Chapter Text
Conrad Barnes had been delighted and astonished to make it through the rigorous selection process to join the team operating the space hub, his family not so much though, their concern being that he was a long way from home if ever anything should go wrong. The shift pattern was manageable, on average two to three weeks or so up on the hub, situated in geostationary position near the Moon, the remaining weeks at the shuttle terminal in Luton, a former commercial airport which now managed solely galactic cargo traffic from the UK, Nordic and Western European countries, less than an hour on the high speed monorail from his home in Slough.
He had made it a point to set up a regular video call with his family on the weekends he was in space, just to keep in touch. He was the youngest of four siblings and his brothers and sister often had shifts which conflicted with his time at home so he didn’t always see them much in person despite them living in the same town, if not the same house.
“Are you absolutely sure it’s safe up there?” asked his sister Ianthe doubtfully, twirling a long lock of her jet black hair around her left index finger, concern in her brown eyes. She and Conrad were the youngest – only two years separated them and, while she had been happy for her brother’s career success, she nonetheless lived in anxiety at the possibility of him being in danger and beyond her reach.
“Safe as houses, it’s no more dangerous than working at the hub terminal on Earth.” he replied.
“Except,” said Rowan, the oldest of the three sons, “If there’s a hole in the wall in the Luton terminal, the worst you get is a draught and maybe water when it rains. Up in space, when there’s a hole in the wall you get sucked out into a vacuum and die, Con!”
“We have loads of failsafes in place and regular drills, it’s fine. Now, what’s new with you guys?”
“Uh, actually, I have something to tell you. I guess it could wait until you’re back in a couple of weeks but...” smiled Ianthe. “Tom and I are getting married!”
“Oh, wow!” cried Jasper as Rowan and Conrad cheered and their parents, also on the video call, clapped happily, Ianthe having told them of the engagement a few hours earlier.
“Congratulations.” grinned Conrad, as Rowan asked “Are his kids okay with it?”
“Well, Archie’s seven and Isabella’s five so there’s a limit to what they really understand but we’ve talked to them about it a lot over the past six months since we started discussing it, him and me, and they seem to be happy with it, as does the rest of the family.”
“That’s awesome. Do you have a date in mind, given our totally incompatible diaries?” asked Jasper.
“We have a few, Tom’s mum works in events planning so has a list of venues she can contact once we’ve narrowed it down. It might have to be during the week, rather than a weekend but if everyone’s okay with that, it could be within the next few months! I’ll send you a poll so we can work it out.”
“Mid-week is good for me.” said Conrad, loving the excited twinkle in his sister’s eyes. “I haven’t requested any time off just yet and I’ve covered a couple of guys extra shift days recently so I’ve got leverage for holiday.”
They all continued chatting, Conrad noticing that Rowan was hesitant to talk about his work. With a little prodding, Rowan reluctantly mentioned that his station had been involved in a fire fight earlier in the week, rescuing a group of terrified school children stranded behind a wall of flame with their teacher.
Conrad smiled, managing to stifle the jealous thought of being, again, the insignificant and less successful child. Rowan could sense the resentment, having no annoyance in response because he could see how Conrad struggled against his feelings. He didn’t want to feel inferior to his siblings and they did everything in their power to make sure there was no comparison between them. They none of them bragged about their achievements and there was no false modesty but the undeniable truth was that, of the four of them, three of them regularly saved lives.
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The residential staff quarters for the twenty operating personnel on the Space Hub were not unlike a corporate apartment hotel with one room studios decorated and furnished in a neutral colour palette. Everyone had their own corner kitchen with a bar table and two low backed tall stools, a small combi fridge-freezer, microwave grill oven, a two ring halogen hot plate, sink, dishwasher and standard supplies of kitchen and dining wares. There was a staff laundromat as well as a private fitness suite. The only thing really missing was the view since the staff rooms were on the side of the Hub which faced the Moon so that was all anyone would see if they opened their shutters. Rather than hang bland prints on the walls or miscellaneous black and white photographs from some city or other unknown, the designers had installed digital frames so the room’s occupant could choose from a wide selection of high definition stock images or upload some of their own photos. The Hub ran to the standard 24 hour Coordinated Universal Time and designers had done what they could to generate a passable version of daylight for those staying for extended periods, and the medical team prescribed vitamin supplements to the controllers to make up for the days of lost fresh air and sunshine.
There was a single cushioned armchair and the bed was a pullout sofa which, unlike some of Conrad’s colleagues, he would usually fold away each morning, moving the small coffee table to the middle of the room to leave it looking tidy in case of visitors. Onboard, there was a foodhall run by a team of five chefs and open to the public, both staff and cargo crews passing through, with different counters serving a variety of foods, Italian, Lebanese, what one chef would insist on calling French haute cuisine but was a limited range of disappointing ham and cheese toasted sandwiches and some rather dry chicken stew and so on. Conrad had had a long conversation with Aubrey, the manager of the Asian counter, discussing the food he served and in particular the rather odd combinations and flavours, some considerably more authentic than others. Aubrey was initially inclined to ignore Conrad’s helpful comments, assuming he was some back seat expert whose knowledge of Asian food was limited to the Golden Lotus Chinese takeaway. It had come as some surprise when Conrad mentioned his grandfather was a Malaysian who had emigrated to Britain in his twenties so he did know a little of what he was talking about.
It had been a long and tiring week, but Conrad was looking forward to a couple of days off and a week at home. About to zip up his kit bag and head to the shuttle launch to return to Earth, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Answering it, he greeted his superior, a tall, broad Scotsman called Charles with an impressive handlebar moustache.
“I come bearing bad news, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?”
“Harvey called in sick. He won’t be here for shift change. Julia will be able to cover for him but can’t be here before tomorrow’s shuttle run. Would you mind hanging on another day? We can adjust your holiday dates to start a day later?”
“Yeah, no problem. Do you need me down in the bays or up in the control booth?”
“Bays this morning as we have a lot of outgoing traffic and control this afternoon, if that’s alright?”
“Sure, I’ll grab some coffee and be there in ten minutes.”
“Great, you’re a star. Thanks!”
Conrad closed his door and sighed. He had really been looking forward to getting home and resting, but never mind, it was only putting it off by 24 hours. Stopping off at one of the coffee stands, he bought a medium milky coffee, paying with his employee card. All staff members had one, charged up at the beginning of each month with a certain number of credits which could be used for food and drink, the laundromat or the onboard shop. There were no duty free outlets, nor were there passport controls or customs, those checks were carried out on Earth at the exit and entrance terminals, but the shop sold things the average traveller might have forgotten to pack such as books, snacks for the journey, charge cables and so on. The head of purchasing, who had never set foot on the Hub, had suggested adding certain touristy items such as fridge magnets, tea towels and clothes but the CEO had shot down the idea, it was a work platform, not a stop on the way to some sunkissed holiday destination. And anyway, who would want to spend money on a “Dad went to the Space Hub and all he bought me was this lousy (fill in the blank)” t-shirt, mug or magnet?
