Chapter Text
Monday 26th May, 2036
When Aaron got home from work at the scrapyard, most of the family was downstairs. He kicked his shoes off in the entryway then glanced at Robert, his handsome husband, who was in the kitchen preparing vegetables for their tea. Aaron sighed, remembering many a lecture about tidiness and tripping hazards, and turned back to put his shoes neatly in the rack. Flash, their old Border collie, trotted over to lick his calf and accept a quick fuss.
As he went on into the living room, Aaron smiled to see Hermione in her chair, playing with a block jigsaw. He paused to kiss her on the top of her head. Flash followed him over, so Hermione put her hand down to the dog. Flash nosed at her palm and sneezed, making her giggle.
Isaac, his and Robert's fourteen-year-old, was hunched forwards on the sofa with his fingers darting over a video game controller. He had a set of earbuds in and was saying:
"I'm gonna crush you. You can't beat me."
"Is that Sammy?" Aaron asked, getting closer. Sammy was fourteen now, too. He had first joined them when he was three, and after a few years back and forth while his family of origin had a very long and extraordinarily messy custody battle, had been living happily with his grandma for the past five years or so. Aaron eagerly held out his hand to Isaac for an earbud. "Can I talk to him?"
Isaac sighed and paused their game. "Sorry, dad wants to interrupt us," he said pointedly to Sammy, before handing over an earbud.
Aaron ignored the sass and held the earbud up to his ear. "Hi, Sammy! How are you getting on?"
"I'm okay!" came Sammy's voice, sounding so very far away. "Roxy is finally getting the hang of her lines."
"About time too," Aaron said. "There's only a month until the play. Do you think you'll all be ready?"
"Yeah, we'll make it," Sammy said confidently. "As long as they finish painting the sets in time."
"I'm glad you're still finding time for Isaac, too. Who's winning your game?" Aaron asked.
"Mee!" Sammy crowed.
"Only because he keeps cheating," Isaac said.
"I'm not cheating !" Sammy snapped back, his voice cracking on the last word.
"'I'm not cheating!'" Isaac squeaked mockingly, even though his own voice was still pre-puberty.
" Isaac! "
"Don't make fun of him," Aaron said sternly. "It's normal for boy's voices to crack while they're settling in. It happens to everyone."
Isaac scowled and turned decisively back to the TV screen, as though Aaron was dismissed. "I want my earbud back."
"Do you think you should apologise to Sammy?" Aaron hinted.
"No, it's okay," said Sammy. "I know he's only teasing. I don't mind."
Aaron assessed the level of Isaac's moodiness. He was glaring at the frozen TV screen, mouth set, his arms crossed. It didn't look like he would budge without a fight, and Aaron decided that since Sammy didn't mind it, this was a battle that he didn't need to pick. "Alright. Be kind to each other though, okay? I'll see you soon, Sammy," Aaron said, reaching up. "Say hi to your nan for me."
"Okay, bye!"
Aaron passed the earbud back to Isaac, who jammed it back into his ear and resumed his and Sammy's game without another word. It was jarring how quickly he could switch off from the world around him.
Aaron went on into the kitchen, where Seb and Rory were at the table surrounded by an avalanche of books, tablet computers and papers, revising for their A-levels and GCSEs, respectively.
"Dad, can you quiz me on safeguarding?" Seb asked at once, pushing his tablet into Aaron's hands. He leaned his elbows on the table, closing his eyes and pressing his hands into the sides of his face, as though it would somehow squeeze more knowledge out of his memory.
"Can I at least say hello to your papa first?" Aaron asked, edging around Seb to sidle up to Robert, who was still standing at the counter, chopping carrots.
"I don't know what you're so stressed for," Rory said to Seb. "You only need a C in Health and Social Care."
"Yeah, alright, Mx Straight-9s," Seb retorted.
Aaron wrapped his free arm around Robert from behind, putting his cheek against Robert's and snuggling in. "Hey."
"Hey," Robert said. He turned to give Aaron a kiss and remained close as he asked: "How was work?"
Aaron shrugged and smiled. "Fine. I just got the accounts through on the Wakefield yard and it's doing better than we thought it would."
"Congratulations, my genius entrepreneur," Robert said, his tone soft.
"Shut up," Aaron said, his face heating up.
Robert chuckled at him. He might have said something else, had Seb not interrupted: "Da-ad! Please can you ask me about safeguarding? I keep forgetting the legislation."
"He keeps forgetting about the Care Quality Commission amendments," Rory put in.
"You're not even doing Health and Social!" Seb wailed.
"You're both still doing better than me," Aaron reminded them. "I didn't get any A-levels."
