought about. How does she cope with failure, when someone she’s helping takes their own life?

She took a while to answer. “Yes, I’m not perfect.” Her face dropped as she addressed a subject she clearly wasn’t comfortable with, but my inquisitive nature wanted more.

“That must be pretty shitty.”

She flashed me a brief smile, perhaps humoured by my terminology, before sitting on the desk to face me. “It’s not easy. Something like that stays with you forever.”

“But it’s not your fault. You can’t stop them.”

“No, I can’t, but there are always things that you think you could have done that might have made a difference. It’s a terrible feeling because it means you failed to do your job. They tell you not to become attached, but that’s bullshit. You can’t distance yourself and then expect that person to trust you. Of course, you're gonna become attached. The only thing you can do is learn from it, and hope it doesn’t happen again, but you know it will.”

Her tough exterior couldn’t hide the emotion in Jo’s voice. She rarely allowed her to guard to drop, and I regretted asking her. She stood up and walked around the room. It was a while before I could think of anything to say.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She glared at me as her guard snapped back into place.

“You didn’t upset me, kid. And you're not here to question me either. That’s my job.” She mumbled to herself as she searched through her bag and attempted to compose herself, but I kept my eyes on her the whole time. “Why are you looking at me?”

“You told me it’s okay to show emotion, but you're embarrassed to do it yourself.”

“I also told you, I’m never embarrassed.” She came back and sat down opposite me to work on the assessment. “Is it okay if we finish this?”

I shrugged. “You were embarrassed, just then. I saw you.”

She put her clipboard down and stared at me. I’m sure it would have scared a lot of grown-ups, let alone kids, but it was moments like these when she most reminded me of my mom.

I kept eye contact, refusing even to blink as she blew a bubble with her gum.

“You're right,” she said before ripping the form from her clipboard and tearing it in half. “These assessments are a waste of time. If they wanna know how you're doing, they can call me.” She stood up and grabbed her coat.

“Is that it; can we go now?”

“Think of it as a Christmas present, because that’s all you're getting from me.”

It wasn’t true, though. She had already given me more than anyone else, and she must have known it.

We would be back at the school for another session the following week while everyone else was on holiday, but until then, I would have to manage on my own. As she drove me home, I could see her glancing across at me and smiling to herself.

“What’s so funny?”

“I like you, kid.” She turned to face me as we stopped at the traffic lights. “You annoy the hell outta me, but you can be funny too. I’m glad you decided to stick around. It would have been a waste if you had topped yourself.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“That’s a compliment, by the way, and I don’t usually give them out easily.”

“I know that,” I giggled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Not again.”

“Do you have a family?”

“Yes.”

I was hoping for a little more detail. “Like a partner or kids?”

“I don’t have kids,” she said. “I work with them all day; I don’t need my own. Besides, I don’t have time to be a mother.” She kept her eyes on the road as she turned into our street.

“But you have a partner?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I only asked. You know everything about me. It’s only fair.”

“Nothing in this world is fair, Robbie. Remember that.” She pulled up outside my house and then checked her hair in the vanity mirror while she waited for me to get out. “What’s the matter; have I got the wrong house or something?”

“Aren’t you gonna wish me a Happy Christmas?”

“What? Hell no, I don’t buy into that crap.”

I shrugged my shoulders and opened the door. “Well, I hope you and your partner enjoy the holidays anyway.”

She grabbed my collar and pulled me back into my seat.

“Okay, you win. Merry Christmas. Are you happy now, or do you want me to climb down your fucking chimney in a red suit?”

“That would be funny. Don would shit himself.”

“Yuk. That I do not wanna see.”

I waved goodbye to Jo and chuckled to myself as I walked up the driveway.

‘Maybe she is human after all’.

It was the first time I had seen any chinks in her armour, but I was pleased to know she wasn’t going to be on her own over the break.