Collecting the tablet from central control along with a wireless headset, Conrad headed to the docks to manage the first group of departures, no commercial passenger flights, all either cargo ships, transports taking workers to Moon bases, Mars colonies or mining units on Mercury or debris collectors responsible for gathering up the vast amounts of abandoned space junk which had been sorted at remote sites and taking it back to Earth if it could be repurposed.
He checked the radio frequencies for each of the ships due for takeoff and unmuted his microphone, calling the first on his list. “Sierra-Four-Five, cargo supply ship, this is Controller Barnes. You’re up for takeoff from bay Delta Three-Three. Direction Moonbase Alpha? Confirmed?”
“Controller Barnes, this is Sierra-Four-Five. Confirmation of direction and bay Delta-Three-Three.” replied the pilot, waving from his cockpit.
“Connect to comms channel six for exit guidance system. ARM?”
“ARM. Connecting to channel.”
At a nod from Conrad, the bright orange revolving lights flashed, the launch warning bell sounded and the ground controller driving a tug truck began to push the cargo ship into position, unhitching the truck and securing it in place at the rear of the launch bay once the ship was facing the inner exit door. Each bay had an outer and inner door large enough for ships to enter and dock, one opening out onto space and one onto the bay. A further pair of secure airlock doors for crews led from the bay to the Hub. The safety protocols, which could not be overriden, dictated that ships be manoeuvered into launch position while both inner and outer bay doors were closed. As soon as ships were in position, all personnel evacuated the bay, closing and locking the airlock security doors. As soon as the doors were sealed, the inner exit door opened, ships would proceed to the launch platform and, once in position, the inner door would slide shut and the outer door would open and the ship could safely launch without endangering the ground crew and controllers.
Sierra-Four-Five being safely away, Conrad repeated the same procedure for November-Victor-Nine-Six, direction Mercury mining unit and the five other ships on the departure manifest for the morning. Shortly before lunch, he oversaw the arrival and landing of three container ships, one of which required a more robust, armoured launch bay because of the nature of its cargo. On his way up to the control centre, he stopped off to buy something to eat, not feeling particularly hungry but knowing that he would need some sustenance for the rest of the day. Nothing really jumped out at him so he picked what he often chose, a chicken caesar salad wrap, sea salt and cider vinegar crisps and a skyr and granola dessert.
The afternoon was going as usual for the three men in the control room, Conrad, Charles and Mike, no incidents and nothing of note to report.
“This is Echo-One-Nine, requesting docking.”
“Echo-One-Nine, proceed to Dock Seven. Engage guidance system.” replied Conrad, watching as the ship moved into the correct trajectory for landing, when suddenly the controllers received a distress call.
“Emergency! This is Transport Alpha-Nine-Nine!”
“I read you, Nine-Nine, what’s the problem?”
“Our engine controls are failing, request immediate clearance to dock.”
“Copy that. Bay Two-One is nearest. I’ll clear you a path. Attention all space traffic, all ships divert from Bay Two-One and await further instructions.”
He watched as the ships approaching followed instructions and moved away. Nodding, Conrad murmured, “Good.”
Next moment, however, alarm signals sounded and screens indicated an incoming ship. “Bravo-Two-Four, I gave an order to divert!”
“Sorry Control, missed that. We’re getting a lot of interference.”
“You have to change course. Divert to Bay Two-Two. Two-Four, do you copy?”
“Copy that, but it’s gonna be tight!”
Conrad, Charles and Mike stared at the screens, hoping that Bravo-Two-Four would be able to land safely.
“No! No, no, no, no, no!” cried Conrad as a sudden vibration shook the Hub.
“Control? We made it but we hit something. How bad is it?”
Conrad looked at the screens and readouts, “Core is breached, coolant system is offline. We’re going into meltdown.”
Charles and Mike hurried from the control room to head to the muster stations and prepare the evac chutes and shuttles.
“Space Hub One? Come in! This is International Rescue. I’ve been monitoring your transmissions, do you need assistance?” John called over to Conrad.
“This is Controller Conrad. Our core is ruptured, the coolant unit is leaking and we’re going into meltdown. Apart from that, everything is fine.” he replied.
“You have an evac in progress.”
“Yeah, I’m driving the power controls to buy time until everyone’s out, but I’m only delaying the meltdown. I can’t stop it.”
John scrambled Alan who launched Thunderbird Three in record time, arriving at the Hub and carrying out his preliminary report, indicating that Conrad’s escape exit was compromised and that he couldn’t find another route in.
While he was unable to open the doors, Alan did manage to rig a connection to Thunderbird Three’s life support so at least Conrad wouldn’t asphyxiate while Brains, Scott and Virgil came up with a solution for the rescue.
“I’d invite you in but the place is a bit of a mess.” joked Conrad, once Alan had managed to activate a comms unit.
According to Brains, there was only one option to avoiding the meltdown - delivering a replacement coolant unit. However, Thunderbird Three could not be recalled to Earth to collect it without disconnecting Conrad’s life support. Therefore, the proposal was to convert Thunderbird Two from a Terrestrial to a Space craft, much to Virgil’s delight and Scott’s reluctance. The damaged unit was, luckily, exactly the same as one used on Tracy Island of which Brains had a backup so he could easily part with it temporarily, so long as they could bring back the damaged unit from the Hub for safe disposal.
Virgil and Alan managed to replace the cooling system, restoring power and stabilising the Hub’s systems, and while Alan remained behind to wait for the arrival of the repair crew, Virgil prepared to fly home with Conrad.
Re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere was more problematic than expected, Thunderbird Two’s heat shields, having already sustained damage on the outbound flight, were insufficient to protect them for the return journey. Scott urged Virgil and Conrad to eject and simply allow Thunderbird Two to burn up, it was just a machine which could easily be rebuilt.
Virgil refused, since they were carrying the old coolant unit which, if it exploded would release a devastating amount of toxic chemicals. Conrad suddenly had a brainwave, sprinting from the cockpit and down to the pod, colliding with corners and doorframes on the way. Although the unit no longer contained coolant enough for the entire Hub, it had just enough in its tank to freeze the Thunderbird’s hull, hopefully for long enough to get them through the worst of the outer atmosphere.
They splashed down, miraculously in one piece, and as Thunderbird Two rested briefly on a submerged sand bar while the boyancy balloons inflated to take them back to the surface, Virgil and Conrad laughed in relief. Gordon arrived shortly afterwards in case he was needed to tow the Thunderbird back to the Island and they checked in with Alan who let them know that the repair crew had launched from Space Hub’s New Zealand base in Wellington. Virgil ran a series of systems checks and called Brains.
“As expected, Thunderbird Two’s engines are too waterlogged to restart so we need to rig a system to get us back to the hangar.”