"We know," Seb and Rory chorused.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Aaron glanced up from the tablet to see Darryl making his way down. Darryl had his earbuds, cap, sunglasses and sunflower lanyard on, as he always did to catch the bus to his monthly bird talk. This was a recurring event put on by the local RSPB which Darryl had been attending for years. He had been going for so long that they had little to teach him by now - in fact, he had been the one presenting the talk more than once - but he liked the routine and the chance to socialise with people who liked birds as much as he did. Aaron waited for Darryl to glance up then signed: {Have fun.}
{See you later,} Darryl signed back.
"Right," Aaron said, turning his attention to Seb. "I can do fifteen minutes, then me and papa need to be off."
"Okay!" Seb agreed, resuming his previous head-squeezing position, and Aaron began to ask him questions from his notes.
He actually didn't do too badly, picking up most of the major points even if he just couldn't make the names and dates of the specific laws stick in his head. After the fifteen minutes, Robert instructed Seb and Rory on how to finish cooking their family meal while Aaron went upstairs to change into clean clothes. When he came back down, Robert met him at the foot of the stairs.
"Ready?" Robert asked.
"Yep," Aaron said, and they left the house together.
"How's your head?" Aaron asked as they reached the top of the driveway.
"Yeah, thanks, Aaron," Robert said, his tone spiky. "I know I'm a bit over the hill but I haven't quite got to the point of two-day hangovers yet."
"You are fifty now, though," Aaron pointed out. "Practically ancient ."
Robert frowned at him, looking genuinely hurt, and Aaron made a mental note: age jokes - not funny any more. He took Robert's hand as they walked on through the village and rubbed his thumb over the back of it consolingly.
"Sorry," Aaron mumbled; he still wasn't very good at apologies. "You're still young and fit to me."
The offence leaked out of Robert's expression, and he sighed, and smiled a little. "You're lucky you're so fit yourself," he said. "Or you might not get away with so much cheek."
"You had a good time on Saturday though, right?" Aaron deflected.
"I always have a good time with you and Vic," Robert said. "I haven't got that drunk in years, though."
"Good to know you haven't forgotten how," Aaron joked. "Although I think you did forget at one point that we were at Vic's restaurant, not a club, because you went looking for the DJ to change the song."
Robert laughed, the creases in the corners of his bright, emerald eyes deepening. "Did I really?"
"Yep. Then when you couldn't find one, you mumbled about calling his manager to complain until Vic shoved a chocolate eclair in your gob to distract you."
"Eclairs are very distracting."
They arrived at their destination: a small cottage a few doors down from where Vic had lived before she moved to Hotten to set up her restaurant. Robert hesitated at the door, his hand raised to knock but his eyes closed. Aaron squeezed his hand in support. Robert always found this difficult, and it wasn't going to get any easier.
Robert opened his eyes and threw Aaron a firm nod, a nod that meant 'I'm putting a brave face on this.' Aaron returned the nod and Robert knocked, letting go of Aaron's hand to open the door in the same moment.
"Hiya, Diane!" Robert called out as he stepped over the threshold. "It's only me and Aaron."
"Hiya, love," came Diane's reply, sounding a little weaker than usual.
Aaron closed the front door behind them and they went through to her stifling living room. He was always tempted to throw open all the windows when they made their regular Monday visits, but he knew that Diane felt the cold more these days.
She was bundled up in her armchair with the TV on. She had lost a lot of weight in the past few years; Aaron always thought that she looked as though she would break if anyone touched her. Robert sat on the sofa, which was against the kitchen wall, and Aaron followed suit.
"How are you today?" Robert asked her.
"Grand," she answered, though her voice was faint. "Just grand. Is it time to go home now?"
"You already are home," Robert reminded her. "This is where you live."
"Oh," Diane said, looking around her. She didn't look convinced.
"Shall I make us some tea?" Aaron suggested. This was his role here: he made tea, he tidied up, while Robert chatted to Diane - partly just to spend time with her, partly to distract her so that she wouldn't get upset at the idea of Aaron moving things. The carers came in four times a day but they were sometimes busy or distracted or occasionally just plain complacent, and things could get missed.
Aaron went through to the kitchen and filled the kettle, listening to the conversation in the other room as the water began to heat up. He poked through the fridge to pick out anything that was past its date, then tied off the bin bag and left it by the door for them to take out as they left.
"How's work?" Diane asked.
"Oh, work's boring," Robert replied. "You don't want to hear about that. It's just moving stuff from here to there and elsewhere."
Someone knocked the door and opened it at the same time. "Hello!" a woman's voice called. "It's the carer!"
Aaron leaned around the door to confirm that the woman was wearing the uniform of the care company. "This is a bit late," he pointed out. "You're supposed to be here at four."
