The day of Stephane's return was also the day that Sarah, David and Susie went on their vacation to Devon. During the week they were away, Mike and Katie stayed with the alternate carers, and in the middle of that week, I got my second-ever phone call from Mike, who sounded quite glum.

"Yeah, Mr and Mrs Spencer are okay," he replied, leaving me with the impression that his current carers were more formal than Sarah and David. "It's a bit boring here, but me and Katie have our bikes, and we go out for rides."

The way he phrased it seemed odd, and I wasn't sure if he meant to ask if I was alone or if I'd keep whatever he said private."

"Well," he said hesitantly, then paused for a few seconds before continuing, "Liam's nice, but he's just a little kid. And I thought Connor might be my friend, but it's been different since the, erm, laptop thing."

Unusually for me, I was completely at a loss for words. Fortunately, he spoke again before my silence became too uncomfortable.

"Anyway, you're adopting them soon, and they won't be around," he said. He gave a resigned sigh and added, "But no one would ever adopt me."

Hearing that made my heart ache, and obviously there was nothing I could say about him being adopted. However, I hoped that I could make him feel better about my brothers leaving.

"Even when Liam and Connor are living with me, we'll come and visit, especially for Sunday lunches. David and Sarah are my friends, and my brothers are their foster family. We're going to be around quite a lot. And I'm sure it won't be long before there are more kids in your house."

"Yeah, but they'll be strangers, not friends," he replied dismissively. "I know that David and Sarah say that strangers are just friends you've not met yet, but making new friends is really hard. That's why I'm sad that Connor isn't my friend now."

"I don't know if he's your friend or not," I said genuinely. "That's something the two of you can work out together. Maybe the harder it is to make friends, the harder you need to work to keep them. Have you phoned Connor?"

"The only way to find out is to try. I find that if you're nice to people, they're generally nice back."

"And you're nice to me even though I did bad things," he said as if he didn't really believe it.

I realised that his apparent change of topic was for him probably a logical continuation and maybe also a test to see if I meant what I'd been saying to him.

The next day, while Stephane and Liam were in the conservatory, I was preparing our evening meal with Connor when he received a call and left the kitchen to take it privately. He'd been gone for only a couple of minutes when he returned.

"That was Mike," he informed me with a frown. "He said that you told him to phone me."

"That's not exactly how I remember it," I replied. "He wanted to know if you were still his friend, and I told him I didn't know and that he should sort it out with you. Then I asked if he'd phoned you, and he said that he hadn't. I didn't tell him to do it."

"Anyway," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "I told him I was busy helping you with cooking, and I'd call him back when I had time. Do you think I should?"

"What if he asks if I'm still his friend?" he asked, looking a little concerned.

"That's up to you. If you want to be friends, you can just say so. If you don't, then it's a bit more complicated, and you'll need to be as kind and gentle as possible, maybe even avoiding a direct answer."

"I didn't think you'd want me to be friends with him anymore," he said, the intonation making it sound like a question.

"I'd never tell you who you can be friends with," I replied, "unless I thought they were dangerous or a really bad influence. As far as I know, Mike isn't dangerous, and you're strong-willed enough not to be influenced by him."

We went back to work preparing food, and it was a few minutes before we spoke about anything except what we were doing. Then he looked at me and sucked on his lower lip and looked toward the doorway, presumably checking that no one else was nearby.

"It wasn't nice for him to show you things you didn't want to see," I said sympathetically. "I can understand why it would put you off wanting to be friends. All I can say is that if you want to be friends, you may need to make conditions, like telling him not to show you stuff like that."

After we'd eaten, Connor announced that he was going to return Mike's call, and taking his phone to the parlour, he indicated that he wanted privacy. Liam and Stephane looked at me questioningly, as if they expected me to comment, but I just shrugged my shoulders. The fact that Connor didn't return for almost half an hour led me to think that he'd probably told Mike that they were still friends.

