Chapter Fourteen
When William arrived home from the school, the house was empty. His parents had taken the children out for a walk through the gate that led to the seashore — “to burn off some energy,” his mother had said with a knowing look — and the house felt strangely hollow without them. Too quiet. Too still.
He made tea he didn’t drink, wiped down a counter that didn’t need wiping, and checked the clock for the third time in ten minutes.
He wasn’t nervous, he told himself. Just…
aware. Aware of how much this conversation mattered.
The front door opened with a gust of cold air and the unmistakable sound of Jake talking at full speed.
“Grandad let me throw stones in the sea and one nearly hit a seagull, but it didn’t and then Sophie said—”
“I didn’t say anything,” Sophie protested, cheeks pink from the wind.
Ollie barrelled in behind them, followed by Mia with the bag of snacks William’s mother always insisted on bringing “just in case.” His parents came next, brushing sand from their coats.
Ethan stepped in last — hood up, hands in pockets, eyes flicking briefly to William before dropping again.
He looked like the walk had done him good.
“Thanks,” William said quietly to his parents.
His mother squeezed his arm. “We’ll leave you to it. We’ll be back before your shift.”
When the door closed behind them, the house filled instantly with the familiar noise of home — bags dropped, shoes kicked off, Jake narrating his entire walk in one breath.
William waited until they had settled into their usual places — Jake on the floor with toy cars, Sophie at the table drawing spirals, Ollie leaning against the counter, Mia perched on a stool, Ethan hovering near the doorway but listening.
“I went to see a school today,” William said.
Five heads lifted.
“A new one?” Sophie whispered.
“Yes. Brookleigh Bay Community Christian School.”
Mia looked up, thoughtful. “What’s it like?”
“It’s friendly,” William said. “And they don’t expect you to be anything other than who you are.”
Sophie nodded slowly, absorbing that like someone tasting a new flavour and deciding it was safe.
Ollie straightened. “Do they have football?”
“They do.”
Jake crawled closer. “Do they have cars?”
“They have a whole box of them in Reception.”
Jake beamed, instantly sold.
Mia folded her hands. “Would we all go?”
“I think it’s right for us, but we’ll visit together before you start,” William said.
Ollie shrugged. “If they’ve got football, I’m in.”
Jake shouted, “Cars!”
Sophie whispered, “I want somewhere calm.”
And Ethan… Ethan didn’t speak. But he didn’t leave the room either. He stayed where he was, shoulders tight, jaw set, eyes fixed on the floor — but listening. Really listening.
William felt something shift — small, fragile, but real.
“If you want to see it,” he said softly, “we can go together. Walk around. Meet the teachers. You don’t have to decide how you feel about it today.”
Mia nodded. “I’d like that.”
Sophie whispered, “Me too.”
Ollie grinned. “Can I try the football pitch?”
“We’ll see.”
Jake bounced. “Cars!”
Ethan’s voice came so quietly William almost missed it.
“…Do they have a place you can sit? Like… quiet?”
William’s heart clenched. “Yes,” he said. “They do.”
Ethan nodded once. Barely perceptible. But enough. A beginning.
The room shifted into its familiar post-walk rhythm — coats dropped, snacks requested, arguments flaring and fading.
Ordinary chaos. Ordinary warmth. William stood in the middle of it, letting the sound wash over him.
For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like something to brace against. It felt like something they might walk into together.
He waited until after dinner, when the kitchen had been cleared and the light was beginning to fail over the garden.
Then he went out to the car and retrieved the heavy bag from Bright Sparks, the cardboard edges of the games clicking together.
He set the bag on the pine table. The sound was enough to draw them in.
“What’s that?” Jake asked, eyes wide.
“A few things from the village,” William said.
He reached in and pulled out the first box.
“Jake. For the loud adventurer.”
Animal Ark Adventures. Jake gasped, hugging it to his chest.
“Are there lions?”
“And elephants.”
He turned to Sophie, who stood slightly apart.
“Sophie. For when the world gets a bit too noisy.”
Peaceful Paths. She traced the soft watercolour art, then leaned her shoulder against William’s arm.
“Ollie,” William said — and didn’t need to finish.
Ollie had already recognised the Spark Quest logo. “Yes!” He snatched the Explorer Edition, grinning. “I’m going to beat the high score before Ethan even opens his.”
“In your dreams,” Ethan muttered, though interest flickered in his eyes.
William pulled out the lighthouse-themed box.
“Mia. This one’s about building something that lasts.”
Lightkeepers. Her eyes softened. “A community?”
“That’s what James said.”
A quiet understanding passed between them.
Finally, William lifted the darker, more complex box of Flood Runner. He didn’t toss it. He placed it directly in front of Ethan.
“Leadership,” he said quietly. “Resource management. Ben thought you were the right person for it.”
Ethan ran his thumb over the matte finish, lingering on the image of a bridge rising over floodwater.
“Thanks, Dad,” he said.
It was the first time in months that his voice hadn’t sounded as though it were coming from behind a wall.
As the younger three scrambled to the floor to open their games, William felt a familiar, quiet warmth.
He looked at the chaos — the discarded wrapping, the shouting, the sudden burst of life in the room.
You were right, he thought. They did need something good.
He stayed there for a long time, leaning against the counter with a mug of tea, watching his fortress finally start to feel like a home. His parents would be back soon to look after the children overnight while William worked his shift.