The Cardmaker and the Caretaker - 20. Chapter 20 Close cousins

 

We finally get to meet Fiona.

In loving memory of skinnydragon   

Tuesday morning was a lot more relaxed; they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before Patrick went to his shop around ten. He had asked Peter if he wanted him to stay, but they decided it would be better for Michael to have the full focus of his dad and have only Danish spoken for a while, before he had to deal with a mainly English environment at the hospital.

In addition, Patrick needed the distraction of work to take his mind of the meeting with Fiona as well as Michael’s impending surgery. Luckily, he had several well-known customers come by during the lunch hour, not only asking about cards but also his new limited shop hours. Apparently, they had noticed his updated web site, and in particular the announcement from the previous day about the shop being closed for at least a week from Thursday onwards. All of them congratulated him when he said his future spouse and adoptive son required more of his attention, and he managed to avoid the private topic of Michael’s illness. There was also a trickle of new customers, but most of them just browsed.

He did have one interesting customer, a guy who wanted to buy a card for his boss. This was a new challenge.

“Is your boss a man or a woman?”

“A man. He’s actually not my immediate supervisor, but the boss two levels up from me.”

“I see. How well do you know him? I’m thinking of things like favourite colour or interests.”

“Fairly well. The girls in the department gossip about him all the time.”

“And you think their talk is accurate enough to go on?”

“Well, most of it is pretty easy to confirm. He often wears blue, which is his favourite colour. He likes horse riding, and his brother is a steeple chase jockey, so he attends the races fairly often. I know he played polo when he was at university. There’s a photo of him with the team in his office.”

“Fair enough. Now for the most important question. What would you like to express with your card?” Patrick already had a good guess, but he wasn’t sure the guy, who seemed to be in his late twenties, was ready to admit it. If he was, he should probably have been visiting the shop before Valentine’s Day.

“Well, the thing is he’s about ten years older than me and a real gentleman. A little old-fashioned you know? We all admire him for being polite as well as kind, even though he doesn’t tolerate slackers. He can get quite scary when he goes all cold and disapproving, but if you work hard and do your best, he rewards your efforts with praise, a raise in pay, or by advancing your career.”

“Sounds like a great guy.”

“Yeah, he is. I admire him a lot and I would like to tell him so.” There was a pause and a small sparkle appeared in the brown eyes of the dark-haired man sitting across from Patrick. “I think…I think he may admire me too, but in a different way. But he would never tell me, because inter-office liaisons are frowned upon. Especially between bosses and employees. They happen of course, but if it gets serious, one party usually tries to find another job.”

“Ah, that makes sense. So tell me, would you like to encourage his admiration or warn him you don’t feel the same? The first option is the easiest, but I’m sure I can devise something to achieve the second one too.”

“Encourage, definitely encourage,” the answer came more promptly than expected, but there was still a hesitation or hint of something being held back.

“Excellent. The next step is to tell me more about yourself and your boss so I can devise a card. We also need to work out the text inside the card.”

“I need to ask about the price first, so I’m sure I can afford it. There’s no guarantee it will work, is there?”

“No, there isn’t, but I won’t accept the order of a card if I don’t think I can deliver. He will definitely learn of your admiration and interest, but whether he acts on it, I can’t predict.”

“Fair enough, so can I get an estimate of the cost?”

Patrick named his usual price and his customer winced but nodded reluctantly. The cardmaker made a decision. “Tell you what; I’ll make you a deal. You can pay me half now and the other half when you get results. And you’ll have to send me a wedding photo if you get married eventually.”

“I like the trust you have in your ability and in me. We have a deal.”

They shook hands and Patrick prompted his customer with several questions, which were answered with increasing frankness and spots of joking and shared laughter. Finally, the cardmaker summed up the situation.

“You want a card which makes him aware how much you admire and desire him. Tells him you’re prepared to change your job if necessary and won’t take no for an answer. You won’t let him hide behind his age, his caution, or his ‘exalted’ position.” They grinned at each other when Patrick mimed the quote marks with his fingers. “On the other hand, you’d prefer it if he pursued you, asked you out and staked his claim. You’re simply giving him carte blanche to hunt you down.”

“Yes, that’s pretty much it. Think you can deliver?”

“I have a few ideas already. How soon do you want the card?”

“His birthday is two weeks from now. He’ll hit the dreaded 4-0 mile stone, and it’s the perfect occasion to show him he’s attractive and far from over the hill. I’ve always liked my men older and mature, and he’s hotter than Clooney in my opinion.”

“No problem. Let me write down your contact details and I’ll get in touch when the card is ready or if I need more input.”

