Page 25 of Full Service

He smiled a wry, bashful smile. “Born ready,” he replied. We walked together to the front door and he rang the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Gruff. It had been a long time since we had seen one another and the only differences I could tell were a slightly receding hairline, laughter lines around his eyes and a bit of a dad-belly. He smiled genuinely as he looked at Macsen and pulled him into an awkward one-armed brotherly hug. He looked at me with some confusion, but I shook my head as subtly as I could. Luckily for me he didn’t push the issue and stepped aside to let us in.

The house was much more modern than I remembered it - that was to be expected with ten years of change, of course, but whereas Macsen’s parents had been scrimping every last penny and were always few steps behind the Joneses, they now seemed to have upgraded their lives. The entirety of downstairs had been knocked through to make one big and white open plan space. Some things hadn’t changed — Caroline and Mick had kept some of the old furniture and there were pictures of Macsen and Gruff on display in the plush new living room.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, Mick and Caroline were both in there. Caroline was setting the table as we walked in. Caroline looked up and smiled at the both of us. CouldMacsen really not see that she was proud of him, at least in her own way?

“Look at him,” Caroline called over to Mick, who was pouring boiling water from a pan into the sink. When he looked, she nodded at me. “He’s hardly changed a bit!”

I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. Little did they know how much had changed. But also because of the love evident there. There had been a time in my life when this house was like my second home, with Gruff and I staying together either here or at Uncle Prentis and Llywelyn’s place every weekend. I’d lost that to London and to ambition a decade ago.

Gruff and Macsen took what I assumed were their usual places at the table - awkwardly diagonal from another as if to make it ridiculously difficult for me to know where to sit.

“Sit anywhere love,” said Caroline completely unhelpfully.

After a second of weighing up my options I sat down next to Gruff and opposite Macsen.

“Your house is looking amazing,” I said. “Lots of changes.”

“Thank you,” said Caroline. She put a plate of cut meat piled high in the middle of the table, swiftly followed by Yorkshire puddings, carrots, stuffing, parsnips, broccoli and roast potatoes. Finally, the gravy boat followed. Food definitely hadn’t been this free-flowing last time I was here.

Caroline took a place at the head of the table and Mick sat next to Macsen. “We’ve worked hard for this,” said Caroline. “When Gruff started really earning the big money and Macsen moved out so we didn’t have an extra two mouths to feed every day, Mick went back to school. Got a degree in primary education, so he got himself a better paying job at the school.”

“That’s great!” I remembered Mick having always worked as a caretaker, doing long and unsociable hours just to keep the kids fed and clothed.

“And then,” Caroline continued, “I managed to get a promotion at work. I was always trying to make the school run before, but once these two had grown up I was a bit more free to put the extra time in. Then we had the chance to buy this house from the council at a discount and…”

Caroline looked around with obvious pride. She’d always instilled the value of hard work in her kids and it was easy to see where that ethic had come from.

“Right, let’s dig in then,” said Mick. Gruff’s hand shot out and took the best pieces of meat before Macsen could, and Macsen tried to reach over the table to grab the meat directly off the plate.

Caroline put a hand out. “Boys! How old are you? Because you’re acting like three-year-olds!”

“Gruff looks like he’s swallowed a three-year-old…” Macsen muttered.

“Eating out at the best places in Cardiff will do that for you,” Gruff replied. “When you have the money for it…”

“I have the money for it, just don’t want to look like a fat-”

“Boys!” Caroline said again.

“Sorry Mum,” they both smirked in unison at one another. I had no idea why Macsen had been so reticent to come home.

We ate in silence for the next ten minutes except for the odd compliment for Mick’s cooking skills.

“So, where are you working now?” asked Caroline after we’d finished and Mick was clearing the table. I froze with my wine glass centimetres from my lips and looked to Macsen in panic. He was suddenly very interested in the tablecloth.

I put on my best and most convincing smile. “I’m working with a partner on investing in a new medical product,” I said. It wasn’ttechnicallya lie, as Brian and I were probably still legally entangled somewhere down the line. Seeking to change the subject, I turned to Gruff. “What are you doing now?”

“Still the same as the last time we talked, just running fundraising for some Cardiff-based cancer charities.”

“Oh, the charities. Of course.” The last time we’d talked properly Gruff had just graduated from university, same as me. After that, at Uncle Llywelyn’s funeral, we’d not spoken about work. And I didn’t remember him having any aspirations to go into the charity sector. And why did he want his mother to think we’d stayed friends? Surely that couldn’t matter too much to me or him.

“Well isn’t this wonderful,” said Caroline. “Gruff working so high up with charity, you investing in life-saving care. It’s a shame you haven’t been round so much recently. I always loved your sleepovers. Wondered if you two would end up together eventually.”

Macsen snorted, and red wine came out of his nose. I looked down to stop myself from laughing as red wine dripped through his beard.

“Mac, that’s gross!” Caroline stood up to grab a kitchen towel and wiped down the table before handing it to him to wipe down his beard. Macsen’s shoulders were still shaking as he wiped away the wine. Was he laughing because of what we’d done?

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