After You

Chapter Thirty-seven - 5 Years' Time

"Are you and Jude the real deal? I've no idea, but look how much fun you're having playing The Stepford Wife; I never knew you had it in you.
No matter what happens from here on in, I'm proud of you."
- Rhys

It quickly became apparent that I'd made a very good start with Jude's sons. It seemed that most of their previous disapproval was caused by a desire for their parents to reconcile. With Serena and Conrad now engaged and actively trawling the property market in Pimlico, the boys had obviously given up hope of their parents having a "happily-ever-after", leaving Jude free to date whomever he wished.

Of course, they still needed to like me; being merely tolerated wasn't good enough - not if I wanted to avoid that weird, intruder vibe whenever Jude and I spent weekends together. Dylan was the easiest to crack. I didn't really need to do anything at all. He just seemed to accept me as a given. I wouldn't say we were best friends, but every so often, he attempted to be nice to me.

When Jude took us all out to a fireworks display, he came back from the fast food van with a stick of candy floss for me. I asked Jude why he'd bought me something when I'd told him I wasn't hungry and he explained - in a hushed whisper - that Dylan had wanted me to have something so that I wasn't left out, and that when he'd tried to talk his son out of it, Dylan had called his father a "cheapskate" and offered to pay for my treat using his own pocket money.

Then the older boy came to me for relationship advice one Sunday afternoon, whilst Jude was helping Finn with some maths homework.

'How do you know if you're in love?' Dylan asked. I frowned at him, alarmed, because he wasn't even twelve and a half.

'I guess you think about that person all the time?' I said, deciding it best not to mention insatiable lust. 'In a good way; you think about them in a good way. Not a bad way, like you might your sworn enemy, because you probably think about your enemies a lot, too.' Dylan looked confused. 'Y'know,' I quipped, 'like when you spend your afternoon plotting a painful death for them?' He grinned evilly.

'You're kinda cool,' he said. He could've asked me to marry him; I'd have been no less flattered.

'Well, you're not bad, either. If there's someone you like at school, you should say something. I bet you she likes you, too.' Then I winced to myself, because it was entirely possible he was gay. If I was experienced with kids, I'd have known to tread more carefully; say "They" instead of "She".

'You think she likes me?' Dylan asked, hopefully. I breathed a sigh of relief. He did like a girl, after all. I hadn't just put my foot in it and undone all my good work.

'Why wouldn't she?' I told him. 'You're tall. Girls love a tall guy. You're smart and you've got nice manners. I bet you're a proper little heartbreaker, aren't you?' He blushed a bit, leading me to suspect that he'd probably never held hands with a girl before, let alone kissed one. It was sweet, really, but totally the sort of thing he should be asking his dad about.

'Girls like boys who do sports, don't they?' he said, flopping down onto the sofa beside me. 'I need to do a sport.'

'You play football,' I replied, confused. Dylan only tossed an irritated scowl at me.

'Everyone plays football!' he complained. 'I need something that makes me stand out.' I would have laughed, because he reminded me of that boy in Love Actually; the one in love with the little American girl who had a wicked voice. In the film, he'd turned to drumming to woo his lady. Dylan - it seemed - was turning to something which would work up more of a sweat. In Love Actually, helping the boy pursue his first love had been a fantastic way of allowing the orphaned son to bond with his widower step-father. Serena was still alive, of course, but surely we'd all get on like a house on fire if I helped Dylan secure his first kiss?