On the evening of the day that the foster carers returned home, Sarah called me to let me know that all was well and that Mike and Katie were back.

"Good as gold," I replied, "and Liam's started taking an interest in the guitar since he got his hands on Stephane's."

"What with his singing, keyboard, and now guitar, I wonder if that boy's going to become a famous musician," she said in an amused tone.

"Or maybe a biologist or one of those famous gardeners you see on TV," I suggested lightly. Thinking more about Liam's personality, I added, "Or maybe he'll be a diplomat."

"That's one of the great joys of looking after children: the excitement of all the possibilities and helping them achieve their potential."

"Yes, Connor's full of potential, too," I said. "At the moment, I think he could become a famous chef, or an IT expert, or maybe a lawyer."

"Anyway," she said in a more businesslike tone, "as you know, your brothers start back at school on Tuesday, so they'll have to be back here by Monday evening. Also, we want them to be here on Friday after school because we're having a special goodbye tea for Katie. She's going to go to live with her mother on Saturday."

"Yes," I replied, then hesitantly added, "Erm, I don't know what's appropriate for such an occasion. A cake? A present? I mean, is it a sad occasion that she's leaving or a happy occasion that she's going back to her mum?"

"It's a little of both. A cake is always nice for any occasion, and a present isn't necessary, but if you wanted to bring one, it wouldn't be inappropriate," she said. "She's leaving on Saturday after breakfast, and we want all the children to be there, which means Liam and Connor should stay here overnight on Friday."

"I understand. We've arranged to see Aunt Anne and Uncle Geoffrey on Saturday afternoon, so if it's okay with you, I'll come to pick them up before lunch," I replied. "And it would be great if you, David, Susie and Mike could come here for Sunday lunch and maybe stay for tea as well."

"That would be lovely, and I'm sure it'll be good for Mike to have a change of scenery."

When I told my brothers about the special tea for Katie, they were quite sad at the prospect of losing a friend. I pointed out that they could stay in touch by phone or video chat and that maybe she'd come back to visit occasionally. My words cheered them up, but only a little.

"Mike's going to miss her most," Connor said. "She's our friend but more friends with him."

"Maybe we should make two cakes, then," I suggested, "Katie's favourite for her and Mike's favourite to cheer him up."

Stephane, who'd been listening to that in silence, waited until the boys had left the room before speaking.

"I don't want to go. Would it upset you if I didn't? Would it be bad-mannered of me to make an excuse?" he asked. "I'd feel out of place, and, well, I wouldn't like to go to a goodbye party."

"Of course I'd miss you, but I wouldn't be upset," I replied sympathetically, "and although you're definitely not an outsider, I can understand you might feel uncomfortable."

Overnight, I had an idea for a gift for Katie, and early in the morning, I went into the city centre and bought seven small silver heart charms for her bracelet, which I'd noticed she wore almost every day. I had each charm engraved with 'Love from' and a name: David, or Sarah, or Susie, or Mike, or Connor, or Liam, or Paul. Then, as soon as I returned home, Connor and I started making cakes.

When we arrived at the foster home for the farewell tea, Sarah asked where Stephane was, and I told her that he thought that a special event like this was just for family. He ' d felt he might be intruding and would feel uncomfortable being there. She said that he would ' ve been welcome but that she understood his feelings.

The event had all the outward appearances and trappings of a party, but beneath the festive surface there was a hint of melancholy. After all, we were saying goodbye to a member of the family. Of course, Katie would hopefully want to stay in touch, but she would no longer be a part of their everyday lives. Mike was especially subdued, though he tried to put on a brave face.

It seemed that every time I saw Mike, he'd grown a little taller, and his voice was now noticeably changing. The unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of his voice left him looking sheepish and even less inclined to talk than he'd been before. Susie also seemed to be changing on an almost daily basis. Although her physical growth wasn't as rapid as Mike's, she'd developed new skills and become a little more independent. Every time I saw her, she could do more for herself, or at least insist on trying to do more for herself.

