Page 34 of Dreams Do Come True

“Hey, little man. We’re nearly ready to go. Let’s get your shoes on, shall we?” I ask.

“No,” Lyric shouts.

“That wasn’t really a question that needed an answer. We’re going out and you need your shoes on.”

“No,” he shouts again and looks away.

“Sorry, Lyric, but the answer is yes, and indoor voice, please,” Kean bends down and picks Lyric up, holding him so I can put his shoes on.

Thank goodness for Kean as Lyric has turned into a limp, wriggly thing. After about five minutes of struggles, Kean growls at Lyric.

While Lyric looks at him in surprise, I get his shoes on. “So that worked,” I say.

“It did. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Good thinking. You keep hold of Lyric I’ll get River.”

We walk into the lounge and I collect the baby carrier, complete with the baby inside, and pick up his bag, with Kean taking Lyric’s. I hand Lyric his teddy, and we finally leave the house.

We’re going to be late, and I hate that. I don’t think I’ve ever been late in my life, but for future trips, I think we need to factor in an extra Lyric hour.

Kean insists on driving today, so I pull up Monica’s message with the address and tap it into the car’s satnav and then message Monica saying we’ll be a bit late, but that we are on our way.

I laugh when I see her reply.

I thought you might be. You forgot to factor in two children. See you when you get here.

I laugh and read Kean the message. “And one of them being a grumpy Gus.”

“Indeed.”

It doesn’t take us long to get to the Lees’ house, but now I’m worried about how Lyric will cope.

I’m worried too, honey. All we can do is help him over his heartbreak.

I love our mind link. It comes in handy, like now, when I don’t want Lyric hearing that we’re worried about him.

We can.I reply, then, plastering on a smile, I say, “Right then, let’s go.”

Kean has Lyric, and I have River, and we walk to the front door.

The house is lovely, it has a large bay window, a double garage and a large front garden, filled with colourful flower borders.

I ring the bell, and the next moment Monica is there, opening the door, a welcome smile on her face. It seems strange to see her in casual clothes and not a work suit and heels. She looks so chilled like this.

“Come on in,” she says, moving out of the way.

We walk in, and Lyric is beaming. “Down Clean,” he demands, wriggling.

Kean sets him on the floor, and Lyric toddles off, suddenly shouting for his parents. River is awake, so I take him out of the carrier and hold him close. He sighs and snuggles in.

“Mama, dada,” the little boy calls, going around the whole of the downstairs, looking for and calling out for them.

We follow, ready to catch him when he realises, they aren’t there.

“This is heart breaking,” Monica whispers.

Lyric stops in the kitchen and starts loudly crying.