The cockpit was warm again after the icy chill circulated by the cooling unit so Conrad had taken off his helmet and gloves and was leaning his head back, eyes closed, running his fingers through his hair. “Stonehenge.” he said pensively.
“Stonehenge?” replied Virgil, along with Brains, Scott and Gordon who were listening in.
“Yes, moving those dolmens and menhirs around, they used tree trunks as rollers, pulling the stones along with rope, reusing the rollers, grabbing them from the back and running around, putting them at the front so if you have something lying around in your warehouse or storage that could do that. Or a boat launch, do live anywhere near water where you could get hold of one?”
“Near water? Yeah, we live on an island. That’s not public record though.” replied Virgil.
Resting his head against the seat, Conrad looked around the cockpit, languidly twirling his helmet.
“Do all these buttons actually have a function? I mean do they all do something or are they just set dressing to make it look impressive?”
“Hey!” laughed Virgil, “I thought you liked my ‘bird the best, now you’re being mean about her!”
Conrad smiled and swung his legs around in his seat so he was leaning his left side against the back rest and facing Virgil. Their eyes met and they held each other’s gaze in silence for a few seconds.
“She’s an amazing feat of engineering.” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Beautiful.”
“Conrad?” Virgil asked, concerned, “Are you okay?”
“Mm-hm. Just- just tired all of a sudden. I’ll be okay in a minute.” he replied, the blood seeming to quickly drain from his face.
Holding his lower lip between his teeth, Virgil moved towards Conrad, undecided whether or not to pull out his handheld med scanner. Placing the fingers of his left hand on Conrad’s right wrist to measure his pulse, Virgil was relieved to find it strong and steady and as Conrad stirred after a moment, Virgil sat back making a mental note to keep an eye on their guest for however long he would be with them.
Scott and Brains had set to work, with assistance from Max, using various components from Thunderbird Two’s many Pods and by the time Gordon had towed Thunderbird Two into position, there was a ramp gently sloping into the water at the end of its usual runway with an adapted submerged elevator car. It had flotation tanks attached, partly filled, to give it balance under the surface and Brains carefully navigated it under the centre of Thunderbird Two, activating the electromagnets he had installed which attached it to the cahelium hull. The trees had folded down, the hangar door was raised and long lengths of chain and wire rope were stretched along the runway, attached to a hydraulic crane in the hangar.
Virgil opened the ceiling hatch and activated the elevating platform, raising it until his head and shoulders were out of the cockpit and in the fresh air.
“How are you planning on getting us from here to there?” he yelled across to Scott, standing next to Brains at the end of the runway and pointing to where they were bobbing in the shallower water.
“Hold that thought!” Scott yelled back, as John remotely flew Thunderbird One round the island, hovering over the runway for Scott and Brains to attach the rope ends to a winch hook dangling from the fuselage. Gordon had surfaced in Thunderbird Four and had swum round from the aft hatch to sit on the roof of his floating submarine, watching the progress.
Thunderbird One rose and moved to hover over Thunderbird Two as Virgil hoisted himself out and walked back and forward across the roof, trying to decide which anchor points would be best to attach the wire ropes to, having already decided that hitching anything to the variable auxiliary intake would likely rip it to pieces, requiring a significant amount of repair. Gordon had showily swan dived off Thunderbird Four and was leisurely treading water, examining the hull.
“How’s it looking down there?” called Virgil.
“Gimme a sec!” Gordon replied, taking a deep breath and diving below the surface. Conrad had joined Virgil on the roof, wondering whether he ought really to just keep out of the way. He looked over the side and began to frown.
“Shouldn’t Gordon have resurfaced by now?”
“I’ve always suspected he’s part dolphin, the amount of time he can stay under for.”
“Don’t dolphins need air to breathe though? They don’t have gills.”
Before the pair could get distracted by the fish versus water mammal debate, Gordon splashed to the surface.
“I assume we’re hitching to Thunderbird Two rather than the elevator car? If we can detach the heat shield, you can probably hook up around the forward VTOL thrusters and onto the chassis, unless Brains reckons the shield’s bolted on tight enough to put up with towing. We can hitch up around the aft primary thrust nozzles if you want four separate points of connection or do we cross cables underneath for a more supported lift?”
Discussions batted back and forward until they decided that they would hook onto the heatshield and the thrust nozzles. John lowered the winch and Gordon grabbed the rope ends, diving down to attach them as agreed, resurfacing and giving a thumbs up. Virgil and Conrad dropped back down into the cockpit, closing the hatch and strapping in as Gordon fired up his engines and moved back out of the tow zone.
The crane was a bit squeaky but nonetheless slowly and easily dragged Thunderbird Two up the ramp and onto dry land where Brains was able to fire the elevator car engine and remotely drive the stricken cargo ship into its hangar. He brought it to a stop over the turntable and called to Virgil to engage manual controls and deploy the hydraulic legs to get the Thunderbird standing up. Once it was in a stable position, Brains removed the elevator car, which would need a thorough drying out and probably new suspension, so that Virgil could drop the Pod and open all hatches to let the water run out of his engines and storage compartments. Given that most of the sensors and electrodes were damp, they weren’t necessarily the most reliable so Virgil decided to just switch everything off and come back another time.
On the ground, Brains had already opened up the Pod and was scanning the coolant unit to see what, if any, of it could be reused or if he would have to meticulously dispose of the whole thing. Virgil and Conrad stopped to chat, Virgil staring at the the unit and wondering how Conrad had managed to hook the pipes up to the Thunderbird’s cooling system.
“Those things are super heavy! How did you even manage to lift them?” he asked in awe.
“They’re not that heavy, are they? Just bulky really. Hooking them up while we were being so shaken by the turbulence was the bigger challenge.”
“I’m impressed you were able to make it work – that was some seriously quick thinking.”
Conrad smiled, embarrassed by the compliment, and followed Virgil as he led the way up to the villa.
“Are you hungry?” he called over his shoulder, turning a corner into the sunny kitchen. “Take a seat and I’ll get some coffee on.”
He waved at the table and searched one of the cupboards for his jar of coffee grounds.
Scott joined them, “Or, Virgil, how about I make the coffee and you go get changed out of your flight suit?”
Patting his brother’s shoulder as he passed, Virgil headed in the direction of the bedrooms, walking slowly and looking forward to a hot shower and solitude to think. With such a large, active family and a high level of busy-ness, it was often difficult to find time apart to mull and meditate. Locking his bedroom door, he unbuckled his boots and kicked them off, shrugged off his suit and stuffed it into the laundry chute then turned on the rain shower. Stepping under the water, he rotated his shoulders to ease the stiffness that had set in and leaned forward, resting first his hands then his forehead flat against the cold tile, groaning as he felt his mind running a mile a minute. Closing his eyes, fresh memories of the day flashed before him, most frequently Conrad smiling and the sound of his laughter.