"Sorry," the carer said; she was in her twenties, blonde, slim, and Aaron was pretty sure she was called Ellie. "I tried telling them but they had me at a double-up at four and they couldn't swap it."
"Hmm," Aaron said, not pleased, but knowing that he would be wasting his breath to say anything more because Ellie couldn't do anything about it. If it happened again, Robert would probably phone the office. Again.
Ellie went into the living room and Aaron idly listened as she greeted Diane warmly. Aaron finished pouring the teas and threw out the teabags, passing Ellie on her way into the kitchen as he took the mugs out to the living room. Diane had one special mug now, one with a handle that she could hold easily, and it was only ever half-filled, because she struggled to lift a full mug. He gave Diane and Robert their drinks and sat back on the sofa, close enough to Robert for their arms to press against each other.
Ellie came back out holding a frozen ready meal in each hand. "Would you like the beef casserole or the chicken korma?" she asked Diane, showing her the options.
"Oh, I can't have my tea now," Diane said, looking up at her. "Doug isn't home yet."
"I think he's going to be back late today," said Ellie, without missing a beat. They had agreed that it wasn't worth telling Diane over and over again that Doug had been dead for some years. "It's probably better if you have yours first and he can have his when he gets home. Would you like a curry or a casserole?"
"Oh, alright then," Diane said with clear reluctance. "I suppose I'll have the casserole and you can leave the other one on the side for Doug."
"Okay," said Ellie brightly, and went back into the kitchen. Aaron heard the thunk of one meal being put in the microwave and the icy scraping of the other one being put back in the freezer.
"Have you seen Javon this week?" Robert asked Diane; Javon was the vicar.
Diane looked back at him distractedly. The confusion was building up in her face; she was struggling with the comings and goings of three of them.
"I'm just going to the loo," Aaron said, standing, to get himself out of the way.
It wasn't exactly a lie; he didn't need to relieve himself but he did go to the bathroom, collecting the bin bag in there and giving the toilet a squirt of bleach. From downstairs, he could just about hear Ellie gently encouraging Diane to have her tablets, and the comforting rumble of Robert's voice.
Aaron washed his hands and wandered into Diane's old bedroom, which was now a place to store things that were important to her but didn't fit in the living room. He sat on the edge of the bed, a dining chair tilting to lean against his back, and idly pulled out his phone. His lockscreen picture was the most recent one from their annual tradition of taking a family photo in front of the Christmas tree. He particularly liked this one because it had Rose in it, their eldest daughter, who was now 27 and had moved out years ago; she didn't always spend Christmas with them any more, but this past year she had.
After unlocking his phone, Aaron scrolled through his contacts list until he found 'Mum'. As it rang, he briefly stood up to close the door before returning to his spot on the bed.
"Hiya, love!"
Aaron picked at a loose thread on his shorts. "Alright?"
"I'm alright, I'm just getting ready for date night with Alistair. How are you?"
"You're always going on date night with Alistair," Aaron said.
"Well, you always phone me on a Monday, don't you?!" Chas retorted. "My one free night and that's when you decide to ring."
Aaron pulled a face at her that she couldn't see. "What, so would you rather I phone you when you're busy at work?"
"Don't get smart with me," she said, but affectionately. "Anyway, it might get me out of pouring pints for half an hour if you did."
"You love it," Aaron reminded her. "We'll never drag you out of there."
"Well, you could come and visit me, then," she suggested, changing tack. "I'm only down the road. Time was, we couldn't drag you out the Woollie, either."
"Sorry," Aaron said guiltily. "I've always got so much to do."
"Oh, I know, love," she said. "I'm not having a go. I just miss you, that's all."
Aaron bit his lip. Chas was barely fifteen years older than he was, but it was all too easy to imagine his time with her ticking down.
Before Aaron could say anything, Chas suddenly yelped and giggled. "Oh, Ali, don't! I'm talking to Aaron."
Aaron tried very hard not to imagine what had made his mum yelp.
"Hi, Aaron," came Alistair's deep voice. "Tell your mum that if she's not ready in fifteen minutes, I'm going without her."
"Fine, if you want to eat on your own," Chas retorted. "Get lost, I'm talking to my son."
"I should go," Aaron said, feeling awkward for having interrupted her plans. "Just wanted to say hi."
"Oh, don't listen to Alistair," Chas said. "It wouldn't hurt him to wait for a bit."
"Nah, it's alright. I'll try and see you in the week."
"Alright, love. See you soon."