*     *     *

Christmas eve started bright and sunny, and I was up early with a hectic schedule to work through. In the morning, Daniel and I took the bus downtown to meet up with Rory and his girlfriend Rebecca for some last-minute shopping. There were a few things I needed to get, and Conner’s sister proved to be a valuable asset when it came to buying a gift for a boyfriend I hardly knew.

While Rebecca was busy in Sears choosing my present for her brother, Rory took me outside for a little chat.

“Conner’s worried that you're not gonna go tomorrow. He thinks you're angry with him.”

“I wouldn’t be buying him a gift if I was angry with him, would I?”

“You're not. Rebecca’s doing it for you.”

“By proxy, Rory. Have you never heard of delegation?”

“He told me why you were angry with him.”

I was surprised and suddenly a lot more interested in what Rory had to say.

“What did he tell you?”

“He told me what he was doing with Derrick on Skype. I don’t blame you for being angry, but it was a mistake.”

“A mistake? You mean he called the wrong number, or maybe he forgot that they split up six months ago?”

“I guess you are angry then.”

“Look, Rory, I don’t even know for certain what they were doing. I’m guessing this Derrick guy is his ex-boyfriend.”

He nodded. “They were jerking off, I thought you knew that.”

“I do now. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Wait a minute. He said he confessed to you. Why else would you be angry at him?”

“Okay, I sort of knew, although he didn’t actually come out and say it to me.”

“You're such a hypocrite.”

“Why.”

“Because you're making Conner feel bad when you're doing exactly the same thing to him.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“I’ve seen you flirting with Nathan. What’s that about. Isn’t he your ex-boyfriend or doesn’t he count?”

He was right, of course. I was flirting with Nathan, and I was thinking of him more than Conner, even wanking over his video. I was embarrassed, just thinking about it.

“I’ll always like Nathan. I can’t help it, but we don’t do that kinda stuff.”

“You don’t need to. You live in the same town.”

“What are you saying, Rory. That I’m fucking Nathan?”

“It’s really not that unbelievable,” he said.

“Does Conner think that?”

“I don’t know what he thinks, but he’s a good guy. He made a mistake, and he’s sorry. I think he’s scared you're gonna go back with Nathan because of what he did.”

“Conner moved here six months ago. Do you think that’s the first time they hooked up on Skype?”

“Probably not.”

“I don’t think so either. So it was more than just a mistake, wasn’t it? Look, I’m not bothered okay. It’s not like we were a couple or anything. If you must know; I’m not going back to Nathan. I don’t even know if he would want me back. If Conner wants to be my boyfriend, then we can start tomorrow, and anything that happened before doesn’t matter. But he needs to knock Derrick on the head.”

Rory looked confused. “He needs what?”

“It’s a figure of speech, Rory. He doesn’t have to literally hit him. Unless he wants to that is.”

“Derrick’s a nice guy.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve talked to him on Skype.”

“You too! What was it, some kind of three-way conference wank?”

“No, we weren’t doing that. Anyway, Conner’s told Derrick they can’t talk anymore. He likes you, Robbie. Give him a chance. You won't be disappointed; he’s got a lot to offer.”

“I bet he has.” I smiled, wickedly at him.

“That’s not what I meant, shit for brains.” Rory laughed with me as Rebecca came outside to join us.

“Having fun, boys? Well, I’ve found the perfect gift for Conner,” she said.

“Cool, how much is it?” I reached into my pocket to grab some cash as we followed her into the store.

“Don’t you wanna know what it is first?” added Rebecca.

“No, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

She looked confused. “For him, it’s a surprise, not for you.”

“It would be better if it were a surprise for both of us, don’t you think? That way, no one’s disappointed.”

“What?”

Rory laughed at his girlfriend. “Don’t listen to him. He’s being a dick.”

“Wow, that doesn’t happen very often.” Daniel put his arm around me and smiled.

“Funny how you always show up when someone says the word dick,” I said. “I’m beginning to wonder about you.”

