Page 75 of When We Are Old

“Ease up, Matty,” Lennie’s eyes glinted. “You don’t want to overwhelm her with all your sausage in one go.”

Shops and Pictures

Ronnie

Lynn’s house was crammed with people again. The Saturday match was a long-time tradition in the Carling house, that from what I understood, had moved from the pub to their mother’s house when all the boys had their children.

And when I say family, I’m not talking the green coloured Ryan, still determined to drink beer despite his obviously debilitating hangover, and Liam and their families. No, I mean all of them.

“So, Lassie, tell me again where you live?” Auntie Ethel clutched her sherry and leaned close to me across the sofa we’d become wedged onto together, the cushions caving under her and squeezing us into close proximity.

“Kingston.” I smiled and tried not to focus on the wiry grey strands bristling from her chin. “It’s near London.”

“Aye, I know where it is, Lassie. A Royal borough if I may believe.”

She had me there. I tried to recall the shield shaped signs down by the River Thames.

“Aye, Henry the Eighth, I believe—”

She was cut off by Matthew perching on the arm of the sofa and handing her a glass of sherry. “There you go. I noticed you were low again.” He shot me a wink and a smirk and I sunk into his chest. Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, “Mam’s worried we are nearly out again.”

I cast my glance around the room. How many people could fit in one house on a regular basis? “Is it like this every Saturday? How does your mum cope?”

Matthew chuckled and I relished the feel of him pressed against my back. His hand stretched around, running down my arm and entangling his fingers in mine. “They aren’t here for the match, Ronnie.” His smile curved into a boyish grin. “They are here for you.”

“Me?” My body temperature scorched to nuclear the moment I spoke.

Liam, who sat on the sofa nearest the television, swearing so the air around him curled with blue smoke, glanced over. “Aye up, Matty, be truthful. We are all here to see you crack a smile on your face.”

Matthew zapped him the V-sign and then chuckled against me and kissed my ear. For a paralysing moment of clarity, it hit me. This was happening.

Last weekend at home, with him under my mother’s roof, I’d known it was, but it had still felt like a dream you caught wind of just before waking.

Now the dream seemed tangible, so that I could chase it, touch it, own it.

“Indeed.” Ethel had downed her new glass of sherry. “When Hampton Court was built, the market town of…”

“I’m sorry, Ethel. Mam needs Ronnie in the kitchen. I’ll bring her back to you as quick as I can.” Matthew helped me from the sofa, lifting me from where I crammed in the corner with an almost suction-like squelch.

“Saved you,” he whispered in my ear. “She’s obsessed with the royals. Ob-sessed.”

I glanced over my shoulder to where she’d dropped her chin, her empty glass tilting forward. “Is she asleep already?”

“Instant, talk to sleep in a split second. It’s a family disposition from my father’s side.”

“What does your mum want?”

Matthew laughed and pressed me into the hallway wall. “She doesn’t, but I do.” His mouth sought mine, our teeth clinking as I gasped at his intense kiss.

I melted between the wall and him, my legs becoming numb; my fingers sliding into their favourite place, his hair. Loud voices came from either direction, but I couldn’t do anything other than sigh in appreciation of his lips against mine.

His hand slipped around my hip, edging me closer to his body and I chuckled into his mouth as I met a firm prodding of his arousal.

“What?” He muttered into my mouth. “I’ve barely been able to touch you since you arrived.” I shivered at the low note of desire in his voice. “What with you being drunk and having three kids running around.”

I shifted back and met his gaze. “It’s crazy, I can’t believe any of this is happening.”

The shine in his eyes dimmed a shade. “Listen, I don’t want to ruin the good mood here, but I’ve got to go and pick up the dog from Julie’s parents.”