They hung up and Aaron sat holding his phone. He almost didn't know what to do when he actually approved of his mum's choice of partner. For a long time, he had thought that someone like Paddy was what she needed - someone decent and dependable, who would keep her out of trouble. It turned out that someone like Alistair was what she needed - someone who could take everything she threw at him and throw it right back, laughing as he did so. He could bite back as well as any Dingle, but behind the willingness to fight was a man who respected Aaron's mum utterly. Chas was emotionally supported, financially stable, and she was happy , it seemed to Aaron, for the first time in years. Maybe the first time ever.
She was younger than Diane, but time only flew in one direction. One day, as unbelievable as it seemed, she would be old and tired and frail, and would need looking after. It was just difficult to think of her that way; dimmed, fading. Vulnerable. Would Alistair be there for her then? Who was to say?
All Aaron knew was that he would be.
He had made a similar promise to himself before, a long time ago, before he was old enough to truly feel what for the rest of my life looked like. He had meant it all the same. A comfortingly familiar pain twinged in his ribcage. Aaron could have cared for Jackson for all their lives - would have done... if Jackson had allowed it. And one day Jackson, too, would have been old and tired and frail, and he would have hated every passing second of it. And Aaron would never have had his children, or Robert, and the thought of that made the twinge tighten until it was nearly unbearable.
The door opened quietly, and Aaron looked up to see his husband standing there. "You ready to go?"
Aaron nodded silently and followed Robert downstairs. He said goodbye to Diane even though she looked surprised to see that he was in her house, and he and Robert left together.
They were quiet at first, each lost in their own melancholy. It might cling to them for the rest of the evening, a kind of feelings-hangover that had no more cure than an alcoholic one. Aaron listened to the occasional cars passing as they walked down the main street, trying to recognise each one by sound. It was trickier now that so many of them were electric, and hadn't that change caused his uncle Cain a few headaches and some rapid retraining efforts for the whole garage crew.
"Do you think she looked weaker than usual?" Robert asked after a few minutes.
Aaron wasn't sure if agreeing would make Robert worry more, but he didn't think that disagreeing would make him worry less , so he figured he'd just be honest: "Maybe, yeah."
"I don't think she looks well. I don't know if I should call the doctor out to check on her but she doesn't have any symptoms - none that she'd tell me about, anyway."
"I mean, she is 89 next month," Aaron pointed out. "It's not surprising that she's not feeling her best."
Robert frowned at him. "Was pointing out the advanced age of my terminally ill stepmum supposed to make me feel better ?"
"It -" Aaron had meant that old people got ill all the time, or had bad days, and it probably wasn't much to worry about, but he could see how it hadn't come out that way. "Kind of, yeah," he said sheepishly.
"Never become a nurse," Robert advised him. He didn't quite smile, but the frown softened.
"I won't," Aaron agreed fervently. He touched Robert's elbow to lead him to sit at one of the tables outside the cafe so that he would have a few minutes to talk and gather his thoughts before they went home. "Pat's doing the night visit," Aaron said. "So she'll notice if something's up."
Robert nodded reluctantly. He steepled his fingers together on the table, his eyes on his hands. "Maybe I should come back later. Keep an eye on her."
"Pat will keep an eye on her," Aaron said patiently. "You've got enough to think about."
Robert wasn't the sort to shift in his seat, like Aaron might, but the tips of his fingers went white where he was pressing them together. "Doesn't feel right, leaving it to strangers."
"They're not really strangers any more," Aaron pointed out. "And she'd hate for her family to be undressing her and changing her continence pads, even if we had the time."
Robert's mouth twisted guiltily, like he didn't believe it.
Aaron laid a hand over his, seeing the muscles in Robert's forearms relax out of the corner of his eyes. "She told you herself," he reminded Robert gently, "before things advanced - she didn't want to be a burden to you or to lose her dignity."
"She could never be a burden to me," Robert said loyally. The phrase contained a wealth of unspoken love.
"I know," Aaron said, to all of it.
Robert watched Aaron stroking his hands and Aaron watched Robert's face, wishing he could see inside Robert's brain. He understood the guilt, even if it was misplaced. He understood Robert's deep sense of duty towards those he loved; it was one of the things he loved about Robert in turn. He just wished he knew whether his reassurances were penetrating his husband's thoughts at all.
"She has to make it to 90," Robert said after a few minutes, "or it's just not fair."
Aaron really didn't know what to say to that. It felt strange to him to seek 90 just because it was a round number, and none of them knew how quickly Diane's vascular dementia would progress. Where would they be in another year? Perhaps it would comfort Robert to think of that. "She'll see Seb finishing his first year of uni... Rory doing their A-levels, Isaac doing his GCSEs. Who knows how much Hermione will change in another year."
"She can't just miss all that," Robert insisted.
This time, Aaron said nothing.