Chapter Text
Douglas put down the last box and looked around. It was a small flat with two rooms, a bathroom and an unimaginably little kitchen – a man in his twenties couldn’t wish for more. Well, maybe a man in his twenties wouldn’t wish for a not-exactly-thirty flatmate with a two years old son, but it was the best they could cook up.
Douglas met Carolyn in the bar where the woman worked on the evenings. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to pick her up, but they started to chat and soon it turned out that they could be quite good... well, fellow-soldiers. Maybe friends, if they don’t tease and mock each other to death first. Carolyn was a single mother, gaining money for her divorce. She played it safe – she wanted to keep her son, so she needed a job with a normal salary and a permanent address. She had a small flat from her first and short marriage (ruined by her own sister, as she confessed once), but she had to maintain it, which wasn’t that easy while she always had to buy food and clothes and more food for her quickly growing child and for herself. Oh, and don’t forget about babysitters. They were the most expensive among everything, and she had to pay them every night. When she met Douglas, Carolyn was on the verge of admitting that she really needed a helping hand.
Actually, Douglas needed a cheaper place to live than his previous sublet was. Also, as he was training for his CPL exams to become a proper pilot, he was free on his evenings. (First he made some so-called medical research for a while, but then he left the nice-looking nurses for the pretty stewardesses and for the friendly blue sky.) So he offered a deal to Carolyn: he would be a lodger at a dead bargain but he could guarantee free babysitting for every evening and in urgent cases, except Saturday nights, because as a young lad he had to meet nice girls and date them sometimes, didn’t he? She accepted his terms, but she fought out a bit higher price than Douglas wanted. But in the end they succeeded in entering into a composition which roughly covered everybody’s desires.
Douglas put down the last box and looked around. His room was small but it seemed quite comfortable. Now he was only afraid of the babysitting part of the deal. He hated the idea of a noisy, untidy, tireless child, but he never dared to ask Carolyn because he was sure the woman would kill him for insulting her son.
However, when he met Arthur at last, all his fears simply slipped away. Douglas found him a calm, good little chap, very eager to play and discover the world, but perfectly quiet. Maybe a bit too quiet.
’He doesn’t talk much,’ Carolyn said and stroked the child’s hair. ’The doctors said he would be a silent kid but he would be okay. Never an Einstein, but I didn’t expect him to get the Nobel Price anyway.’ She paused, but after some quick thinking, she added,’ I mean, it’s absolutely normal if one doesn’t talk at this age. Boys are usually late, too.’
’Would you like to talk about it now, or should we leave it for the time when we will be sitting on the kitchen-floor, drunken, making tearful confessions to each other?’
’I am not planning to get drunk together with you, Douglas, thank you. I think I should tell it you now.’ Carolyn took a deep breath. ’It was not exactly an accident. Arthur got my husband… shortly ex-husband… up on his ears with… I don’t know, he was just toddling around! But Gordon became angry and pushed him over. Arthur fell very miserably and hit his head. The doctors said it was nothing grave, he just won’t be a genius. But.’ She paused and look upon Douglas very seriously. ’I thought I should tell you this now, because if you lay a finger on my son, you will leave this flat through the window. Understood?’
’It never crossed my mind.’ Douglas nodded.
His first evening with Arthur was peaceful and quite nice. He never imagined himself as the typical paternal figure before, but a Douglas Richardson can deal with everything, even it’s the case of babysitting. It almost seemed to be easy. He made food, let Arthur play in the corner while he listened to the radio and read the newspaper, then, when it was time for bed, he picked up a book and read a story for him.
’Would you like to hear the story of King Arthur?’ He asked and opened the book. Arthur hummed happily. He often made little noises, like humming, crowing or babbling; he wasn’t completely silent. He just didn’t talk.
Life at the tiny flat began rather uneventfully. Douglas studied on the mornings, Carolyn worked on the evenings, and Arthur played in his little world happily. He managed to communicate with his mother on his own language, barely using proper words, while Douglas and Carolyn quite rarely met. They practically had shifts in the house, so they didn’t chat too much at the very start. They mostly ran into each other in the kitchen, usually on Saturday evenings – Douglas eating something before leaving for the night, Carolyn preparing something for dinner.
’I am almost happy that Arthur doesn’t talk too much,’ Carolyn said while she put her son in the high-chair. ’I am afraid the time will come when he starts to ask. And then he will never stop.’
’He is a cheerful wee chap. Aren’t you, Arthur?’ Douglas tickled the boy’s feet, and Arthur giggled.
’I am glad to hear it,’ Carolyn commented. ’But Douglas. You don’t have to be so domestic or soppy. I know you are an artful dodger, you can’t fob me off.’
’Pleasure to live under one roof with you, Carolyn.’