It took Virgil’s breath away that he should be feeling such an instant connection and whether it was an actual attraction to Conrad, he wasn’t sure. After the painful breakup of his last and only real relationship, he had worked hard to make his heart invulnerable, never getting too close, keeping away from anyone and anything which might open him up to more pain. It wasn’t the first time he had felt that spark, but usually it faded quickly enough and with any luck Conrad would be gone within twenty four hours and that would be that.
“No Virgil”, he thought, raising his face to the shower and letting the hot water splash over him. “No letting our guard down. No getting involved. That’s what we agreed.”
He turned off the shower and half dried his hair, enough for it to maintain its pointy shape but still a little damp, then dressed quickly in his customary white t-shirt, jeans and red shirt. He jogged down towards the lounge, stopping out of sight to take a deep breath and a moment after joining them, they checked in with Alan.
“Good to see you guys, everything up here is stable. Repairs are under way.” he replied.
Conrad sighed regretfully, “If I hadn’t made that mistake, the Hub wouldn’t even need repairs. I should’ve reacted quicker.”
“Hey! Your quick thinking up there saved us, and Thunderbird Two.” said Virgil sharply, unhappy that Conrad should be blaming himself for a cargo ship malfunction which was in no way his fault.
Conrad smiled at him, holding the gaze until Scott asked what his plans were. He fully intended to go back up to the Hub, recent near death experience not withstanding, but first he would go to Slough and see his family for a while, which reminded him he ought to give them a call to let them know he was unharmed.
It was late in the afternoon, which was around breakfast time in Britain, when he started a videocall with any of them who might be available, sitting at the patio table overlooking the pool.
From her seat at the kitchen table, Ianthe leaned towards the camera and frowned. “Where are you? That doesn’t look like the Hub, unless it’s a new background in one of your frames.”
“No, uh… look” Conrad replied, slowing moving his phone to give them a panorama of the island. “Now, everything’s fine, everyone’s alive-”
“Are you on an island? Like, a real one?”
“Yes. There was a slight problem on the Hub, just teeny tiny, barely a scratch but, as I said, everyone’s okay, they’re repairing it as we speak so it’ll be good as new.” Conrad proceeded to give a brief summary of what had happened.
“Oh. My. God!” cried Rowan, “This is totally what I was saying. Safe as houses my arse!”
“It is safe!” Conrad insisted. “And the likelihood of it happening again is near zero.”
“But not zero.” said Ianthe. “Now, when are you coming home?”
“Um, tomorrow, I think. It’ll depend on when they can drop me at the mainland airport nearest here. Wellington, I guess, or Auckland.”
“We can fly you home, no problem.” said Virgil, walking from the kitchen with a large tumbler of water and a bowl of potato chips, handing Conrad the glass and leaving the bowl on the table.
“That’s kind, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble.” replied Conrad smiling up at him.
“Look, I have to go, I’ve got to be at the hospital in about half an hour but I’ll see you when you’re here.” Jasper waved and disconnected.
Virgil had returned to the villa and found sundry tasks to keep him hovering near the door until Scott gave a huffy sigh.
“Either go out there and sit down next to him and talk or stay in here and do something useful.” he hissed, waving a towel in the direction of drying dishes.
A minute or two later Conrad finished his call and came into the kitchen to refill his glass.
“I’ll get a right telling off from all of them when I get home. They’re always worried about me being on the Hub. Is there anything I can be doing to help with dinner or something, I do feel like I’m imposing.”
“It’s no imposition, Conrad, and we’re all very happy to have you here.” she said with a smile and a tighter hug than he expected. “How about you relax in the sunshine out there?” she suggested, giving him a gentle push back towards the patio, turning to Virgil and raising her eyebrows, jerking her head in Conrad’s direction. With a small smile, Virgil dutifully followed their guest.
After a dinner of fresh carbonara pasta, garlic breads and salads, the family and Conrad relaxed in the sunken lounge. Around the round coffee table there were three two-seater sofas, two pairs of armchairs and a single soft armchair matching one of the sofas, Virgil was on dishwasher duty and by the time he arrived in the lounge, where the vexed question of what movie to watch was still unanswered, there were only a couple of seats spare on the sofas which gave the best view of the screen. Sally was sitting next to Conrad who had his hands out, wrapped round with the wool that she was winding into a ball for her next crochet project, pattern as yet undecided but she had seen the chunky rainbow yarn on special offer and bought half a dozen balls in preparation.
Scott was lying on another sofa, an arm curled under his head with a book in his free hand, on the verge of dozing off. The sets of individual armchairs, one pair of which were part of the Thunderbird Three launch sequence, were comfortable enough but not really so convenient for a lazy movie night which left only one spare sofa. Virgil flopped down, glancing over at Conrad and Sally chatting.
“So have we made a decision?” asked Gordon, joining them and scanning the room for a seat.
“Not that I’m aware, and as I’m flying to New York first thing tomorrow, I think I ought to get some rest so goodnight all, see you when I get back.” said Scott, jumping to his feet and leaving for his room, patting Gordon on the stomach as he passed. The aquanaut vaulted over the back of the sofa Scott had been sprawled across and snuggled down murmuring about the niceness of pre-warmed cushions. Virgil managed not to scowl at being denied a space closer to Conrad, consoling himself that, with a shift in his posture, he could look over at him without being noticed, particularly once the lights would be dimmed for the movie. Perhaps Conrad sensed he was being watched, but he glanced around for a moment, caught Virgil’s eye and smiled which made his heart rate jump. In confusion, Virgil busied himself with his left sock which had a hole in the toe.
Gordon was the family’s champion movie picker, with an ability to almost always choose exactly what they were in the mood for so he selected an action comedy, one they had watched many times already but still made them laugh, and while he set up the holoscreen and scrolled through the previews Sally went down to the kitchen to make two huge bowls of popcorn. Virgil jogged up to his room returning a couple of minutes later having switched his contact lenses for glasses. Conrad opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it.
“What?” asked Virgil.
“No, nothing. I was about to start a very dead end conversation. You know, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you wore glasses.’ ‘Oh well, as a matter of fact, yes I do so now you know.’ End of conversation.” he said with a short laugh.
“I try watching a whole movie without lenses or glasses my eyes will be bloodshot and stinging to hell in the morning.”
A little over an hour later, Alan returned from the Hub, letting Conrad know that everything would be back to working order and operations would, normally, be able to resume in 48 hours. Tired and hungry, he went to the kitchen and helped himself to leftovers then crept softly up the stairs towards his room, waving at his family as he passed. When Gordon checked in on him no more than forty minutes later, he found him sprawled untidily on the floor and fast asleep as so often happened. Tucking a pillow under his head and pulling the duvet from the bed, he tucked it around his younger brother, tiptoeing away without waking him.
As the end credits rolled, Sally stood and stretched. Virgil had at some point during the movie shifted from sitting up to lying down and had dozed off.
“Conrad!” Gordon whispered, beckoning him over. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, anything.”
