Page 32 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Etienne

Brothers from Another Mother WhatsApp group

Walker : I’ll be there.

Etienne : Me too.

Fox : Bring ear protectors. It’s going to be a noisy day.

Walker : Oops. Not just a noisy day, I’m afraid. Noisy year ahead. . .

Fox : Eh?

Walker : Are you going to tell him, Etienne, or shall I?

Fox : Tell me what?

Etienne : We bought him a drum kit.

Fox :

Etienne : Just kidding.

Fox :

Fox was not wrong about the noise. Ten three- and four-year-olds and their parents, plus some brothers and sisters and their friends, packed into Fox’s four-bedroomed family home almost had Etienne’s ears bleeding within ten minutes.

The fact that the children were existing on sugar and adrenaline also raised the decibel levels.

He made his way through the house to the kitchen diner which opened onto the back garden.

On his way, he passed Fox’s study where the door had been taped closed with police incident tape and a notice had been stuck firmly in place: STAY OUT OR DIE .

Obviously, the game design was at a crucial stage then and couldn’t be put at risk by cake-high partygoers.

As he picked up a beer from the table marked Adults only , the birthday boy barrelled into his thighs and hugged him tight. Etienne scooped him up to shoulder height so that he could see him properly.

‘Happy birthday, George,’ he said to the freckled face, who grinned widely before wiggling like a bag of cats to be returned to the floor, where he took off through the sea of legs towards the garden.

Etienne followed, saying hello to those he knew, and nodding to those he didn’t. A couple of the mums watched him with heavy eyes as he walked past; smiling politely, he moved on.

Fox’s kitchen was the most family place he knew.

It reminded him of his own home growing up: pictures on the fridge, birthday cards on the windowsill, photographs on a corkboard on the wall.

A shelf full of cookery books– which Fox used daily to make sure he was getting nutrition into the boys– a calendar full of play dates in red, work deadlines in black.

A wooden table with spaghetti Bolognese stains deeply ingrained.

All that was missing was their mum. Many a night he and Walker had sat with Fox around that table in the early days, offering beer and friendship while Fox kept one ear on the baby monitor and one eye on the clock for the next feed.

Today a Happy 4th Birthday! banner hung across the ceiling, while red and blue balloons were tied in bunches in the corners of the room.

It was amazing how much things had changed.

Etienne was here to celebrate that today, just as much as he was here to chuck his godson around.

That had been a surprise too. When Fox finally came out of his shock at having two children and no wife, George had been almost six months old: a chubby baby who always wore more of his food than he swallowed.

Fox asked if Etienne would be his godfather, saying with a smile, ‘Walker got Reggie, it’s only fair.

’ But then, in all seriousness, ‘Honestly, mate, you’ve been a lifesaver.

I’d love it if you said yes.’ He’d been choked up, tears filling his eyes.

Etienne glanced at the corkboard as he went past. Fox had a passion for photo booths.

Earlier photos had Fox holding fat-cheeked George wearing bibs and rompers, with Reggie hanging on the side.

The boys changed across the corkboard, George growing teeth, Reggie losing teeth, both getting curly hair.

Fox looked exactly the same in every picture ? same smile, same silver hair, just a different checked shirt.

Right at the bottom of the corkboard there was one of Fox and Meg.

In that one, his hair was darker with a silver fleck at the temples.

He smiled widely at the camera, as Meg pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘You’re late!’ Fox shouted from the garden. ‘But I see you found the beer.’ He beckoned Etienne over to the circle he was in where everyone still wore coats and rosy cheeks.

‘And I’ve already seen the birthday boy,’ Etienne said, lifting his bottle to cheers with Walker as he joined the group, grinning at Rosie and Wren who had brought Riley, who was in the same nursery as George.

The garden had been set up with a bouncy castle, and children were flying in all directions. Etienne spotted Reggie as he ricocheted from one side to the other.

‘Here you go, Wren, Rosie.’ He knew, by the husky tone, that it was Isabella. She squeezed in alongside him, handing over glasses of lemonade to her friends while juggling a wine herself.

‘Not drinking?’ Fox asked. ‘Is there something we should know?’

‘Only that we are responsible parents at a birthday party for a four-year-old,’ Rosie said haughtily, sipping her lemonade.

‘And we do have a nice bottle chilling in the fridge at home for after we leave Riley here for her sleepover. So don’t worry about us.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Etienne said and then turned to Isabella. ‘How are you?’ he asked.