During the course of the evening, I noticed that Mike had got his laptop back, and later David told me that it was a probationary arrangement. He and Sarah felt that it would be useful for homework and also that he could use it to keep in touch with Katie. For the time being, Mike would be allowed to have the laptop each day after tea and would have to return it before bedtime.

As the party was winding down and everyone was feeling lethargic after eating so much, I remembered that Mike had asked me about going for a run that weekend. I explained to him that after picking my brothers up after lunch on Saturday, we'd be going to visit my godparents. Then on Sunday, Sarah and David would be bringing him to have lunch and tea at my house.

"So you're breaking your promise," he accused. giving me the impression that wouldn't have been a surprise to him.

"No," I said, wondering if it had been an actual promise, "I'm just saying the timing will have to be rearranged. I'll be bringing Connor and Liam back after lunch on Monday, so we can go for a run then."

"You said we'd go at the weekend," he said in an almost gloating tone, "but Monday isn't the weekend."

"It isn't a school day, so I think it counts as part of a long weekend," I pointed out.

On my way home, the car felt empty without my brothers or Stephane. Only a year ago, I would have relished the time alone and relaxed to my favourite in-car music, but now I'd rather have been listening to Liam's sweet singing. When I arrived back at the house, Stephane greeted me with a hug, which took away most of my melancholy.

When Sarah, David, Mike, and Susie arrived for lunch on Sunday, they seemed a little subdued. Although Katie was the sort of person who was usually quiet and kept herself in the background, I felt her absence from the group, and I presumed that the others were also missing her. This was confirmed when little Susie told me sadly that Katie had gone away.

"We tried to explain to her that Katie's gone to live with her mum, but that she'll visit us sometimes," Sarah said, "but Susie's missing her already."

Liam, who was always eager to raise people ' s spirits, took Susie 's hand and encouraged her to go and see his new plants. We all followed them to the conservatory, which to me now seemed quite full, though Liam and Stephane had both assured me that there was room for at least twice as many plants.

"Don't worry," I told Sarah, who appeared to be slightly concerned. "Stephane made sure that there's nothing poisonous or harmful in any way."

The little girl's attention was immediately drawn to the 'baby orange tree' that Liam had positioned prominently. Before anyone could stop her, she reached out and plucked one of the brightest coloured fruits and began sniffing it. David immediately took it from her and gave Liam an apologetic look. The little girl pouted but didn't cry, and Liam put on a brave face and pretended that he didn't mind.

"It's okay," he said, "she can have it. It smells nice and won't hurt if you eat it, but it tastes sour like a lemon."

"If you give it to me," I offered, "I'll slice it up so we can see what it's like."

We all went to the kitchen, where Connor and I made final food preparations while the others examined and sniffed the sliced fruit. David and Sarah put a couple of slices in a glass of mineral water so that they could get a taste. Susie licked one of the slices and pulled a face that suggested she'd be unlikely to pick any of the fruits in future. Then Liam led them back to the conservatory while Connor and I continued our work.

After just a couple of minutes, Mike, who clearly wasn't much interested in plants, returned to the kitchen and asked if we wanted any help. The dining table had already been set, so there wasn't really much he could do apart from watching us and making occasional comments. I was interested to observe that Connor didn't seem to mind his presence.

After we'd eaten and the table had been cleared, Susie noticed the guitar propped against the piano and went to explore it. As soon as she realised it made sounds, she decided it was a great toy. Her mother and Stephane closely monitored the little girl as she played with it. Liam and David, possibly wishing to escape the noise, went for a walk in the garden.

Connor and Mike went into the conservatory, and bearing in mind that neither of them was particularly interested in plants, my curiosity persuaded me to follow them. There I found them whispering together, and then they started sniggering and laughing. Apparently, they hadn't noticed me enter because when I spoke, they both looked at me with a mixture of guilt and surprise.

