Let's Play House

Chapter Sixteen

Brian escorted the two small boys back to the playground, where everything was friendly and familiar and, there was absolutely no sign of any rough teenagers. He tried to convince Richie into letting him carry George, but Richie was determined on carrying the baby himself.

"Fine," Brian said. "You do it, Richie."

"I will do it, Uncle Brian," Richie replied curtly. He ended up having to drag baby George along, his tiny feet dragging on the ground. Pretty soon, George's footie pyjamas were completely covered in grass stains.

"Your mum will have a fit," Brian remarked.

"No, he won't," said Richie. "He doesn't ever get mad at Georgie."

"I see." Brian paused for a moment. "Hey, Richie, are you all right? What are you doing all the way out in this neck of the park? Where are John and Paul?"

"Slow down, Uncle Brian," said Richie, sounding wounded. "I'm really tired and I can't understand what you're saying."

"Oh, sorry, little pal. I'll start again. Are you all right? Those nasty lads didn't hurt you or the baby, did they?"

"No, Uncle Brian. I'm okay."

"That's good to hear," Brian said, grinning. "What are you doing in this neck of the park?"

Richie stopped walking for a moment. He didn't say a word. He just stared down at his feet. A few big tears trickled down his cheeks. "I was very bad, Uncle Brian. Very, very bad."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?" he said, though he felt bad about asking.

More tears spilled down Richie's face. "I got mad at George because... because he's Mummy's favourite. Daddy still likes me a little, but I can tell he think George is best."

"Okay," Brian said uncertainly. Where was Richie going with this?

"I decided I didn't want a baby brother anymore, so I ran away. I went to the brambly bushes over there and tried to... tried to... I tried to hide George so no one would find him."

"Oh, Richie... You didn't have to do that. Were you really that upset?"

Richie didn't reply. He was sobbing too hard to speak. Brian knelt down, took George in one arm, Richie in the other. The older boy buried his face in Brian's shoulder and wept. George didn't have a clue what was going on, but he started crying so he wouldn't be left out.

"Oh dear, you poor, silly little kids," Brian sighed. "Where are your parents?"

"They're sitting together on a park bench," Richie mumbled, still face-deep in Brian's shoulder.

"Let's go and find them," said Brian, staggering to his feet. He adjusted a wailing George more carefully in his arm, took Richie by the hand and led them away in the direction of the playground.

* * * *

John and Paul were still sitting on the same bench as before, but they weren't speaking to each other. Paul was still upset about John's attempt to flirt with that woman (or, as he referred to her, 'that horrible Japanese tramp'). John had made the huge mistake of laughing and telling Paul to lighten up. Of course, he didn't lighten up and refused to even make eye contact with John for the past twenty minutes.

"Paulie?" John said, reaching out to pat his lover's shoulder.

Paul shrank away from his grasp and turned his back.

"Oh, come on, Mr Grumpy Guts," said John. "You can't stay mad at me forever."

"Try me," Paul grumbled.