Daniel was in a playful mood, taking turns at annoying everyone, but he also had his uses. I needed his help choosing a game. A present for a special friend of mine.

In the afternoon, with my shopping complete, I ditched my friends and jumped on a bus to the other side of town. There was someone I wanted to visit who I hadn’t seen for a while. Earlier, I called his mom to make sure it was okay, and she kept my visit a surprise. He was upstairs in his room watching TV when I knocked on his door.

“Who is it?”

“Santa Claus, who do you think?”

The door flew open, and an excited Jamie dragged me inside. He was still in his pyjamas, and his room was a mess.

“My mom’s been trying to get me to clean up for a week.”

“Why don’t you? Isn’t it nicer when it’s tidy?”

“No one sees it anyway. I’m the only one who comes in here.”

I sat on his bed and coughed. “Ahem, what about me? Don’t I count?”

“It’s not fair, you didn’t warn me you were coming over. It’s cool you're here, though.”

“Well, I had to see you today.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed to give you this. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to wrap it up.” I reached into my bag and handed him the game I bought earlier. The latest FIFA soccer game set me back sixty dollars, and I had to talk his mom into allowing me to buy it for him, but it was money well spent.

I often heard people talk about the joy of giving, but I never really understood what it meant. That day, I got to experience it first-hand, and it blew away. Jamie’s reaction had me fighting back the tears, which I was desperate to avoid. It was the happiest I had ever seen him, and he gave me the biggest hug his frail body could manage, before hurriedly setting up his PlayStation.

His mom made us dinner, and I ate with Jamie in his room in between endless games of soccer. He was always Arsenal, and he won all but one game, which I was convinced he threw because he felt sorry for me.

It was hard to imagine how someone cheated of so much in life, could find time to feel sorry for anyone other than himself, and I found this attribute the most difficult to comprehend. It clashed deeply with my own inherent desire for sympathy and made me feel uncomfortable.

It was something else I learned from this highly-addictive kid, who I now regarded as a close friend. I suspected most people wouldn’t understand, but there was a lot more to our friendship than me merely feeling sorry for him, although that obviously played a big part.

I genuinely enjoyed his company. He was fun to be around with an opinion on everything, and a pragmatic approach to the world around him that belied his tender age. It was also impossible not to get carried away by his enthusiasm, especially when it came to anything soccer related.

“They’re showing the Arsenal game on Sportsnet in the week,” he said. “Will you come over and watch it with me?”

“Only if you tidy up in here first.” I picked up a pair of his briefs from the floor and threw them at him. “Yuk! Dirty undercrackers need to go in the washing basket.”

He threw them back along with several other items of discarded clothing, starting a mini clothes fight, but it was too much for him. He got overexcited and seemed to choke on his own laughter, which triggered a coughing fit. I offered to fetch him a glass of water, but as I reached the door, he was struggling to breathe and started wheezing. I panicked and shouted for his mom, who came running up the stairs.

Jamie was okay, but he scared the life out of me, and my heart was pounding as his mom hooked him up to his oxygen. It was my fault. I needed to understand his limits. He couldn’t do the same things that healthy kids could do. At times, he disguised his illness so well, it was easy to forget how fragile he was.

He was still wearing his oxygen mask when it was time for me to go, but he took it off when I gave him a hug and wished him Merry Christmas. I left him still engrossed in his new game and promised to return in the week to watch the soccer.

At the front door, his mom tried to make me feel better. “It’s not your fault; he gets carried away sometimes. It often looks a lot worse than it is.”

“It scared me.”

“When you visit next, if you want, I’ll show you what to do if he gets into trouble. I can demonstrate. It’s very simple.”

“I would like that.” It made me feel important; like I was of some use and less like the panicked idiot, I was earlier.

“Good, Jamie would like that too,” she said. “He likes it when people take an interest in his illness, rather than trying to ignore it.” I got that impression too. Jamie wasn’t the type to shy away from his ailments. “You really made his day. Thank you.”