Connor blushed and remained silent, but after a moment of hesitation, Mike decided to speak.

"I told him not to touch the cactus in case he gets a prick in his hand," he said, emphasising the word 'prick'.

His expression and body language indicated that he considered his words to be some sort of challenge. Rolling my eyes and smiling slightly, I turned to leave, but before I could reach the doorway, the redhead spoke again.

"Don't you think that's funny?" he said, reinforcing my impression that this was a kind of test.

"When I was your age," I replied, "I would probably have found it as funny as you do, but after hearing things like that for a few years, it's not so amusing."

"But you're not angry at us?" Connor asked, apparently surprised at my reaction.

"No, of course not," I said, smiling gently. "It's not so long since I was a boy, and I know what growing boys are like. In fact, I'd be surprised if you weren't amused by such things. But I'm sure you know that you need to be careful who hears you say things like that."

"Is it okay if Mike uses our upstairs toilet?" Connor asked as I turned to leave again. Then, seeing my questioning look, he added, "The others might want to use the one downstairs."

I looked at Mike, who was trying to appear disinterested while at the same time closely studying my response. Although I still didn't understand why he didn't want to use the downstairs toilet, I said that it would be okay. Both boys quickly disappeared upstairs, and by the time they came back down, Susie had become bored with the guitar and gone into the garden with her mother and Stephane.

"I thought you'd got lost," I joked when Connor and Mike joined me in the kitchen, where I was putting finishing touches to the trifle. "I thought I'd have to decorate the cake on my own."

"I'm here to help now," my brother said. "I was just showing Mike how to use the bidet."

"But I didn't get to use it then," the redhead said, "so he had to show me again. And, erm, I really like it."

"Do you think David and Sarah will get one of those things in their house?" Mike asked.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "You'll have to ask them. Anyway, if you're both going to be helping me now, I hope you've washed your hands."

The following morning, I spent most of my time organising my brothers and getting them ready to return to the foster home. Although neither of them was happy with the prospect of going back to school the next day, they didn't grumble about it as much as they'd done on previous occasions. Meanwhile, Stephane decided to avoid the hurly-burly by spending his time in the parlour, working on his application for the PGCE course.

When the four of us arrived shortly after lunch, Mike's face lit up when he saw that, apart from the shoes, I was already wearing my running clothes. He barely paused to say hello before dashing upstairs to put on his own kit. By the time my brothers had taken their bags from the car, he was back down again and ready to go. It was a beautiful early spring day, and I, too, was eager to go running.

As soon as we got to Lytton Dell, Liam, accompanied by Stephane, went exploring, looking for changes that spring had brought since his last visit. Connor hung around while Mike and I changed our shoes, then he asked what route we intended to take. Once he got that information, he went to find a position where he could keep us in sight as much as possible.

Initially, I matched pace with Mike and gave him lots of encouragement as well as a little advice. When I could see he was tiring, I told him to return to the others while I carried on at my usual pace. By the time I finished, Mike had done his cooling-down exercises, dried himself off, and wrapped himself in a large towel. He and Connor were chatting together in a way that indicated that they were now friends.

We returned to our usual term-time routine, having video calls with my brothers on most weekdays and with them spending the weekends with me. I tried to keep up to date with my computing interests, though I was a little distracted by Stephane, who'd quickly completed his application for the PGCE course. The spring weather was very good, and we frequently went cycling, which also gave him an introduction to the local area.

The daytime distractions with Stephane lasted only a couple of weeks until the beginning of May, when he started the job at the library. When I told him that he could use the Golf to go to work, he said that finding parking spaces every day in the city centre would be a hassle and that he'd rather use public transport.

At the beginning of the last week of April, I got a call from Carol to inform me that the Matching Panel would be meeting on the following Thursday morning to make their final decision and that they'd like me to attend. When I arrived at the meeting, I was surprised at the number of people there as well as Carol, Rose, and Charles.