“I put my back out a few days ago on a mission and Dr Tracy, aka Grandma, has forbidden heavy lifting. Is there a way you could help me get Virgil up to his room?”
“Okay, although wouldn’t it be easier just to wake him?” asked Conrad.
Gordon gave a soft snort of laughter in answer.
“Ah, the proverbial log sleeper, is he? Um, alright then.”
Walking over to the sofa on which Virgil slept soundly, Conrad crouched down and wrapped Virgil’s left arm around his neck to give him easier access to slide his arms under his shoulders and knees. Getting himself balanced, he stood, lifting Virgil and following Gordon – who was impressed that Conrad could lift his big brother with such apparent ease - from the lounge and up the stairs to the bedrooms. Gordon opened Virgil’s door and moved over to where the wide single bed stood, pulling the duvet down. Conrad walked around the bed and gently lowered Virgil who barely stirred when his body met the cool sheet.
Conrad looked at Gordon and whispered “Glasses?”
“Yeah, I’ll take it from here. Thanks.” he replied, waiting until Conrad had left to carefully peel Virgil’s red shirt and thick blue jeans off, covering him back up with the thin duvet and a blue and red plaid blanket. The brothers had all done this for each other at some point, even Alan had helped put Scott to bed once or twice when he had burned himself out of energy entirely and been found unconscious at the desk, so there was no embarrassment or humiliation about it. The glasses were placed on the bedside table where Gordon knew his brother would look first and he opened the sliding balcony door a couple of inches to let in the cool breeze he knew Virgil needed when sleeping.
Out on the landing, Conrad met Sally who had a small bundle of clothes tucked under her arm and invited him to follow her down to one of the guest bedrooms.
“Now, you only have what clothes you’re standing up in so I’ve trawled through my spares closet. Here are some clean pyjamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow if you want to use them. There’s a new toothbrush and what have you in the bathroom through that door. Scott and I may have left by the time you wake tomorrow so, again, thank you for keeping Virgil safe. I don’t know how we’d get by without him. Help yourself to whatever you need and I hope to see you again soon.”
Conrad smiled and thanked Sally for her warm welcome as she rose on her toes to hug him and plant a kiss on his brow. Softly closing the door, he looked around the room, noting that he had a double bed whereas Virgil seemed to sleep in a single, which struck him as odd but he supposed the family must have moved here when the brothers were much younger and the idea of wives and girlfriends was far in the future. The guest room also had a two seater sofa with a blue and turquoise throw blanket draped over the back; there was even a balcony and pulling back the curtain, he looked out and saw the waxing gibbous moon reflected on the distant rippling waves. Feeling sleepy, but not physically tired enough for bed, he wrapped himself up in the blanket and sank down onto the outdoor armchair, the night air cooling his warm face. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to order his thoughts. Usually when his brain was this fizzy and full of activity he would go to the gym and run as many miles as it took for his hands to start shaking and then one mile more but he wasn’t aware of there being a treadmill on the island, although there must be some fitness equipment somewhere. He also had no knowledge of the island’s geography and wasn’t about to risk himself by going for a midnight jog in the dark without proper running shoes.
Shapes flitted around in the dark sky, bats more than likely, he thought to himself. The island, or at least the parts of it he had seen in the few hours he had been there, was beautiful but entirely remote and impractical. Surely they must feel quite isolated with no other land in sight. What about those days when no-one feels like cooking? No way of calling in a home delivery order. How about a social life? Certainly Scott would be travelling a lot since he was company head for Tracy Industries, but what about the others? What did they do about friends? Or lovers. The villa was spacious and open plan, probably the only rooms with doors were the bedrooms so not a huge selection of private corners for stolen moments. Did all the brothers have single beds like Virgil, Conrad wondered.
Conrad stared at the turn his mind had taken, particularly since his thoughts included images of Virgil’s sleeping face. He gripped the blanket more firmly with both hands, scolding himself for almost allowing himself to start fantasising about Virgil. No doubt all of the iR team had to deal with their rescuees getting all dewy eyed about them, he dreaded to think about the fan mail they must receive on a daily basis.
“If I don’t try going to sleep now, I never will tonight.” he said, standing and giving himself a little shake.
As he undressed and picked up the pyjamas, he wondered briefly who the original owner was, judging from the size probably not Gordon or Alan, but tiredness was finally stealing over him so he quickly finished getting changed, cleaned his teeth, washed his face and promised himself he’d try out the shower when he woke. The bed was comfortable, more so than the one he slept in on the Hub, and within minutes, he was sound asleep, his internal clock waking him just before seven the following morning. He had left the curtain pulled back and the sky outside was streaked vibrant orange. Climbing from the bed, he walked over to the balcony doors and slid them open, taking a step outside, startling an unusual looking bird who had perched on the balcony rail.
Returning inside, he tried out the shower, much superior to both the Hub and the bathroom in Slough, and rubbed his stubbly face, wondering whether a razor might be tucked in the wall cabinet. Having a successful rummage, finding the razor and a bar of soap, he shaved and combed his hair then dressed in the borrowed clothes and quietly left his room to go downstairs to the kitchen and make a brew of coffee.
A little over twenty minutes later, Virgil clumped down the stairs, still in pyjamas, his hair ruffled from sleep, eyes barely open. Usually he'd have put his contact lenses in before coming down but hunger and the need for coffee was strong so he had grabbed his glasses instead.
"Is that proper coffee?" he called from the foot of the kitchen stairs. "It smells so good I could kiss yo- oh, uh... Good morning Conrad... Uhm."
Conrad smiled across at Virgil.
"A kiss won't be necessary, just a thank you will do. I used to work at a coffee shop while doing my training for space control. Here."
He handed a steaming mug to Virgil, their fingers accidentally touching, their eyes met and both smiled awkwardly.
Turning to sit down, trying to hide the blush rushing to his cheeks and ignore his raised heart beat, Virgil sipped the coffee.
"Delicious. Thank you."
"You're welcome." replied Conrad, sneaking a look over his shoulder at the tousled first responder with those deep brown eyes. “I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping, I did ask your grandmother before she and Scott left about rummaging through your kitchen cupboards.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s today.” said Virgil.
Scott and Sally had flown to New York before dawn for one of the board meetings Scott had to attend as CEO of Tracy Industries and, in Sally’s case, a medical appointment. A recent round of standard blood and medical tests had yielded some inconclusive results. She had reassured her family that she felt absolutely fine, but to her grandsons, having experienced so much loss in their lives, even the slightest possibility that her health might be affected in any way made them all anxious and none of them would rest easy until she had seen a specialist.
Alan was still asleep after his late night, Gordon was at home, the standby pilot for Thunderbird One if John had too much to handle to remotely pilot it. Scott wasn’t too keen on the idea but they were all fully trained to operate every Thunderbird and the contents of each Pod, so whenever any of the brothers was incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, they had enough skill bases covered to handle any rescue. It wouldn’t be ideal perhaps, and sometimes it was preferable to simply come offline and hand over to the GDF and local units rather than be understaffed and underequipped.