Hearing those words made my day too and gave me a much-needed boost of confidence. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of me, I was a hero to Jamie, and able to make a big difference to his life.

Whenever I left his house, I walked away a better person with my head held high, and that day it felt as if I was on stilts.

I walked all the way home, trudging through the snow on a cold but busy Christmas eve thinking mostly about my sick friend. Something he said gave me an idea, which quickly turned into a plan, and soon it was all I could think about. At first, it seemed crazy, but the more I mulled it over, the more I convinced myself I could make it happen.

It was dark by the time I got home, and the house was busy. Don was in the living room, entertaining a couple of his work colleagues. Daniel was in the basement watching movies with Doug and Amy, and Sue was in the kitchen with Nicola and Stephanie preparing the food for tomorrow.

My sister’s friend gave me a warm smile as I walked past her to get myself a drink from the fridge. She was a regular visitor to the house, but this was the first time I had seen her there since our secret liaison. I could see Nicola watching me from across the kitchen as I said hello to Stephanie, before cornering Sue.

“Can I go to England?”

My question came out of the blue and caught her by surprise. She was pulling something nasty out of the rear end of a giant turkey, but still managed to make it look like I was the one who was acting weird.

“Why?”

“I want to take Jamie to a football match.”

“You mean, Jamie the sick boy?”

“Yes, my friend, Jamie.” I could hear Nicola behind me giggling at my preposterous idea, and Sue was quick to point out the obvious, reasons why she thought it wouldn’t work.

“It’s very noble of you, dear, but Jamie can’t travel on his own, and you won't be able to look after him.”

“I know, but his mom will. They’ll allow him if she goes too.”

“Well, maybe, but you can’t just jet off around the world. I’m sure there are football games here you could take him to.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s the best you can do, I’m afraid. You can’t go all the way to England to watch a game of football.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s silly that’s why, and you can’t take any more time off school.”

“I’ll go during the spring break.”

“No, it’ll cost too much money.”

“How much?”

“I don’t know, a lot. And where would you stay? You can’t all stay at Tom’s house.”

“A hotel, I suppose. They have some of them in London.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back to England just yet, dear.”

“I’ll come back. You won't get rid of me that easy.”

“But you're not completely well, yourself, what if you fell ill over there.”

“They have doctors too, you know. I’m not going to outer Mongolia.”

“I won't allow you to go on your own, Robbie. I’m sorry.”

“Fine, I’ll ask someone to go with me then.”

“I’ll go,” said Stephanie. “I can look after you.”

Nicola’s face was a picture. “I’m sure you can, Steph. But I think he’ll be better off with his sister. I’ll go with you, Robbie.”

“He’s not going anywhere!” said Sue. “And I don’t want to hear any more about it.” She shook her head before inserting her hand back in the turkey. It looked gross, and I pulled a face, which amused Stephanie.

Despite Sue’s initial reaction, I sat down at the counter undeterred. I was confident I could persuade her to change her mind.

“It’ll only be for a few days.”

Nicola cringed, and Sue glared at me as I slowly backed away to the stairs. I knew I could push her much further than that. There was no way they were going to ground me on Christmas eve.

*     *     *

It was eleven o’clock in the UK and Tom was still awake and in a good mood when I called him on Skype. I could see why when he raised an illicit can of beer to the camera.

“I sneaked it upstairs,” he said with a cheeky smile. “You look nice.”

He wasn’t usually big on compliments, but I was quick to accept even though my appearance was still a little windswept.

“Thanks, you look good too.”

“Stop being so gay,” he said. “Do you wanna see my new room. We just decorated.” Tom picked up his laptop and gave me a quick tour of the ceiling. “What do you think?”

“I dunno I can’t see anything. Your holding it upside down.”

When he finally came back into view, his face filled the screen. “Oh, and I got a new bed,” he said, and this time he got it right turning the laptop to face the new piece of furniture. “Someone broke my old one,” he said, laughing.