After almost half an hour of what felt to me to be an intensive grilling, I was asked to wait outside while they had a discussion and made a decision. The fact that they would make that decision while I was waiting was another surprise. However, I guessed that they'd already discussed things and that my attendance was merely a final part of the process.

I'd been waiting for only about ten minutes when Carol called me back into the meeting room. There, the chairman happily announced that the panel had decided that it would be in my brothers' best interests if I adopted them and that they'd support my formal application to the Family Court. Almost in passing, he mentioned that after the boys came to live with me, I could still expect occasional visits from Social Services just to see how things were going.

Everyone present was clearly happy with the decision, and when I left the room, Carol, Charles, and Rose came out with me to extend their personal congratulations. I still wondered if this had been the outcome that Rose had desired ever since she first spoke with me, but if so, she still never gave any indication that it had been. In any case, I was so happy and excited that I couldn't wait to inform the people I cared most about.

The first person I called was Stephane, then David, then my godparents, even though I knew that they'd still be at work. The next person I called was Sandra, who wasn't in her office. However, she'd been expecting my call and had asked her secretary to make an appointment for me to see her as soon as possible so that we could deal with the necessary paperwork.

As I'd done when letting Connor know the results of his entrance exam , I decided to go to the foster home in person to give the good news to my brothers when they returned from school. Stephane was initially a little reluctant to go with me, but I told him that I felt he was part of the family and so should be there. Of course, my brothers were extremely happy, and Liam went around hugging everyone. Even Mike seemed happy, though I could tell he was trying to hide an underlying sadness.

Sarah invited us to stay for tea, but Stephane and I didn't eat much because Aunt Anne had insisted that we go round that evening for a celebratory dinner with them. She also insisted that on Saturday she'd treat us all to afternoon tea in her favourite hotel restaurant.

Knowing that my godparents were liberal with champagne at celebrations, Stephane and I took a taxi that evening. As anticipated, we were greeted not with the usual offers of gin and tonic but with an almost compulsory glass of champagne. Despite the short notice, Aunt Anne produced an excellent meal, and as we ate, she excitedly went through all the possible things the boys could do when they came to live with me.

"Of course you'll need to check with Sandra," Uncle Geoffrey said as we sat in the living room drinking coffee after the meal, "but as I understand it, you can request a name change for the boys as part of the formal adoption application. That would be the easiest way to do it, and there'd be no extra cost involved."

"Yes," Aunt Anne said, nodding her head for emphasis. "After all, their real name should be Cooper, not Sterling."

"Actually, dear, Sterling is their legal name," her husband corrected her. "I checked the documentation and found that not only is it on their birth certificates but also Mary legally changed her own name."

"It's preserved with me," I pointed out a little archly. "Also, Sterling was Gran ' s family name, so that would also be preserved. And anyway, they've had that name since they were born. It's part of their identity, and I won't make them change it."

Although Stephane had taken no part in the conversation, he'd been paying close attention, and an almost imperceptible smile appeared on his face when he heard what I'd just said.

"You're all brothers, so you should have the same surname," Aunt Anne asserted, "and surely they'd want that."

"Aside from that," her husband said, "it would probably make any future paperwork easier when you were exercising your parental duties."

When Stephane and I picked my brothers up from the foster home after school on Friday, they were both still in celebratory mode from the previous day's news. I pointed out that there was still the formal application to the Family Court, but I agreed that the adoption was now almost certain to go through. The boys then started chattering about the things they planned to do once they'd moved in with me permanently.

After our evening meal, when their boisterousness had calmed and become more like a quiet happiness, I asked my brothers to stay sitting at the kitchen table so that we could discuss something. Stephane stood up to leave, but I signalled with my hand, indicating that he should stay. The boys looked at me expectantly but showed no signs of concern.

"As part of the formal adoption application," I began, "it's possible for me to ask the court to legally change your names."