“I’m sorry we’re so short staffed we can’t fly you home until later.” Virgil continued. “I think it’s just you, me, Brains and Gordon here, Kayo was at a friend’s bachelorette party in London these past two days and is staying over with Lady Penelope. Will you be okay to wait until tomorrow? I mean… not that you have a huge choice, but-”
“How far is the mainland, a swimmable distance?” he asked innocently.
“Are you kidding me? Can you see the main- oh, you are kidding me.” Virgil grinned.
“It’s fine, really. I’ll just need to borrow a bit of desk space to fill in my reports and my boss wants to have a videocall to discuss the situation.” replied Conrad. “I’m making some eggy bread for breakfast, would you like some?”
“Some what?” asked Virgil.
“I think he means French toast.” replied Gordon, joining them in the kitchen having finished his early morning workout routine.
“French toast?” laughed Conrad. “I have cousins living in Brittany so I spent a lot of summers there growing up and not once did I ever see this on a French menu!”
Gordon brewed some green tea and assembled a cocktail of fresh berries with a sprinkle of cinnamon for his toast while Virgil and Conrad went for a second round of coffee and a stack of grilled bacon. Minutes after finishing their meal, John called to request Virgil’s assistance with a rescue on a rickety oil rig.
“Kayo and Lady Penelope are already onsite.”
“What? I thought they were in London!” cried Gordon in alarm.
“Hey, don’t panic. They’re more than able to take care of themselves. They must have Shadow and Parker’s with them so they have all the FAB1 tech as well.” Virgil reassured him, “I’m on my way John!”
Despite Virgil’s optimism, Gordon nonetheless looked concerned, wandering from the kitchen to the steps down to the pool to watch Thunderbird Two launch, only returning to the house once it was out of sight.
“Is it always like this?” asked Conrad. “Worrying about them as long as they’re away?”
“Always. We don’t take unnecessary risks – or at least we try not to – but there are rescues where we come a lot closer to serious trouble than we’d like. Then again, just crossing the road is fraught with danger.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Gordon looked up at Conrad and cocked his head to one side, he knew that his older brother was both very invested in his work for the family organizations and at the same time desperately lonely. Now, in the middle of their home, stood a tall, dark and handsome stranger rescued from space that Virgil couldn’t keep his eyes off and while Gordon enjoyed pranks, he knew how to read a room. If indeed his brother was beginning to relax his vigilance, not before time either, then any potential blossoming of a friendship should be encouraged.
“Where are we?” asked Conrad, changing the subject and looking out over the island to the azure ocean beyond.
“Our nearest neighbors are the Kermadec Islands.”
“Oh, good. That clears that up. Thank you.” replied Conrad brightly.
Gordon laughed, “You have no idea where the Kermadecs are, do you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Think New Zealand and… Actually, do you wanna see the islands more closely?”
“Sure, but don’t you have to stay here until the rescue’s over, in case they need your help?”
“They have Thunderbird Two and Shadow, along with FAB1 and John can remotely pilot Thunderbird One if they really need it. So… guided tour of the islands?”
“Ready when you are!”
Gordon led the way back into the villa and down flights of stairs to a dock where a small submersible was floating at the end of a metal walkway.
“Four isn’t really built for taking people visiting, there’s only one seat in the main compartment, but I had this designed as a civilian project. It was basically just to test various materials and mechanical processes but it works well as a sunlight zone submersible. The shell could probably hold up to twilight zone pressure but I wouldn’t want to test it much deeper.”
He led the way through the open top hatch and down a short ladder into the main control cabin which could seat four people and had panoramic windows. What followed was a three hour cruise during which Gordon was delighted to show off the area, introducing Conrad to the different marine species they sailed past. He was also able to answer the mystery of the bird on the balcony.
“Oh, that’s a tūī bird. They’re rare, and special. According to legend, the god Tanemahuta asked all the birds for a volunteer to go to live on the forest floor to eat up all, like, insects and stuff but any bird that volunteered to do so would lose their pretty feathers and the ability to fly. The tūī birds who didn’t volunteer were gifted the little white throat feathers by the gods as a mark of their pride and cowardice.”
“And the bird that volunteered to live on the forest floor became the kiwi?” Conrad guessed.
“Yeah, I love local legends!” grinned Gordon.
Checking the time, he called John and was pleased to hear that the rescue was complete and Virgil and Kayo both on their way home.
“They’re likely gonna be hungry so let’s get cooking!” Gordon suggested as they returned to the island.
As it was a warm January day, they prepared the ingredients for various different bruschetta toppings along with large bowls of fresh green mixed salad and dressings, the actually cooking wouldn’t take long once the rescuers had returned and changed into casual gear. Scott had informed John and Gordon that he and Grandma were on their way home, meetings complete and with a clean bill of health, but would not likely be there in time to eat with everyone else.
---
One of the downsides of his family living in Slough, Conrad recalled, was usually it was a serious pain in the arse to get there from any of the local airports. London Heathrow was the closest and there were no direct trains from there. For some stupid reason, he would either have to take the Heathrow shuttle to Paddington station and then grab a train out from there, or try to avoid London entirely by getting off at Hayes & Harlington station for a connecting train. It was the 2060s, he thought incredulously, why was it so complicated? That was until Scott had a brainwave. There was a meeting coming up with one of their global manufacturing partners in the UK and since the purpose of the meeting was more in line with Virgil’s engineering experience, why not?
“Conrad’s wanting to head home and the office is in Reading so just down the road. You could drop him off on your way? Take the Microjet?”
Virgil thought for a moment. “Ok, sure, you good to go after breakfast tomorrow?”
Conrad nodded, hoping to get home as soon as possible, if for no other reason than he had no spare clothes and he quickly fired a text to his mother to let her know when to expect him. He usually spent most of his working time up on the space hub, only returning to Earth a few days each month to his parents’ home in the Salt Hill district while he saved up for a downpayment on his own flat. He paid them a small amount each month as contribution to rent, utilities and food, as did Ianthe who lived there full time. His brothers, Rowan and Jasper, shared a flat in Langley, about ten minutes drive from the family home. There was still plenty of space for all of them in the three storey house with its original six bedrooms, but the eldest boys had both felt more relaxed with a place of their own just as long as they could drop in on Mum and Dad for Sunday lunch – work schedules permitting.
The detached three storey house was large, with a kitchen-dining room, large living room and a small study on the ground floor. On the first floor were four bedrooms and a bathroom and the second floor had two large rooms, each stretching the width of the house, and a small shower room and separate toilet. Originally, they had been Rowan and Jasper’s rooms but when they had moved out, and Ianthe had requested to stay on, they all agreed that she should move to the top floor and turn one of the bedrooms into her own lounge space.
