‘Don’t be daft. I’ve got stuff for sandwiches at home. I’ll feed them when we get back.’
In the distance, a low rumble of thunder sounded. Niall looked up and then at his dad. I took the cue for distraction tactics.
‘Right. Everybody ready for a ride in the James Bond car?’
A little chorus of ‘Yeah’s went up as two small boys bounced up and down. I gave Matt a hug and a wave and wished him good luck with whatever it was he was heading into at the hospital. His job and abilities held me in awe and I was glad that I could do something to help, however small.
‘Right. Feet on the floor and hands on laps, please,’ I instructed the boys as they got into the small back seat of the Aston Martin. Liam worked his own seat belt and obeyed and I helped Niall with his as Charlie got back in the driver’s seat, and closed his door. I clicked in the belt and made to move away. Niall grabbed my hand, his little face full of concern as he looked at me.
‘But my feet don’t touch the floor!’ he whispered.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie smile.
‘That’s OK, sweetie. I just meant keep your feet down. Don’t put them on the back of the seat or anything.’
‘OK.’
The truth was they were both good boys and Matt and Maria had instilled respect for people and property in them from an early age. But they were still children and it was still pale cream leather in an Aston Martin.
I tipped the seat back into position and got in, waving to my brother as I closed the passenger door. Charlie started the engine and blipped the throttle a couple of times, the car letting out a throaty roar each time. In the back the boys cheered loudly. I slanted my glance to him.
‘You’re as much of a kid about this car as they are, aren’t you?’
He gave me an incredulous look. ‘Of course!’
He gave one more blip and pulled out of the driveway onto the road and headed back towards the marina, taking a longer route, apparently for the benefit of the boys, although I think the enjoyment factor was about the same for all three males.
Having pulled into a parking space, we extricated the boys from the back seat and I surreptitiously checked the interior for marks and rips. Relief flooded through me. I stood up and shut the door. Charlie was watching. He gave me a little head-shake and smiled. I shrugged and smiled back. He made it hard not to. Traipsing up the stairs, I held Niall’s hand as Liam and Charlie followed close behind, my nephew firing questions at Charlie about the car the whole time. We entered the flat, and I put the boys’ stuff down on the floor, opening the balcony door for ventilation as I did so. The impending storm had made the air thick and humid, and the gentle breeze of earlier had been replaced with an almost eerie stillness.
‘Do not go near the balcony,’ I said. As I always said. And they never did. Not once. But it didn’t make me any less paranoid. ‘Boys!’ I said. ‘Are you listening?’
‘Yes, Auntie Libby.’
‘Yes, Auntie Libby.’
‘Right. Thank you. Lunch will be ready in five minutes.’
I’d already lost their attention to the toys that were coming out of the bag my brother had given me. Not surprisingly, they were cars.
‘Charlie! Charlie! Come and play!’
I raised my eyebrows at him and walked through to the kitchen. From my position I was able to peer out and could see all three now spread on my living-room floor driving little cars around imaginary roads with varying amount of noise and squealing tyre sounds.
‘Boys! Lunch is ready. Come and wash your hands, please.’
Nothing.
‘Boys! Now, please.’
The car noises stopped, replaced by giggling. Charlie appeared at the door with a small boy tucked under each arm, each one wriggling and giggling in joy. I laughed as Charlie put them down.
‘I’m just going to pull the balcony door across,’ he said. ‘It’s started raining quite heavily now.’
‘Oh, thanks!’
‘Come on, boys, wash your hands, please,’ I said again, and they did. Niall dragging out his little hop-up so that he could reach the sink, then replacing it back in the corner once he was done. He was well trained – albeit traumatically.
I’d got him the little step so that he could wash his hands on his own – he liked to be able to do whatever his big brother did, which included washing his hands at the kitchen sink before lunch. The step was just big enough and the more he grew, the easier it got for him. But, of course, I wasn’t used to having it there and one day, shortly after I’d bought it, I forgot about it. Right up until the moment I tripped over it, sending myself flying and catching my chin on the worktop as I went down. It really was quite surprising just how much blood could come out of your chin. Shocked, Niall had immediately gone into hysterics, which was kind of annoying because I’d planned on that very same course of action myself and now felt unable to do so.