"Of course, you'd keep your first names," I reassured them, "but you can change your second names. But the most important thing is that it's your decision. Absolutely. No change at all would be made unless you actually want it."

"Why would we want to change our name? What's wrong with Sterling?" the older boy asked. "It was Mum's name."

"Before she decided to change it, she was a Cooper, like me," I pointed out gently. "Anyway, Aunt Anne suggested that when we're all living together as a family, we might want to have the same family name."

"I want you to do what you want to do," I replied, "and I'm not going to say what I'd do because I don't want to influence your decision. And I know that your whole name, not just your first name, is part of who you are. It's not an easy decision, and I don't expect you to decide quickly, but it would be great if you could let me know by Tuesday morning."

"If that's what you decide," I replied. Then a thought occurred to me, and I added, "Or you could add an extra name at the end and be Connor Sterling Cooper. Or maybe Connor Cooper Sterling."

"Erm, I don't know. I'd have to check with Sandra. But wouldn't you both want to have the same last name?"

Liam nodded and looked at the older boy, and it was clear that both of them were uncertain about what they wanted to do.

"As I told you," I said, "the decision is totally up to you. Why don't you take time to think about it and talk about it together?"

I was confused by the question, which was apparently totally unrelated to the conversation. Perhaps he was implying that he deserved some reward for having to deal with a difficult decision, or maybe it was some sort of test, or perhaps he was just thirsty. In any case, I agreed to his request and told them to help themselves. Then, drinks in hand, they left the room.

"That seemed to go okay," Stephane said. "It's great that they have a choice, but I'm glad I don't have to make such a big decision."

As Monday was a holiday, the boys didn't have to be back at the foster home until Monday afternoon. My brothers showed no sign that they might feel burdened by having to make an important decision, and I asked Aunt Anne not to talk to them about it when we had afternoon tea at the hotel. On Sunday afternoon, after the four of us returned from a long bike ride, the boys went into the parlour, and I presumed they were going to play on one of the consoles. However, they returned just a few minutes later.

"Yeah. Liam Sterling Cooper," he replied slowly, almost as if he were testing the name as he spoke it.

"I don't know," I admitted. "It would be such a tough decision, and I'm glad I didn't have to make it. But I think probably I would've done the same as you."

As it happened, Stephane started his job on the same day as my appointment with Sandra, so I dropped him off at the library on my way to her office. He arrived home at around six fifteen, just as I was gathering together the ingredients for our evening meal. I called out to let him know I was in the kitchen, and when he came in to greet me, he looked thoughtful.

"Everything's fine," he reassured me with a smile, "and the job's easy. There's a tablet with the catalogue database, and all I have to do is go through the shelves, tick off the books that I find, and make sure the books are in the proper locations. Actually, the main difficulty was that some of the books looked really interesting, and I had to resist the temptation not to open them up and look through them."

"Oh, you poor thing," I joked. "Such a tough job, especially when I know how hard it is for you to resist temptation!"

He laughed and then began to look thoughtful again, as if considering what to say.

"When I was walking up the drive," he said eventually, "I noticed you have a couple of flowering cherry trees that are budding."

"Yes, the one on the east side has white flowers, and the one on the other side has pink."

"Anyway, that reminded me of that stupid analogy I made. Well, maybe it was really stupid but just incomplete."

He looked at me, as if wondering how I might react, but I stayed silent, smiling and giving him a questioning look.

"I said there's no point in trying to hold on to the beauty of a falling cherry blossom, and that's true, but I should have added that's okay because there'll be more blossoms next year," he said. Then, blushing, he looked into my eyes and added, "I suppose you think that's just silly romantic nonsense."

I'd just restarted our meal preparations when my brothers called, and Stephane and I sat on the sofa with my laptop so we could all chat together. I didn't ask Connor about his day at school because I knew he'd give his usual negative response, and I'd learned from experience that if anything interesting had happened, he'd volunteer the information.

