Page 59 of Milo
“How provincial you are now.”
He shrugs. “It doesn’t go with porridge, love. Not a good mix.”
She subsides and starts to hunt through the pockets of her jacket on the chair for her cigarettes. By unspoken consent, we leave her to it. It’s more peaceful that way. I dish up the bacon and eggs and Niall stands to hand the plates out. He leans into me as he stands next to me and one of his hands goes under my jumper, his long, cool fingers caressing the skin of my lower back. I shiver and smile. “Stop it,” I mutter, and he looks innocently at me.
“I can’t think what you mean,” he says blithely, and I jump as he pats my arse before stopping and coming back to caress it. We’re covered by the kitchen island, but when I look up my brother is glaring at us, so I nudge Niall to get moving with the plates.
I pour the porridge into bowls and slide them on the table. Jacinta looks at hers like I’ve put a pile of steaming shit in front of her but Gideon unexpectedly smiles, grabbing his spoon and digging in. He groans. “Oh my God, you’ve made it like Derry did.”
“It’s brown sugar and a bit of cinnamon,” I say. “It’s funny that the only thing she could cook was porridge. She’d have made an excellent addition to the three bears household, but not so much for us.”
He laughs. “Do you remember the Ready Brek advert with the red outline? Well, the amount of the stuff we ate, we must have looked bloody radioactive.”
I laugh and when I glance at Niall, he looks almost ecstatic, glancing between me and Gideon like he’s a parent forcing two children to play nicely. I shake my head at him and dig into my breakfast.
Once we’re all seated with the food in front of us, conversation ebbs and flows, helped by Molly’s monologue about school and the problems she’s having with someone called Michael Sanders.
We’ve just pushed our plates back and I’m on my second cup of tea when the doorbell rings, followed quickly by the sound of the front door opening and Mrs. Granger’s voice. “Cooee, Niall, are you here?”
“In the kitchen, Mrs. Granger,” Niall shouts, double-checking that Jacinta is fully covered.
She comes into the kitchen and Molly immediately dances happily over to her. “Say thank you to Milo and Niall for having you,” Mrs. Granger instructs her after accepting a hug.
Molly skips over and I accept the tight grip around my neck. She moves over to Niall and shrieks happily as he tilts her upside down and pretends to drop her. Jacinta makes a moue of distaste at the noise but my brother grins lazily, watching Jacinta with slightly malicious enjoyment.
“Thank you for having me,” Molly shouts once she’s been righted.
“Did you have a nice time?” Mrs. Granger asks.
“I did. It was ever so good. Milo made porridge and bacon and eggs, Niall said shit, and that lady over there was dancing around in the garden in her knickers,” Molly says excitedly.
There’s a long silence and I almost look around for the tumbleweeds which will undoubtedly soon be rolling through the kitchen.
“Oh, erm,” Niall coughs. “Oh, Mrs. Granger, it wasn’t quite like that.” She looks at him and he stumbles over his words. “Well okay, it might have been a little bit like that, but really I think if you just listen to my side of the story.”
Mrs. Granger shakes her head and shoots me a quick wink that Niall misses in his stumbling apology. Then she shoos Mollyout of the kitchen with Niall following her earnestly. When she’s gone the silence falls awkwardly.
I look towards the hall where we can hear the strains of Niall’s apology tour and laugh. Gideon looks surprised but then he grins at me and for a brief second it’s like we’re at home again. The old age divide is still there, but I feel startlingly close to him for a second with a rush of affection.
Then Niall comes in and Gideon’s smile fades and I sigh silently. I look up as Niall sits next to me. “Everything okay?” I ask.
He groans. “Well, I’m reasonably sure that she’s not going to murder me at the moment, so we can rest easy for a bit.”
“Probably eat some more porridge quickly though. And then maybe pack a getaway bag,” I advise.
He laughs. “We’ll run away together. It’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde.”
“I really don’t think a speech impediment is what you need when you’re holding up a bank. They’d drift off before they even realised they had to get the money out,” I say sagely. “Plus, my hair is really too wild for a beret.”
He laughs and ruffles my hair affectionately, and I watch my brother’s expression tighten as his eyes follow Niall’s hands. Then he heaves a heavy sigh. “Fuck, I’m bored. Let’s go away.”
“What?” Niall jerks out. “Now?”
“No, next year. Of course now,” my brother says somewhat petulantly. “I’ll go mad if I have to stay here.”
“May I point out that you’re the one who chose to come here and no one has handcuffed you to the table yet,” Niall says patiently.
My brother winks. “Well, not yet. Do you remember Geneva?”