They parted in mutual good understanding, and even though the matter hadn’t come up directly, Patrick was fairly certain he’d outed himself to the guy. He certainly hadn’t tried to hide his appreciation of the concept of hot males. He spent some time writing notes and listing the various ideas for the card in between dealing with a couple of random customers.

John arrived at half past four, and they settled down with tea and biscuits.

“How’s Michael?”

“He’s fine. The hospital let him come home until Wednesday afternoon, and the surgeon is optimistic about the outcome on Thursday.”

“That’s wonderful. We could see Peter was anxious, even if he stayed calm when talking about him.”

“Yes, I don’t want to think about him falling apart, if the worst happens.”

“So let’s talk about something else. Your cousin should be here soon, right?” When Patrick nodded John went on. “You told me a bit about her mother, your terrible aunt, but is there anything else I should know?”

Patrick hesitated; he didn’t want to bring up the teen pregnancy, since he only knew about it from eaves dropping on his parents. “At my parents’ funeral she mentioned something about them helping her ten years ago. I don’t know what they did, but that’s why I’m hoping she’ll be kindly disposed towards me. If possible, she may help me get in touch with those members of my dad’s family who are worth knowing.”

“And she was asking your solicitor for contact details? How did she know him?”

“He’s her solicitor too, but I don’t know for what, of course. Mr. Wickham would never betray client confidentiality.”

“Mr. Wickham was your parents’ solicitor, right? You inherited him along with the money.” John showed he had paid attention the other night, when Patrick had mentioned this briefly. He decided to elaborate.

“It’s a bit complicated, but for some reason my dad was the executor of his grandfather’s trust fund. All great-grandchildren got a lump sum of money when they turned twenty-one. Mr. Wickham takes care of all the paper work, so I’m not involved, even if I am officially in charge. Apparently, my great-grandfather stipulated the oldest son of my father would take over if he died before all the legacies were paid out.”

“So the trust fund money helped you set up your card shop? And your aunts and uncles objected to you taking over from your dad?”

“Yes, they took it to court, but the money for the shop came from my mother’s side of the family when I turned 25. I also inherited the monthly stipend my mother had, and her brother contested that.”

John’s mouth fell open. “Are you saying both sides of your family tried to contest your inheritance rights after your parents died?” Patrick swallowed and nodded. “Fucking hell, Patrick, I don’t blame you for cutting them out of your life.”

“In addition, the whole ugly fight got into the media, and I had to retreat into hiding for a couple of months. But I probably would have done this in any case, to deal with the loss of my mum and dad. Anyway, now I want to see if it’s worth letting my cousins in. Fiona first and perhaps anyone she can vouch for.”

“Fair enough and what would you like me to do?”

“I’m going to name drop ‘your husband Tony’ as early as possible in the conversation. I’d like you to tell Fiona how you met me. If her reaction is positive, or even neutral, I’ll out myself. After that, I’ll play it by ear.”

“OK, I can do that.” They drank some more tea, and Patrick got up and paced for a while. John looked at one of the tablets with sample cards and made appreciative noises a couple of times. He seemed to realize his friend wasn’t up for casual conversation.

At ten to five, the door to the shop opened to admit a tall, good-looking woman in a classic dark blue suit. Her brown hair was half hidden by a beautiful silk scarf lightly draped over what looked like an elaborate hair-do. Huge brown eyes immediately sought out Patrick, and a stunning smile transformed her face into someone truly beautiful.

“Patrick. I’m so happy to see you again.” There was no hesitation, no awkward moment; she simply put her briefcase on the counter, strode over with confidence and embraced him. For a split second he feared he would start sobbing, but then Fiona’s joy at finally being able to get to know him washed over his mind like a tsunami. Instead he started laughing, but quickly brought himself under control.

“Fiona, I presume. And I’m delighted to finally meet my cousin properly. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

She didn’t try to pretend ignorance of his meaning. “Neither of us was at our best the first time we met, and the circumstances could hardly be worse. But you look even more transformed than me. I can’t tell you how pleased I am if life is finally treating you right.”

Fiona pulled back and looked him up and down. Her sharp eyes immediately caught the ring on his left hand. “Oh! Now I know why you’re glowing. You got married recently, didn’t you? Oh wow!”

Before he could say anything, sputtering noises from the couch made both of them look over. John’s face was almost as red as his hair as he desperately tried to suppress his giggles. When Patrick started laughing again, John gave up and collapsed on the couch. “Glowing…I told you…he warned you…sorry…totally glowing.” Bursts of giggles punctuated his broken sentences, and Patrick shook his head at his mirthful friend.

“Uhm, is this your…” Fiona paused and looked at the hand John extended with a denying motion.

“No, this irrepressible redhead is one of my good friends, and if his husband was here right now, he’d probably spank him for being impolite. But Peter did warn me about this confusion. I’m engaged to a Dane, and they do the rings differently. We’ll switch them over to our right hands when we get married next year.”

