The Affectionate Player - Part2

Chapter 13

I lie awake listening to the soft snores of Max and Monty, one from the pillow beside me and the other from the baby monitor. The soothing sounds emanating from father and son flow in sync, each gentle breath serving to lessen the anxiety I've felt for days. Having returned to the cottage on Saturday we'd chosen to relax for the evening enjoying steaks and a great Malbec, and being completely in tune with my afflictions Max mentioned little of the last two days other than how much he liked Father Paul.

Yesterday we'd shared a perfect day spending the early afternoon walking and collecting shells on the beach, and later cooking roast dinner with Connie. Though by eight o'clock after the kids had gone to bed my growing headache had hindered the evening and I'd left both brother and sister in the snug.

The A4 envelope passed to me by Father Paul has remained in there unopened. It's beckoned on at least three occasions but each time I've resisted choosing instead to enjoy the comfort of my own family rather than searching for answers. In truth I'm frightened of all that hides within it because without doubt it will lead to more questions and inevitably more revelations.

My mind wonders to my surviving siblings - all four of them - and the thought of it scares me further. Three in the States and one in London. All have made lives for themselves and good lives it would seem, even though Geri has turned to crime of late. To my knowledge she's financially excelled but in light of the fact that she's deceived so many, I worry that the business she's conducted at Kingston's is questionable and resolve that I'll speak with my former boss, Jen, when I'm back home.

Reaching for the water on the bedside table I drink thirstily checking the time on my phone. It's almost half past six and I settle to get up. Making my way to the bathroom daylight creeps in through the landing window, a clear sign that dawn is approaching, and in a bid to shake this headache given how an early night has failed to deliver the reprieve I'd hoped for, I resort to ibuprofen.

As I reach the downstairs hallway I hear the kettle being filled and realise that while I've been visiting the loo, I appear to have disturbed someone. Expecting Connie, I enter the kitchen only to be greeted by Max who's standing in blue stripy PJ bottoms and a red football jersey. Seriously? How does he get to look this good before 7am? Smiling, he offers me some chilled apple juice clinking his glass with mine as I take it.

"Sorry, baby." I yawn and lean over kissing his cheek. "I didn't mean to waken you."

"You didn't. I've been awake since five but must have dozed off again. How did you sleep?"

"OK, I think."

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little." I fib for now, though I hope to be later. "What time did you come to bed?"

"Around ten. I fell asleep almost immediately but I got an email alert at eleven from Scarlett." I watch admiringly as his beautiful hands prepare the Cafetiere and plating up a few leftover croissants he readies a tray.

"So late? Any last minute changes to your play dates?" I ask, walking to the snug and grabbing a comfy wool throw for my shoulders.

"Nope. But I have been asked to present an award at BAFTA this coming May." Unable to hide the excitement in his voice, Max smiles widely and I can't prevent my own from mirroring his.

"That's wonderful! How amazing is that?"

"Yea, I'm pretty pleased. We'll get to walk the red carpet with the best in the industry."

"I think you'll find that you are one of the best in the industry." He saunters through the dining area with the tray joining me.

"Always my advocate, aren't you?" He winks, causing another huge grin to adorn my face.