It took less than five hours aboard the microjet to make the journey from Tracy Island to the private jet terminal at Heathrow, landing early in the evening, and if either Virgil or Conrad had been concerned about an awkward atmosphere alone together, those concerns were unfounded. There were no long, uncomfortable silences, no having to explain punchlines of jokes. Their conversations, such as they were, were not deep and philosophical and it wasn’t as though they were making an effort to get to know each other, both assuming that when they said goodbye, that would be it. Virgil had arranged for a hire car from the airport and was happy to drop Conrad at home before driving on to Reading and the hotel the local office administrator had booked.
Virgil stopped the car outside Conrad’s house with some difficulty given the unusually high number of cars parked on both sides of the road. It was December which meant his parents had decorated their front garden with their usual Christmas ornaments, each several feet high, illuminated and frankly gaudy but the neighbours loved them and frequently stopped by to take selfies.
“Thank you again, for everything.” he smiled.
Virgil gave a self deprecating shrug, “That’s what we’re here for. Take care of yourself. Have a great Christmas and New Years?”
“Will do. You too!”
They paused, shook hands – the car was a compact mini cooper so not much room for hugging, and with a wave over his shoulder, Conrad walked away up the path to his front door. Virgil watched for a second until he was sure Conrad was out of sight, then with a sigh of relief, he rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment, sat up, started the engine and drove away.
Conrad automatically patted his pockets before realising he’d left his keys, along with his phone, up on the space hub. His press on the doorbell was answered within seconds by his mother Joanne who flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Conrad could hear music and voices from the lounge and assumed his parents were throwing a Christmas party for the neighbours.
“Hi guys. Oh! Sorry, don’t mean to intrude, I’ll just head up to my room.” smiled Conrad, moving towards the staircase.
“No Conrad, this party is for you.” called Ianthe from the lounge doorway, hurrying to him.
“Me? Why?” he replied, dropping his bag by the door and walking to the lounge, stopping abruptly when he saw that not only his parents and siblings were there, but also those of his grandparents, aunts and uncles who lived nearby.
“Coz you’re fucking legend. That’s why.” replied Rowan, the firefighter, who at 6’6” stood four inches taller than Conrad and considerably broader across the shoulders. He pulled Conrad into a warm hug and softly clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” added Jasper, the paramedic brother, “Gaily sacrificing yourself so your colleagues would be able to get out safely and make it back to Earth in one piece? That’s, like, superheroic stuff, bro.”
“Oh, that. Right.” replied Conrad awkwardly, turning to his sister. “Is Tom coming so I can congratulate both of you on the engagement?”
“Nope, told him to piss off.”
“What?”
“Not permanently, just tonight. I know he’s technically on his way to becoming family but I wanted it to be just us tonight. Also, it’s Thursday so his kids have school tomorrow and Archie has cub camp this weekend.”
Excusing himself for a few minutes, Conrad retrieved his bag from the hall and jogged up to his room to change out of his space suit – he had returned the borrowed clothes with thanks before leaving Tracy Island. Thinking for a moment that the bed in his room was larger than Virgil’s, he stopped, ran his fingers through his hair and tried some meditative deep breathing. So, yes, he met a really charming, funny and good looking guy but said guy rescued people every day and there was nothing special about him, Conrad, to mark him out from the hundreds of other people who crossed iR’s path on a daily basis. It was nice while it lasted but he had to face reality, and that reality was that – short of drilling a hole in one of the Space Hub’s outer walls - there was no scenario where he would meet Virgil again, lightning never really strikes twice.
While he felt a little embarrassed about being the centre of attention at the family party, it was nevertheless an enjoyable evening since he never spent as much time with them as he really wanted, despite them living so near to one another and soon Ianthe would be preparing to move away from Slough entirely, to go down to Cambridgeshire once she married.
---
Jasper was first up the next morning and was already preparing breakfast in the kitchen with music playing from his bluetooth speaker. Given their day jobs, healthy eating and plenty of exercise were usually the order of the day. The only exception, though, was that day in a blue moon when Jasper felt like cooking up a full English breakfast. Today was that day. He padded around the kitchen, wearing pyjama trousers and an old tshirt from one of his many fundraising running races, fetching sausages and bacon from the fridge, a loaf of sliced bread and tins of baked beans from one of the cupboards. He turned to look over his shoulder when he heard footsteps, and grinned at Conrad who had slept like a log and was now in search of a drink, tea or coffee, whichever was quicker.
“Coffee’s made, no guarantee of quality but there’s lots of it, I prioritised quantity.”
Conrad smiled back, poured himself a large mugful and took a sip.
“So?” asked Jasper.
“Honest truth?”
“Maybe?”
“Nice.”
“That bad, eh? You hungry?”
“Starving. Um. Just, er, question. What you said last night?”
Jasper looked at him, perplexed, not sure what of the many things he’d said the previous evening Conrad was referring to.
“You said… gaily. It’s just… Did you mean gaily? Because, look, the thing is…. I’m…” Conrad took a deep, shaky breath and lowered his voice a little. “Jas, I’m gay.”
“Yeah, we know.” his brother replied nonchalantly, tearing open a pack of sausages.
“‘We’?” Conrad asked in surprise.
“Uh huh.” said Rowan, entering the kitchen, also wearing pyjamas, hair sticking up in all directions, rubbing his eyes.
“You think we didn’t know?” asked Ianthe with a gentle smile, having crept down the stairs after Rowan.
Conrad laughed in relief, “You all know I’m gay!”
“As a fucking picnic basket, mate!” chuckled Jasper, handing the coffee pot and a mug to Ianthe.
“I can’t believe you guys never said anything.”
“Babe, are you kidding?” asked Ianthe, sitting down at the kitchen table, trying to rub a few last traces of mascara from her eyelashes. “In all your 24 years, you’ve never talked about girls, shown any interest in girls whatever.”
“Yeah, and the posters that you plastered around your bedroom growing up? We’ve all known since you were, like, twelve. So although we knew, it wasn’t kind or fair of us to force you to say anything if you didn’t know or weren’t ready so we just decided to give you time.” said Rowan, slotting bread into the toaster and pressing the on switch.
“I’m sorry I never told you earlier.”
“Was it us? Me and Mum?” asked Graham from the kitchen doorway where he was leaning against the frame. “I’m so sorry if it was, that we said or did something to make you think you couldn’t come out and, well, come out.”
“No, Dad, it’s not you. It’s… I can’t explain it.”
Graham walked across and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “No explanation needed. You’re loved by this family more than we can say.”
“So…” began Ianthe with a mischievous twinkle. “You have your eye on someone?”
“Ianthe!” yelped the three brothers in unison.
“He hasn’t said no.” she grinned.
“If the conversation is going in that direction, I’ll retire.” said Graham, bending down to kiss Conrad’s head and leaving the kitchen carrying two steaming coffee mugs.
“Do you though?” asked Rowan, wiggling his eyebrows and sitting down opposite Conrad.
“You two are incorrigible.” said Jasper sternly, gently thwacking Rowan’s arm with the plastic spatula he was holding.