Because Fiona’s arm was still clasped around his waist Patrick could sense her honest pleasure at the news. Nor had the mention of John’s husband elicited even the slightest withdrawal. She gave a small chuckle and shook her head in unconscious imitation of her cousin.

“Is this why he’s laughing?”

John finally got himself under control. “Sorry about that. No, it’s because the first time I saw Patrick after he met Peter, I said the same thing. He was totally glowing with love and happiness. And today he was using me as a way to test your opinion before he told you about Peter and Michael. Neither of us thought about his ring, so the joke’s on us.”

Fiona’s delighted laugh rang through the shop and the two men joined her. She turned to Patrick and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations with the engagement. Who is Michael?”

John jumped up and rushed over to the work table where he grabbed a few photos of the two Danes in the cardmaker’s life. He gave them to Patrick who held them out for her to see. “Michael is Peter’s seven-year-old son. He’s going to have heart surgery at Great Ormond on Thursday. That’s why they’re over here. I would never have met Peter otherwise.”

‘Yes you would.’ ‘Shut up, Imp.’ ‘Aww Angie, he can’t hear us.’ ‘Don’t call…’ The two faint voices faded away, and Patrick shook his head, not even sure he’d actually heard anything.

His cousin was exclaiming over the handsome Dane and his adorable son, and of course he agreed with her completely. He was also relieved Fiona didn’t ask any questions about how Peter came to have a son if he was going to marry a guy. But she did enjoy the story of how they met on Valentine’s Day as well as John’s story about the double card order.

Around six Tony turned up and was introduced to Fiona. “You and Patrick look very much alike, you could be brother and sister,” the dark-haired lawyer remarked, and John nodded.

“Yes, I told them the same thing. Oh, and wait till I tell you what happened when Fiona arrived.” The contagious laugh almost set Patrick off again, but instead he shared a smile with his cousin. They said goodbye to the two men, and he locked the door to the shop after them.

“Would you like another cup of tea?”

“No thanks, I’m OK. I’ve been in meetings most of the day, so I’ve had plenty of tea and coffee. Speaking of which, do you have a bathroom here?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry for not thinking about that. It’s this way.” He showed her to the private rooms at the back of the shop, basically a bathroom, a tiny kitchen and a spare room with a safe.

When Fiona came back, she had let her hair down and taken off her suit jacket. “Ugh, I hate having to dress up for those quarterly meetings with school sponsors, but it’s necessary to impress them.”

“Your hair looks nice when it’s up, but I prefer the loose ponytail,” Patrick told her. “Is that how you wear it at school?”

“No, I put it up there too, but in a French plait which is practical as well as sufficiently stern. With my age and gender I need to dress in a more conservative style than I prefer, so as to command respect from my peers.”

“What about the pupils?”

“Oh no, I’ve never had any problems with discipline. After all, I can channel strict, serious and disapproving parent like crazy.”

“Ha, yes, I guess you can. Now, should we leave for Victoria, or do you want me to show you the shop?”

“I’d love to be shown around, and to be honest I’m not very hungry. I can grab a quick sandwich to eat on the way home.”

Patrick was pleased with Fiona’s decision and proceeded to show and tell about his card making and art work. She was genuinely interested and recognized a couple of her uncle’s designs when they looked at the catalogues.

“I’ve kept all the birthday cards he and your mum sent me, and I appreciated him sending me my own Christmas card, since Mother threw the family one away as soon as the holiday was over. She liked to display it to impress visitors, who always noticed the superior artwork, but….” She shrugged rather than end the sentence.

He sat down on the chair across from her and sighed. “Fiona, I feel bad about not getting in touch with you before now.”

She held up a hand in warning. “We’re not going to wallow in guilt and might-have-beens. I could feel bad about not searching harder for you, and about not doing more to oppose all the crap the family put you through.”

“I thought teachers and headmistresses weren’t allowed to swear,” he joked, and they shared another laugh.

“No, seriously, I agree. We should look forward from now on, and I can already tell we’re going to be good friends,” Patrick told her. Why pretend he had doubts about her honest intentions? He knew she genuinely cared about him, and he felt the same about her. This was the older sister he would have liked to have, even if they would probably have teased each other and had stubborn arguments.

“Wonderful, I could use a nice cousin in my life.”

“Ah, that’s one of the things I want to ask you. Are any of my other cousins worth knowing?”

Fiona shrugged. “Forget about my brothers, and I wouldn’t bother with William’s two boys, either. But Aunt Mary’s children may be OK. She seems to have become more sensible after her husband died – or at least my mother has been grumbling about her sister lately. That’s usually a good sign.”

“Mary is the youngest sister, right? What are her children called?”

