Pascal was fond of apples, having a particular penchant for sweet yellow Golden Delicious. Tom peeled and thinly sliced one to add to the plate of dainty ham sandwiches he had prepared for him. Pascal’s once robust appetite had dwindled almost to nothing. The cancer had all but destroyed his stomach making the consumption of food almost a torment. It had to be cut into small morsels so he could manage it. He put the sandwiches on a tray along with one of the supplementary drinks designed to compensate for real nourishment and took it out into the garden.
Pascal tackled his meagre lunch with more enthusiasm and enjoyment than he’d shown in weeks. They talked as they ate, about the layout of the new garden centre and the plants to be stocked. Pascal advised on planting and potting schedules and then they discussed what jobs needed to be done around the house and gardens over the coming months. Tom made a deliberate effort to take pleasure in the conversation, firmly pushing the knowledge he would be doing the jobs alone to the back of his mind.
When lunch was finished Pascal lay back in his chair with a sigh of contentment. “A beautiful day, Tom, a beautiful day. It makes you glad to be alive, to feel the sun on your bones and smell the good earth. You can keep gold and silver. Give me fresh air and sunshine, they’re by far the greatest treasures.” He gave a mischievous wink. “Listen to me, the garden philosopher. Tom, my boy.” He gave a gleeful little rub of his hands. “I have a real fancy for chocolate. I don’t suppose there’s any in the house?”
Tom beamed, delighted by Pascal’s mood. There was even a touch of colour in his cheeks. Perhaps Ian’s prognosis had been premature. “There’s a bar of your favourite dark Belgian in the kitchen drawer. I’ll fetch it. Would you like a cup of coffee to go with it?”
“You read my mind. Make mine…”
“Hot and strong, I know, I know.”
Clicking his tongue in exasperation Tom shoved the kitchen drawer closed. It was the first time in ages that Pascal had voiced a fancy for anything and Adam had gotten to it first, greedy devil. Fishing his mobile phone out of his jeans pocket he called him, feeling a need to remonstrate there and then.
It was hard to stay cross with him, as he used the same portion of breath first to apologise for his munchies moment and then to express excitement because Pascal wanted chocolate. He said he was already on his way home and would stop at Tesco to pick up a bar, no, two bars of papa’s favourite dark chocolate.
Shaking his head, Tom slipped his phone back into his pocket. Knowing Adam he’d arrive home with a collection of chocolate bars. He set about cleaning the percolator. It still held dregs from the morning brew he’d made for Ian. He tipped the used grounds into a plastic tub ready to put on the compost heap. He measured fresh coffee into the cage and switched it on to perc. He then turned his attention to washing up the lunch pots.
Adam landed home just as the coffee pot switched itself off, filling the kitchen with its rich aroma. The front door burst open and his feet hit the stairs as he headed up them calling a greeting. “Papa! I’ve got your chocolate.”
Tom strode into the hall. “You won’t find him up there, Ad. He’s in the back garden.”
“Garden!” Adam turned and headed back downstairs, leaping the last three. “He must be feeling better.” His sapphire eyes glowed with delight. “I told you’d he’d turn the corner, Tom.”
“Don’t get carried away, love. Just enjoy the fact he’s having a good day.”
“One good day will lead to others. I know it.” He put the little bag containing the chocolate bars onto the hall table. “Kiss,” he demanded, reaching his arms around Tom’s neck. “I want a kiss from my sexy man.”
“I’m your man again, am I?” Tom’s smile and the arms he’d been about to wrap around Adam’s lean waist froze. A frown replaced the smile. “You’ve been drinking.” He unlaced Adam’s arms from his neck. “I can smell it on your breath.”
“Don’t turn dominant Daddy on me, please, not today.” Adam gave a little grin and tried again to hug Tom. “Not unless it’s in the spirit of foreplay. I like it when you turn dominant then. It turns me on.”
“Stop it, Adam. I’m not in a playing mood.”
“It was only a pint of lager for Pete’s sake, to celebrate the end of term. I’m not staggering around in circles.”
“One pint, one mouthful, it makes no difference. You don’t drink and drive, not ever! That was the stipulation of you having a car at all.”
“Evan bought me it even though I asked for a coke. I could hardly refuse to drink it, not after he’d paid for it.”
“Yes, yes you could. It’s your responsibility to do so. If you don’t have the strength of character to say no to friends who shouldn’t be buying you alcohol in the first place then you shouldn’t be driving.” Tom pushed his hair back from his forehead with an agitated hand. “God knows you’re easily enough distracted when you’re sober. You can’t afford to drift off into daydreams when you’re behind the wheel of a car, Adam. You need to keep all your wits about you and those wits don’t need addling by alcohol.”
“I’m fine, no harm done. I won’t do it again.”
“Damn right you won’t. Give me your keys.”
“Fuck’s sake!” Adam’s handsome face darkened. “I’ve just got them back.”
“You’ve lost them again, and for the entire summer. It might teach you a lesson. Hand them over.”
“You’re so fucking anal about alcohol. I had one drink, Tom, one! I’m not drunk. There’s no actual law against having one drink. It’s not like I ploughed my fucking car into a gang of pedestrians. Ow!” He gave a yelp as his arm was taken and he was jerked sideways, a sharp smack landing on his backside.
“Enough!” Tom’s eyes flashed fire. He slapped Adam’s bottom again several times. “I won’t have you make mockery of something so serious. The man who killed your mama and uncle Marcus probably didn’t think he was drunk either.”
Adam blushed with shame. He rubbed the seat of his jeans, his eyes filling with tears. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound callous.”
Tom’s demeanour softened a little, but his voice remained stern. “The rule is no drinking when you’re driving. If you can’t be responsible for yourself then it’s up to me to be responsible for you. Keys please. If I have to ask again I’ll put you over my knee and I’ll spank you properly. There’ll be nothing playful about it.”
Adam fished the keys out of his jeans pocket, placing them in Tom’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” Tom slipped them into his own pocket. “Go and give Pascal the chocolate. We’ll talk more later.”
Picking up the bag of chocolate Adam shot Tom a sulky look before striding off through the kitchen and out into the garden.
Tom followed, hearing Pascal greet Adam with a cry of pleasure. He stood by the open door for a few moments watching as Adam hugged Pascal and then sat down on the grass at his feet. He unwrapped a bar of chocolate, breaking it into small squares, handing it to Pascal a piece at a time. Tom turned his attentions to the coffee, sharing it between three cups.
Pascal beamed as Tom set the tray of coffees on the garden table. “Sunshine, good coffee, good chocolate, and my boys.” He playfully ruffled Adam’s hair. “What more can a man ask for.”