In fact, he seemed more interested in what I was planning for dinner and what Stephane's job was like. Liam asked if Stephane would still have time to make sure the conservatory plants were okay, and he was reassured that there was plenty of time in the evenings. My boyfriend then mentioned the flowering cherry trees in the front garden.

"You never asked me to give you a list of all the plants in the garden," I replied.

"With a little luck," Stephane said placatingly, "they should be in bloom when you're here at the weekend."

"If they have flowers when I'm not there, you have to send me pictures," Liam commanded.

"Yes, Master, we will," Stephane replied just before I could make a similar response.

After we'd eaten, we sat on the sofa trying to see if there was anything we both wanted to watch on TV. Stephane looked away from the screen and directly at me.

That immediately got my attention and made me feel a little concerned, so I returned his gaze and waited for him to speak.

"I know you said you don't want me to pay rent, but I've been living here for over a month now, and I should be contributing something, especially now that I'm working. Maybe I could pay utilities or buy food."

"Utilities are paid by direct debit, and it'd be a pain to work out relative contributions," I pointed out. "I buy most of the food with my online supermarket accounts, and as I enjoy cooking, I know what food to get."

"But I don't want to be sponging off you," he said, looking uncomfortable. "It makes me feel like, well, like a kept man."

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently as I tried to think of something to say to make him feel better. My usual instinctive response in such a situation might be to make a joke, but I realised that would be inappropriate, especially as he'd previously mentioned feeling insecure and vulnerable.

"In this house we're a family, and you make a big contribution to it," I said sincerely. "You help Liam with his plants and music, you support Connor in his love of football, you're always giving me emotional support, and last week you did laundry for everyone while the boys were here. For me, and I'm sure for my brothers, that's more important than a financial contribution."

"Yes, but…" he said, not totally convinced by my words. Then he apparently had an idea and continued, "Mrs T only cleans downstairs, so I could do the cleaning upstairs… and do the laundry."

"That's great if you're okay doing that," I said, putting my arm across his shoulders and pulling him closer.

"Speaking of Connor and football," he said, "with his birthday being the weekend after next, I was thinking of what I could do for a birthday present. Anyway, he told me that he'd never been to a real live professional match. Linchester's last home game of the season happens to be that weekend, and although it's not his favourite team, I thought I could take him. What do you think?"

"I think it's a great idea, " I replied enthusiastically. " Actually, I was thinking of taking him on a trip to the seaside on the Sunday."

"The seaside? It's still only May," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Won't it be a bit chilly?"

"Definitely too cold for lounging on the beach, but as long as it's not raining, we can still walk along the shoreline and explore the rock pools," I replied. "And the amusement park opened at Easter, so there will be lots of things to do that I know Connor likes. He loves amusement parks and arcade games, and there are nice places to eat."

"In that case, you're not only invited, but I insist on you going," I replied happily. "Those things scare me to death, and I hate any rides that go up really high. So you can keep Connor company on the scary rides."

"Really? It's hard to believe you're so easily scared," he said, gazing into my eyes as if looking for confirmation. With a little smile, he added, "It seems that the chameleon's mask is slipping. And yes, I know I'm mixing metaphors, but it just seems to fit."

"Of course I don't want to admit it to my brothers, but I'm sure I can make up some excuse for avoiding some rides. Liam's still too small for some of the scariest ones, so I can volunteer to keep him company."

"Oh, you're sneaky!" he said and laughed gently, "but the boys aren't stupid, so they're bound to work it out pretty quickly."

"I know they will, but they're also kind and sensitive. They'll pretend to accept my excuses just so that they don't hurt my feelings."

The next time that my brothers called me, Connor unashamedly asked what I was giving him for his birthday, and he even had the temerity to give some blatant hints.

It wasn't a very brotherly thing to do, but it was amusing to see a range of emotions displayed sequentially: surprise, disbelief, disappointment, and finally annoyance.

