“Let’s go home,”
suggested Luigi to Cody, after they’d finished helping with the clean up after
breakfast.
Home? thought Cody. Where is that? But he didn’t speak.
“Your medical
certificate might have come. The doctor
said he would send it to my address.”
“Maybe ….”
“What?”
“Maybe I should
just … resign. I dunno that I can face
them if the truth comes out.”
“Is it a good
job? Pay and stuff?”
“It’s all
right. Not a fortune. But enough.
Phillippa”— he swallowed and looked away—“she … the house was given to
us by her parents … so we …. There was enough money. Even though I didn’t earn a lot.”
Luigi wondered how
to put what he was going to ask next.
“Will she ask for maintenance?”
“She’s very … yeah.”
“Will you fight
that?”
“No. Not for the kids. My kids.
I … I want to be …” He broke off,
unable to speak.
Luigi waited,
patiently.
“I want to be part
of their life. Just because …. You know
… and I love them. And … well … maybe I
can trade, you know, maintenance for access.”
Luigi was quietly
angry. Not against Cody. Against society. Cody had a right to see his children, to love
them. Just because Cody was gay, didn’t
mean that he’d lost that right.
“Well, let’s go
and see whether the medical certificate is there and then we can think about
phoning your work. One step at a
time. We’ll make it.”
Taking Cody’s hand
he led him through to where Eleanor was sitting.
“Mrs Cumberledge,
we’re off now. Thank you for the party
last night and breakfast this morning.”
“Oh, do call me
Eleanor, Luigi. ‘Mrs Cumberledge’ sounds
so formal.”
He smiled at her. “All right.
Thank you. And thank you for …
your support.”
Cody looked at her
and said, all at once overcome with shyness, “Yes, thank you. I … it helped.”
She took the hand
Luigi wasn’t holding and squeezed it.
“Do come again, Cody. Soon.
You’re very welcome here.”
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