“Yes, Mum’s the oldest, then your dad, Uncle Will and Mary. Her children are Laurence and Jennifer. I don’t know either of them very well. Jenny is almost ten years younger than me, and Laurence has been in the military since he was eighteen. I think he’s due to leave just before summer, at the end of his contract.”

“How old is he?”

“I think he’s twenty-four or twenty-five. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. He tends to stay away from any family gatherings. Another promising omen in my book and I know he was furious about the way the older generation treated you at the funeral – and afterwards too.”

“Yeah?” Patrick tried to recall a young man who would have been around twenty at the time, but his mind was blank. He’d suppressed most of the awful memories and only Fiona’s warm hug stood clear and bright.

“He told me a couple of years later when he was home on leave over Christmas. Hmmm, what did he say exactly?” She pondered for a few moments. “Oh yes. ‘I wanted to punch those hypocritical bastards for the way they treated poor Patrick. He’d just lost his parents, for fuck’s sake, and all they cared about was the money. Disgusting.’ I think that was about it, and I completely agree.”

“I would gladly have given every penny to have my mum and dad back.”

“Of course you would. Love beats money hands down. That’s why I’m delighted to hear about Peter and his son. You have your own family now.”

“Yes I do. Peter’s aunt is staying with us. She’s a retired nurse and such a nice, motherly woman. I think you’ll like her. Once Michael has recovered from surgery, you should visit. Right now he needs to be shielded from any risk of infection.”

“Of course, and schools are hotbeds of colds and chickenpox. Luckily, we don’t have an outbreak right now, and I haven’t had a cold since November. Touch wood.” She tapped the table in front of her and grinned at him.

“In any case I’ll take a shower and change my clothes before I see Michael, although he may be in bed by the time I’m home. Speaking of which, what time does your train depart from Victoria? I think we should leave here at least twenty minutes before.”

“In that case we should go about half an hour from now. Why don’t you tell me more about the friends I met here? They were nice guys even if John laughed at us.”

“I can’t tell you a lot, because we’ve only become friends recently. They live in Notting Hill and have been a couple for five years. Anthony is a lawyer, and family law is one of his areas of interest. John has a teaching degree, but he added another degree and is a social worker now. I think he works with abused children, but I’m not sure. How did you get into teaching? Do you enjoy it?”

Fiona spent some time telling about her career as teacher and how she ended up as deputy headmistress at the school in Kent. She casually mentioned being too busy to date, and Patrick got the impression she had no intention of letting family obligations derail the fulfilment she got from teaching. She shrugged again as she admitted this was a source of conflict with her parents.

“Mother keeps nagging about what she terms my lack of success in finding a husband and providing her with grandchildren. I’ve come very close to telling her I wouldn’t want to inflict a grandmother like her on innocent children, but it would be unfair and not true. She’s actually OK with small children who need responsibility and reliability. Problems only began when we got older and independent. She wants to stay in control and has a hard time accepting new ideas or different opinions.”

“How does your father feel?”

“Oh, he goes along with her ideas. That way he can have a peaceful home life and she lets him pursue his hobbies when he’s not at work. But he would like to have some grandchildren. Hopefully, my brothers will deliver.”

“I never considered the possibility of children, but I’ve come to love Michael as a son. In fact, I’m going to adopt him, which is what Peter wants too. Perhaps we’ll try to find him a younger brother or sister later.”

“I’m very happy for you, and I can’t wait to meet your new family. It’s a wonderful bonus on top of finally getting to know the son of my nicest uncle and aunt.”

“I’m grateful you came to see me so quickly. Let’s stay in touch by phone and email. When Michael is well and your schedule is less busy, I hope you’ll visit us at home.”

“Patrick dear, I’m just as grateful you contacted me. I’ll get in touch with Jenny and Laurie soon. If I like them and trust them, I’ll let you know. Maybe you can meet them at my place and see for yourself. I have the feeling you’re a good judge of character.”

She was definitely right about that, but he wasn’t going to tell her why. The secret of his empathy would only be shared with Peter. Patrick had sent him a couple of text messages during the evening, to let him know all was well. As he and Fiona parted ways in the Tube station to get on different lines he sent a final one. ‘On my way home.’ Twenty-five minutes later he walked in the front door where he was met by a warm hug from Peter.

“Michael is asleep, and Grethe is with him. Do you need anything to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Let’s go upstairs, and you can tell me everything.”

“I’ll take a quick shower and join you in bed.”

“Mmm, sounds promising,” Peter muttered and squeezed Patrick’s butt.

“You’re not too tired?”

“To make love to you? Never.”

“In that case my shower may take a bit longer.”

“Fair enough.”

He walked upstairs while Peter locked the door and turned off the lights.