"And I'm planning another event," Stephane, who'd been sitting silently by my side, said.

"How're you getting on with Mike now?" I asked Connor. "You seem to be friendly, but are you actually friends?"

He frowned, probably wondering why I'd suddenly changed the subject so completely, but I had an ulterior motive that I'd been thinking about for some time.

"Erm, well, I guess we're friends, yeah," he said, giving me the impression that he thought I was asking a trick question.

"That's good, because I was thinking of inviting him to the event I was planning."

"Liam and Stephane will be there, even though it's your birthday event," I pointed out.

"You share your birthday cake with friends, but it's still your personal special cake," I said, "so if you share a birthday event with a friend, it's still your personal special event. But if Mike isn't your friend, then obviously you wouldn't want to spoil things by inviting him."

"He's my friend," he said after a brief pause. With a sneaky smile, he added, "But how can I invite him if I don't know what it is?"

"If you want to invite him, just invite him," I said, feeling satisfied with the outcome of our conversation. "Maybe he'll like being surprised."

The following week, Stephane took an afternoon off from his job so that he could attend an open day and an interview for the PGCE course. He was making such good progress with his work that his employers didn't object, and in fact, they were very supportive. The week after that, he was informed that he'd been offered a place on the course, and that same evening I found him frowning in concentration as he studied the screen of his laptop.

"Applying for a student loan. What I get for the summer job, even if you won ' t let me pay any rent, won't be enough to pay the tuition fees," he said, looking up at me with an almost accusatory stare.

"What I was about to say," I soothed, "was that you don't need to apply for a loan because I can let you have a loan with the same repayment conditions as the student loan but without the interest."

He looked at me with narrowed eyes for a couple of seconds, almost as if he were suspicious of my offer.

"That's good of you, thanks," he said slowly, "but if it's okay with you, I'd like to think about it."

A couple of days later, he accepted my offer with the proviso that we draw up and sign a formal loan agreement.

Stephane spoke with his mother on the phone every week, and she was the one who usually called him. I wondered why they never made video calls but decided that it was none of my business, and I never asked about it. Usually, their chats were on midweek evenings, but in the middle of the second week in May, she called him just as we were sitting down to breakfast.

"Claire's started labour," Stephane, looking a little stunned, announced as soon as the very brief conversation ended. "She went to hospital just after midnight."

"Yeah," he replied, his surprised expression transforming into a happy smile. "I'm going to be an uncle. Mum said she'd phone again as soon as the baby's born."

By the time he returned from work that evening, he still hadn't heard from his mum and was becoming concerned. While I was preparing dinner, he asked me several times if he should call his mum, and I told him that she'd certainly be in touch as soon as there was anything to report. He normally had a very good appetite, but despite my reassurances, he didn't eat much of his meal.

When it was time to go to bed, I was anticipating a restless night, but he eventually received a call while I was in the bathroom. When I emerged into the bedroom, he rushed to give me a hug.

"They're going to call her Odette, after my mum," he burbled, "and if it'd been a boy, they'd have named him after Terry's dad."

I'd never been told the name of his sister's husband, but now it seemed a pretty safe assumption that it was 'Terry'.

"Mum said I should go and meet the baby as soon as possible, and I'd really like to, but I told her I couldn't just leave my job for a few days," he said, shaking his head. "She sounded really tired, and I guess she wasn't thinking straight, because she said I could go down for a weekend."

"Yeah, that would be fun," I commented with a hint of sarcasm, "driving for eight hours to get there, spending one night, then driving eight hours back again."

"Anyway," he said, nodding, "I told her I'd go down as soon as I could after my job finishes in a couple of months and that I'd arrange a video call to see the baby as soon as Claire feels up to it."

"Actually," he replied, looking sheepish, "I'm suddenly feeling very hungry. Let's have a snack first."

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Gran's House

by Kit

Chapter 25