It was most unlike him to reference our past adventures, but I welcomed his newfound openness, even it was alcohol-induced.

“Look, Tom, I gotta plan. I wanna come over to England in March, during the spring break.”

“Are you serious?” Tom took off, throwing his arms in the air and celebrating like he just scored the winning goal in the cup final. It reminded me of when he was a kid. “When are you getting here?”

“Slow down, mate. It’s not for certain yet. I only just thought of it today. There’s a lot of planning to do, but there’s no reason why I can’t do it. I got the money.”

“I know you have, so spend some of it on me, you tight bastard.”

“I’m gonna need you to do me a favour. When I find out what week it is, I want you to get tickets to an Arsenal game, I wanna take Jamie to a football match.”

He thought it was a crazy idea too, especially when I explained about my proposed entourage.

“You're gonna pay for four people to come over here for a few days, just to watch a game you could probably see over there on TV for nothing?”

“What else am I supposed to do with the money? Plus, I get to hang out with you again.”

It was a mistake to talk like that, and poor Tom started to get a little emotional. “That would be good. I missed you a lot, you know.”

“Me too, Tom.”

“It was worse this time. Coming back on my own.”

“I know; it’s a killer, isn’t it?”

I was desperate to keep the conversation cheerful and was fortunate to be rescued by Daniel, who must have heard us talking and came in to say hello. My brother was bubbling over with seasonal joy, and some of it seemed to rub off on Tom.

When Daniel left, Tom was smiling. “It’s nice that you finally get to have your own family at Christmas. I’m happy for you, Robbie.”

Only Tom knew how much that meant to me, and I was glad he mentioned it. He was right, of course, it did feel nice. Especially compared to the heartbreak and uncertainty of the year before, and my lonely experiences as a kid. The terrible jealousy that accompanied every visit to Tom’s family filled house over Christmas was still way too easy to recall. Like an open wound that refused to heal.

“I hated this time of year when I was younger. I envied you so much, because you had a big family, and there were always loads of people there and lots going on.”

“It’s still like that now,” he said.

“I used to spend most of the holidays sitting on my own in my room.”

“I know. I’m pleased it worked out for you, Robbie. Even though it cost me my best mate.”

Speaking to Tom on Skype was always an emotional experience, and that particular call took a lot out of me. Fueled by another can of beer, he rambled on for another hour talking mostly about the past, but it was all good. He even took his laptop with him into the bathroom, where he spoke to me while he was having a pee. Then I watched him as he casually undressed and gave me a quick flash of an old friend, before throwing on a pair of shorts, and jumping into bed to keep warm.

“You can get into bed with me if you like?” he said, covering himself and his laptop with his duvet and using the torch on his phone to illuminate his face. I doubt if he realised how sexy he looked as he whispered to me, shirtless in the semi-darkness, but I kept those thoughts to myself.

“I’m gonna have to go, dinner will be soon.”

“Good,” he said. “Cos I wanna have a wank.”

I laughed and wished him a Merry Christmas, before leaving him to attend to his business. I wondered if he had a girlfriend, but maybe that answered my question.

Afterwards, I sat on my own for a while thinking about Tom and Jamie, and how I was going to get to England. I was sure I had enough money left in my account to cover all the expenses, but I wondered if they would allow me to use some of my trust funds if it was for a good cause.

‘I don’t even know for certain how much is in there’.

There were only twenty-one months to go before I turned eighteen and I could access the money. Now that I was going to stick around, as Jo put it. I decided it was time to take more of an interest in my future. I no longer like the idea of Don handling my money.

If you enjoyed this chapter, then please take the time to leave a comment below and follow the story. Members are invited to discuss the story and characters with others, and there is a discussion on the forum via the link below.

http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/42134-the-cockney-canuck-by-dodger/

In the next chapter, Robbie gets more than his stocking filled when he visits Conner’s farm on Christmas Day!

Copyright © 2017 Dodger; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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