Page 17 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

Aidan straightens up and freezes like a deer caught in headlights. Still clutching the hot tray of sausage rolls, his eyes widen as his gaze moves from Danny to Nick and back again. I can’t blame the poor kid—he’s probably on overload right now, just the way I knew he would be. After all, Nick is the spitting image of his uncle, albeit a few years younger.

“Everyone, this is my nephew, Nick,” Danny introduces him proudly. “He’s just moved down from Leeds and is going to be studying in London.”

Nick smiles at Sam and Chan, but as his gaze reaches Aidan, I don’t miss the quick sweep from head to toe of the good-looking Irish lad.

“Hi,” Nick says in that same quiet, self-assured rumble that Danny has.

“Fuck!” Aidan suddenly yelps loudly and drops the piping hot tray on the floor, shaking his hands afterwards.

“For fuck’s sake,” Chan chides. “What have I told you about using tea towels to take stuff out of the oven instead of the mitts?”

But before Chan can rise from his chair, Nick has already crossed the kitchen in three strides. Deftly stepping over the tray of scattered sausage rolls and taking Aidan’s wrists, he turns him to the sink and flicks the cold water on.

Poor Aidan’s cheeks flush pink as he finds his hands held gently under the running water and a pair of blue eyes slightly deeper than his own watching him carefully.

“Are you okay?” Nick murmurs as they continue to stare at each other.

Aidan doesn’t answer; instead, he gives a slow, dazed nod.

“What’s your name?” Nick asks softly.

“A-Aidan,” he manages after a moment.

“I like your accent.” Nick’s mouth curves. “What part of Ireland are you from?”

“Belfast,” Aidan almost whispers.

“Hmm, a Northern boy, then.”

I hear a loud crunch and we all turn our heads simultaneously to see Sam with his hand in a family-size bag of Doritos, his jaw moving slowly as he chews and swallows. Seeing our collective eyes on him, he simply holds out the bag. “Chilli Heatwave?” he offers innocently.

Danny rolls his eyes and I turn my attention back to the two boys at my sink. Nick chuckles and it sounds so like Danny that it’s actually a little unsettling.

“There.” He takes a fresh tea towel from the shelf over the counter and pats Aidan’s hands dry, turning them over to check his palms and fingers. “Good as new.”

“Thanks,” Aidan mutters, his cheeks darkening even further if possible.

“So—Nick, is it?” Chan sets the tray on the side, having scooped it off the floor and picked up all the escaped sausage rolls. His eyes narrow slightly and he folds his arms across his chest. “What brings you to London?”

“Like Uncle Danny said, I’m studying,” he says easily as he leans back against the counter.

“And what are you studying?” Chan raises one perfectly sculpted brow.

I glance across to Danny, who is watching the inquisition of his nephew unfold with amusement.

“Nursing,” Nick replies. “Well, I will be once I’ve finished my A-Levels.”

“Nursing?” Chan parrots. “You’re going to be a nurse?”

“Hopefully.” Nick nods. “I wanted a change of scenery. Some of my family members were less than complimentary about me wanting to be a nurse.”

“You told them?” Danny interrupts.

“Not exactly, but they found out. Granddad was ok, he wished me luck. He even gave me some money to help with the rent while I find a job. Mum and Grandma already knew, obviously. But you can imagine what Uncle Derek had to say.”

Danny scowled. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Nick gave a rueful look. “Uncle Mark had to stop Mum from going after him with Grandma’s cast-iron frying pan.”