Let's Play House

Chapter Twelve

(Sorry that this is a bit late!)

"Listen, Rich," said John as he placed his son gently on the bed. "I have something very special to give to you, okay?"

"Okay," said Richie. He still had tears in his eyes and his nose was running. John sighed, whipped out his handkerchief and dabbed at the small boy's face. Richie wriggled and protested for a moment then calmed down and let John clean him up.

"That's better," said John, smiling. "Now, stop that sniveling so I can talk to you."

Richie sniffled, trying desperately to stop crying. John smiled then sat on the bed beside him. He placed his arm around the small boy, pulling him in close. Richie burrowed into his side, his hard little fingers digging into John's jacket. John tenderly stroked Richie's soft mop of brown hair.

"Poor old Richie," he murmured. "You've been through a lot lately, haven't you?"

Richie answered with a small whimpering sound.

"Hey, love, please stop crying. I can't bear to see you so unhappy."

"Sorry, Daddy," Richie mumbled.

"Don't be sorry. Just cheer up a little bit. Please? You're breaking my heart."

Richie wiped his nose on his sleeve and gave a small smile. John smiled back and ruffled his hair playfully. 

"There. Much better."

"What did you want to show me, Dad?" Richie asked.

"Well, I was going to save it until you were a bit older," John said softly, "but I think you're ready for it now."

John opened his bedside drawer, rifled through it and came up with a little, golden, heart-shaped locket. Richie watched completely spellbound as John unhooked the clasp and fastened it around the little boy's neck. It was extremely long on Richie, coming right down to his belly button, but that didn't really natter. He picked up the golden heart and admired it from every angle.

"Pretty locket, isn't it?" said John, smiling.

"Very pretty," Richie replied.

"It used to belong to my mum," John explained. "She gave it to me and told me how precious it was to her. She said that precious things should be kept close to your heart - as if they were enclosed in a locket."

Richie didn't know what his dad was getting at, but he nodded as if he understood.

"You're meant to keep your most precious memories and possessions in a locket," John went on. "That's what I've done, Richie."

"What?"

"Open the locket. There's a clasp on the side."

"Okay," said Richie. He found the clasp and unhooked it delicately. The heart came apart in his hands to reveal two tiny photographs tucked away inside, one on the left, the other on the right. He was surprised to see his own little black-and-white face smiling back at him. It took him a few seconds to figure out which pictures they were. 

The first photo was a family photo. (There was another one just like it hanging up in the living room, enclosed in a pretty white frame.) It had been taken several months ago, back in the early days of Paul's second pregnancy. He looked a lot thinner, but his face was round and rosy, complete with a big, happy smile. John was sitting beside him, also smiling, with little Richie seated on his lap. Richie himself smiled looking at the photo.

The other photo was of baby George, sound asleep in his cot. Richie was also in the picture, leaning over the cot railings to get a proper look at his new baby brother. Richie remembered the day that photo was taken. It was the day after his parents had brought the new baby home from the hospital. The day that everything had changed.