Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
In just a few days, Kieran had gathered more feedback on his app than he’d dreamed possible. Notes, ideas, wild suggestions, all bouncing round his brain like, well, a pinball machine.
He frowned. Why did I think of a pinball machine?
Why do you think? That voice again.
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he muttered, rubbing his temples. He’d even Googled voices in the head and instantly regretted it. Schizophrenia, bipolar, PTSD, extreme stress – basically, a buffet of doom.
‘I’m fine. A bit stressed, Prom, but that’s all.’
Prom, stretched across the rug like an emperor in repose, flipped onto his back. Kieran rubbed his belly – more therapy for the cat than him.
Still, beneath the banter, a small ache lingered. He hadn’t spoken to Beth since the ClosetAura event. Maybe he’d imagined the spark, the easy laughter, the current between them. Maybe she’d changed her mind.
Stop overthinking and live in the moment, the inner voice said, surprisingly gentle this time.
He tried. The moment involved clearing debris from the kitchen table before his visitors arrived.
Heather, Charlie, Jacob, and baby Ellie exploded into the cottage mid-morning, a whirlwind of chatter, buggies, and nappy bags.
‘Give us a hug!’ Heather cried, pulling him close. ‘Good grief, you smell like my gran’s sideboard.’
‘Lavender air freshener,’ Kieran said. ‘I overdid it. Thought it would be soothing. Turns out it’s more “funeral home chic”.’
‘Nice,’ said Charlie, adjusting the sling that held Ellie. ‘No hug from me, unless you fancy crushing my daughter.’
Jacob had already upended a bucket of Lego onto the floor.
‘Jacob!’ Heather groaned.
‘It’s fine,’ said Kieran, crouching beside the boy. ‘I used to love Lego. Fancy building something together?’
Jacob grinned. ‘A rocket! With aliens!’
‘Now you’re talking.’
Lunch was pleasant chaos – supermarket sandwiches, hummus, pork pies, and endless toddler commentary.
‘Do you have crisps?’ Jacob asked solemnly.
‘I do,’ said Kieran. ‘Badger poop, snail slime, or cowpat flavour. Chef’s special.’
Jacob wrinkled his nose. ‘That’s gross! Wait … are you joking?’
‘Always,’ said Charlie. ‘Kieran’s the silliest man I’ve ever met – and I’ve met myself.’
Heather snorted. ‘And he’s lucky enough to be married to me, despite his silliness.’
‘So far,’ Charlie said.
‘Fuck off,’ retorted Heather, before clamping her hand over her mouth. ‘Jacob, don’t you dare!’
Too late. The word flew gleefully around the table.
Later, while Heather fed Ellie and Charlie made tea, Kieran helped Jacob piece together the rocket. The boy’s tongue poked out in concentration, chubby fingers fitting the plastic with precision.
Kieran felt something unfurl inside him: sudden, sharp, undeniable.
I’d like children.
The thought landed like lightning. And this time the voice in his head wasn’t the strange one. It was his own.
‘You all right there?’ Heather crouched beside him, then yelped as she knelt on a stray brick. ‘Ow! These things are medieval torture devices.’
Kieran laughed, helping her up. ‘So parenthood’s not all soft play and cupcakes.’
‘No,’ she said, glancing at Jacob, who was humming happily. ‘But it’s worth every Lego bruise.’
He smiled. ‘You’ve got two gorgeous kids and a husband who’s definitely punching.’
Charlie lobbed a pork pie at his head. Kieran caught it and handed it to Jacob.
‘Thanks!’ said Jacob, taking a huge bite.
A few minutes later, Heather tilted her head towards the hallway. ‘Come on, Mr App Developer. Time to talk.’
Kieran followed, braced for interrogation. Heather had perfected the don’t mess with me stare years ago.
‘Level with me,’ she said. ‘Lisa’s history – hallelujah – but something’s going on. Spill.’
Where to start? He’d moved to Cranley broken-hearted, met Beth, laughed again for the first time in months, and somehow, started to…
He realised too late that he’d said it out loud.
‘You’re in love with Beth?’ Heather blinked. ‘Oh, Kieran. You’re a cliché with Wi-Fi.’
‘No, I said “the best” – like, life is the best—’
‘Nope. You said Beth. Don’t try to fool me: I’ve had two pregnancies and a husband who hides biscuits in the car.’
He opened his mouth to reply, but Jacob yelled from the living room. ‘Kieran! My spaceman’s head’s gone!’
‘Go,’ said Heather, smiling now. ‘For the record, Lisa’s fine. Saw her yesterday. She did a little fake cry about you dumping her, mascara untouched. She’s already latched on to a guy who looks like Yoda.’
Kieran blinked. ‘Well, that’s … oddly comforting?’
‘You’ve had a lucky escape,’ Heather said. Then, more softly, ‘Beth sounds like the real deal, you know. You’d be good together.’
He didn’t answer, because he already knew she was right.
By late afternoon, the cottage looked like a Lego bomb site. They packed it away, and Kieran found a box to carry the rocket in.
‘We’ll build another when we visit next time,’ Jacob declared, wrapping his small arms around Kieran’s neck.
‘Deal,’ said Kieran, throat tight.
‘You’ve got a friend for life,’ said Charlie. ‘Two, actually. Four, if you count this one.’ He nodded at Ellie, now burbling in Heather’s arms.
‘We’re always here,’ said Heather. ‘Through thick and thin. Though right now I’m more thick than thin.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ chorused Kieran and Charlie.
‘Fuck off,’ said Heather. Then, hastily, ‘Jacob, don’t—’
‘Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!’ sang Jacob as they waved goodbye.
Kieran leaned against the door, laughing until the sound caught in his chest. The house felt quiet again: almost too quiet.
You’d make a great daddy.
He froze. Not from fear this time, but from the truth of it.
He sat on the sofa, picking up a single red Lego brick. Fatherhood had never seemed real: not with Lisa, not even in daydreams. But with Beth…
He could imagine it. A home that smelled of soup and joy, of laughter and life.
It takes only the right coupling. Trust me.
‘Not helping,’ he muttered, but he smiled all the same.
He cleared the plates, stepped squarely on a Lego brick, and yelped. ‘Ow! Bloody—’
Language, the voice teased.
‘Fuckety fuckety fuck,’ Kieran said, through gritted teeth, then laughed until his sides ached. And wished Beth was with him to share the moment.