Page 78 of The Art of Loving You

‘Square by square.’

The restaurant was blissfully cool, the air conditioning wafting the aroma of curry, sweet and savoury spices hanging heavy in the air.Noah was pouring the wine; there was so much to toast, to be grateful for.

I raised my glass to the reason we were here. ‘Happy birthday, Liam.’

We chinked our glasses together. Liam pulled a face as he took tentative sips of the chilled Chablis, screwing his face up as he swallowed.

‘Would you rather have something else?’ I asked.

He watched as Noah drank from his glass and then he took another gulp. ‘Nah. It ain’t bad when you get used to it,’ he conceded.

‘Seventeen. The things you can do at seventeen, lad,’ Sid said.

‘Like what?’

‘My dad were in the Army at seventeen,’ Sid replied.

‘I can’t imagine being in a war,’ Liam said. ‘It’s so brave.’

‘It is but we don’t always choose the situations we’re in and yet we find the courage to face them. Bravery comes in many different forms, Liam lad. Libby here, doing up the house. Noah, carrying on after the loss of his sister, Bethany. Sorry, Noah. Hope you don’t mind that Libby told me?’

Noah went as white as the tablecloth. ‘Don’t,’ he said quietly. ‘Don’t call me brave. I’m not.’

‘But—’

‘I reckon we should give Liam here his presents.’ Sid cut me off, changing the subject, handing a gift over to Liam. Liam unwrapped a battered leather box. Inside were two shiny medals.

‘These were me dad’s. I had them cleaned for you.’

‘For me?’ Liam shook his head in disbelief. ‘Why? I ain’t your family or nothing.’

‘Family comes in all different shapes and sizes, Liam lad.Bravery too. These medals will remind you of both of these things.’ Sid’s eyes met mine.I was going to give them to Jack, they told me.I know, mine replied.

‘Now mine.’ I gently set a mahogany box in front of him. I hadn’t sent everything of Jack’s to Rhonda and Bryan.

‘What’s this?’ Liam opened it. ‘Are these …’ He looked up at me questioningly.

‘I bought them for Jack, for our anniversary. He … he never got a chance to use them.’

‘I can’t take them.’ Liam ran his fingers over the maple handles of the paint brushes.

‘You can and you must. What you’re doing at the house is great. You’ve got a real eye for space and the garden wouldn’t look half as good without your input but you have a talent, Liam. Jack knew that and he’d want you to have these. I know the college course isn’t what you’d hoped for but don’t give up on art. Jack would want you to paint. Okay?’

Liam nodded – he’d give it his best shot – and I squeezed his shoulder. ‘I know that you will.’

Noah and I exchanged an I’m-so-proud look.

‘I’m giving you the gift of memories,’ Noah told Liam. ‘We’re booked in the bowling alley in forty-five minutes. As it’s your birthday, I might let you win.’ He grinned. ‘But don’t count on it.’

While we ate I took some candid shots, using my camera because I wanted to, rather than because I felt I should. Realising this made me think fleetingly again of The Hawley Foundation Prize. Could I still enter my work?

The doors to the kitchen swung open and Liam was visibly overcome as the waiter carried out a huge chocolate cake dotted with seventeen silver candles. His eyes glazed, bottom lip trembling.Having a birthday cake was something I’d always taken for granted; from Liam’s expression I wasn’t sure he could claim the same.

At the bowling alley Sid opted to go last. Noah and I both knocked down five pins each, Liam two.

‘I’ve never played before,’ he said. ‘Me mum always said it’s too expensive.’

‘I’ll show you how to throw next time,’ Noah said.

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