“I-” said Conrad, pausing to think and sigh a little. “I’m not… in love or whatever… with… him. I barely know him.”
“Oh, but there is total crushing going on though, yeah? Whoever he is you fancy him?” his sister said with glee.
“Alright, yes, miss nosey, if you must know. Yes, I’m attracted to him, but I don’t imagine that I’ll ever bump into him again and I didn’t catch gay vibes from him. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”
“Wait, what mistake?” asked Rowan, draining his coffee cup and standing to refill the kettle for another brew.
“I didn’t know you’d had a boyfriend.” said Ianthe.
“Obviously I don’t tell you everything. And it doesn’t count. Not really.” Conrad sighed and looked at his siblings, for some reason, since telling them what they already knew about his sexuality, he was seeing them in a new light. Their expressions were looks of concern for whatever had happened to their little brother.
“You don’t have to tell us.” said Jasper, handing him a plate with two slices of toast and a tub of margarine with a butter knife sticking in the top.
Conrad thought for a few seconds, this was something he had kept to himself and told no-one about, a pain he had carried for years and never shared so speaking about it now was, he expected, going to hurt.
“It was a couple of years ago, during basic training for the Hub. Matthew had been flirting with me, I thought, for weeks and I had been clumsily flirting back. I thought I knew how he felt so I told him I was falling in love with him and he…. Laughed. It was all part of some bet he had with his buddies. And he said some really horrific things.”
“What did he say?” asked Ianthe.
The exact words and slurs Matthew had flung at him were etched on his memory and he was able to recite them exactly as they had been said.
“The homophobic fucker!” yelled Ianthe, as her brothers stared at her, wide eyed in shock as she never usually resorted to such language.
Jasper had taken the frying pan off the gas while Conrad was talking so he could sit on the chair next to him and not be distracted by possibly burning breakfast. Resting a hand on Conrad’s shoulder, he smiled gently.
“You’re in a uniquely privileged position, you know?”
Conrad frowned, uncomprehending.
“You see, Ianthe has access to databases. She could find this arsehole in a second.”
“Ooh, yeah.” she replied, “Then Jasper can kill him and make it look like natural causes, Rowan can burn all the evidence without it looking like arson-”
“And Ianthe can hide the body where the police will never look. Go team!” laughed Rowan, high fiving his siblings, making Conrad laugh.
Jasper, who already had an arm around Conrad’s shoulder, shifted his chair back so Rowan could scoot around the table and Ianthe joined them in a tight group hug from which they all retreated with tears in their eyes.
“I’ve gotta take you to Glam with me tonight.” said Ianthe, wiping her eyes and fetching knives and forks as Jasper continued cooking the sausages and bacon, opening and emptying the baked beans into a small saucepan.
“No, Ianthe.” he said reprovingly, “You can’t take your cute gay brother clubbing just to try and blag free drinks from the barman. Aren’t you getting married?”
“Hey! I’m no cheater, but if I can get a free drink, why not?” she replied, sticking out her tongue.
“Anyway,” said Rowan, “I’ve got a gig at the White Harte tonight if you’re interested? Starts at 8?”
The four of them piled their plates high and sat around the kitchen table chatting, Conrad feeling whole and included for the first time. It’s not that his siblings had ever excluded him, on the contrary, but as he had held himself so much in reserve, he had maintained a detachment which he had regretted for a long time. All that was at an end now and their closeness had a warm reassurance to it.
Mid-morning, Rowan left to go home as he had cleaning and laundry to do as well as a rehearsal with his six piece jazz band in the afternoon before the evening at the pub. Ianthe, Jasper and Conrad dug through the huge board games cupboard in the spare room and carried half a dozen boxes down to the dining room and began to play. Graham could hear the howls of laughter from the study where he was listening to a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta through his wireless headphones. Joanne dashed home for a quick lunch with the family in between her morning of music therapy classes at the seniors residential home and her afternoon of teaching at the local community music school.
J asper, Conrad and Ianthe agreed to head to the pub for dinner, and Joanne peered from behind the net curtains as her three children walked down the path to the waiting cab. Even the way her youngest son walked had changed in the past few hours, there was no longer the tentative tread of someone trying not to intrude , he moved more easily and held his head higher.
The White Harte dinner menu was standard pub grub, something Conrad missed when onboard the Space Hub. He ordered a club sandwich with chips, Ianthe and Jasper both opting for different burgers along with just salad for her and both chips and salad for him. On a raised dais, the band had already set up and they were by the bar, munching on a few light snacks and drinking soft drinks.
“Um. I’d offer to buy a round, but I didn’t stop to grab my wallet before evac’ing the Hub.”
“Lame excuse bro, but ok.” grinned Jasper, paying for the drinks the three had ordered and carrying them to the table near the stage area that Ianthe had snagged. The food arrived quickly and Ianthe began to regret her healthy choice. She looked first at Jasper’s plate but he, guessing her thoughts, slowly pulled it out of her reach, shaking his head.
“Awww.” said Conrad in a voice of mock disappointment. “Poor Ianthe. Did you want some chips?”
“Yeah?”
“You can have as many of my chips as you like.” he replied.
“Yay! Really?”
“No, shove off, you can have two.” Conrad laughed, scooping a few onto her plate and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
The live music was excellent, Rowan being a talented guitarist and singer. The band consisted of him as lead guitar, a bassist, drummer, pianist, trumpeter and saxophonist. Halfway through the evening’s set, he adjusted his microphone stand nervously and spoke to everyone assembled.
“Hi, this next number is a bit of a departure from what we usually play, but it’s important to me at least.”
Checking the tuning on his guitar, he continued.
“It’s for this guy over here,” he said, pointing at Conrad. “Most of you have no idea how heroic my little brother who works up on the Space Hub is and just a few days ago, there was a critical malfunction which put everyone’s life in danger. Conrad here held the fort, made sure all his colleagues escaped safely and stayed behind, prepared to give his life up to save the rest of the crew.”
Whatever Rowan had been planning to say next was drowned out by the rousing applause and whistles resounding round the pub and Conrad was pushed to his feet by Ianthe and Jasper. He waved awkwardly then sat back down, his sister putting an arm around his neck and leaning against his shoulder.
Smiling down at Conrad, Rowan began to play, took a breath and sang.
“It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine
You always walked a step behind
So I was the one with all the glory
While you were the one with all the strain
Only a face without a name
I never once heard you complain
Did you ever know that you're my hero
And everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings
It might have appeared to go unnoticed
But I've got it all here in my heart
I want you to know I know the truth
I would be nothing without you
Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be
I could fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings
Fly, fly, fly away, you let me fly so high
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings
Fly, fly, fly high against the sky
So high I almost touch the sky
Thank you, thank you
Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings
Ianthe and Jasper were both in tears, Rowan barely holding on while he sang, and the entire pub applauded again as the song ended.