She paused momentarily before dropping her eyes and asking, ‘Fox, where’s your bathroom?’ And when he told her, she gave her glass to Walker, muttered an ‘excuse me’ and disappeared off into the house. Had she blanked him?

His suspicions were aroused again when, a few minutes later, she rejoined the group and slotted in on the other side of the circle, next to Rosie and Wren.

He watched her, but she seemed to always be deep in conversation, never once looking his way.

Although this didn’t give him the chance to catch her eye, it did give him the opportunity to admire her.

Wavy hair hanging loose. Bright red trainers and ankle-length jeans.

Her coat open to reveal her shirt tied at the front, offering a glimpse of her midriff.

He thrust his free hand into his pocket, thinking about the way her skin had felt under his fingers. Still, she didn’t look at him.

‘Time for pass the parcel,’ Fox announced loudly, and a dozen children appeared from nowhere, assembling to sit cross-legged in a circle.

They knew the rules. The music started, but it wasn’t a tinny nursery rhyme.

Thanks to Fox, who always played music as he worked, Reggie and George knew their stuff.

This game of pass the parcel was soundtracked by Usher.

Fox handed a wrapped-up parcel to George, and he sniffed it and shook it and squeezed it before passing it on.

Wren and Rosie edged nearer to help Riley if she needed it and Etienne saw his moment.

‘Hi,’ he said, closing the gap to Isabella. She looked even better up close. Her blue eyes flicked to look at him, then away, and her mouth parted slightly as if to speak before closing again.

‘How’s everything going?’ he asked. Suddenly, she pulled her phone from her pocket and, glancing at the screen, said hurriedly, ‘Sorry, I’ve got to get this,’ before turning away and rushing inside. What the hell?

The birthday cake came out and Fox lit the candles, and a million children leaned in to breathe their germs over the icing. Fox was in his element.

‘Blow out every candle and then make a wish,’ he said to George, who blew the longest exhale possible then screwed his eyes tight shut. Etienne smiled at his godson’s faith in wishes coming true.

‘Always make sure the candle is properly blown out, though, kids.’ Walker’s fire safety advice went unobserved by the crowd as they all surged forward for a slice of heaven.

Etienne saw Isabella out the corner of his eye, and she seemed to spot him at the same time and moved away to talk to some of the parents. She kept her eyes downcast, studiously not looking in his direction.

Once was nothing. Twice was a coincidence. Three times was obvious. She was avoiding him. Interesting. He sauntered over to join her. She was talking to a couple, the woman holding a sticky toddler on her hip.

‘So, how are you finding Honeybridge?’ the man was asking. ‘Settling in?’

‘I’m loving it,’ she said with a smile that faltered as Etienne approached. ‘Everyone’s so friendly.’

‘Did you move here with your husband?’ the woman asked, dabbing at her child’s grubby hands with a wipe.

‘No, just me,’ Isabella replied, and Etienne watched her back straighten at the question. He also saw the woman edge closer to her husband, laying claim on him.

‘You’ll want to join lots of clubs then, to meet local people,’ the woman said. ‘The rowing club has lots of single men,’ she said, making it abundantly clear her husband was taken. Etienne couldn’t help but smile.

‘Oh, I’m not looking for a man at the moment,’ said Isabella and she chose this exact moment to look directly at Etienne. ‘I’m concentrating on the restaurant. It’s easier without distractions. I might join some clubs, though. Good suggestion.’

‘What sort of things do you like? There’s archery? Running? Watercolour painting at the Maltings?’ the man suggested.

‘Or maybe photography?’ Etienne chipped in and couldn’t help but notice the flush that spread up her neck. Ha. Got her. So, she’d definitely looked at the photo.

‘Thanks,’ she said to the couple. ‘I’ll do some research.’ And with that, she turned and practically ran in the opposite direction, back towards the house.

‘She was nice,’ the husband said as they headed towards the bouncy castle.

‘Very pretty,’ the wife said, sniffing.

‘Was she? I didn’t notice,’ the husband replied, lying through his teeth for the sake of his marriage. Etienne snorted and had to turn it into a cough.

An hour later, most children had been taken home. All of them had a slice of cake, a party bag, a balloon, and a sugar high.

After the last acquaintances had left, Fox finally opened a beer and slumped in a deckchair beside Etienne and Walker. Wren, Rosie and Isabella sat on a bench seat. Riley, Reggie and George returned to the bouncy castle.