The New Moon with the Old
Part 2
As they took the turn from the A38, Robin folded the driving directions Tristan had given him before leaving London and tucked them into the pocket on the door. Traffic had been light once they had left the city, and they had arrived in Cornwall in under three hours.
"Do you know the way from here?" he asked as he put his glasses into their case.
"Yes, it's just a few minutes more," Tristan replied.
Robin nodded, studying the passing landscape. The apprehension that had been building since they had left London was now steadily rising toward panic, and he wondered why he had ever agreed to this.
Without looking away from the road, Tristan grab hold of his sweaty hand and raised it to his lips for a quick kiss. "It will be fine, sweetheart. I'll be with you every minute."
"I just want Will and Meg to like me," Robin admitted.
"I can't imagine them not. Dad and Mum already do. Mum said two minutes into dinner, she knew I'd made the right choice."
Robin felt the knot in his chest relax a bit. "Did she?"
Tristan nodded, still holding his hand and rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. "You'd won Dad over by the sweet."
"Really." Robin sat back, wondering what he had said or done to win their approval. He could not remember having said much, wanting Tristan to have the chance to chat at length with his parents, a luxury their bi-weekly telephone call never allowed.
"Don't sound so surprised," Tristan chided him gently. "You're extremely likeable. Trust me."
Snorting, he protested, "I think you're a bit biased, Tris."
"It doesn't change the truth. Ah, here we are," Tristan said, turning into a drive nearly hidden amongst the trees. He pointed at a hill rising to their left. "That's where the ruins of the church I told you about are. There's a path along here somewhere that leads up to them."
As the car slowed, Robin gripped Tristan's hand tighter and was relieved when he felt the pressure returned. Swallowing hard, he tried to remember any of the nearly continuous stream of advice Jamie had offered throughout the week. 'Take deep breaths' was the only thing he could dredge up.
As they came up the drive, the door to the old stone house opened. Kate, Tristan's mother, appeared, wrapping a sweater around her shoulders and calling over her shoulder.
Tristan parked the car and turned to Robin. "Ready?" he asked.
"No?"
Tristan laughed. "Come along, you."
Taking their bags from the boot, they walked up the drive. Robin was grateful for Tristan's arm around his shoulders.
"How was the trip?" Kate asked as they came up the steps.
"I had a good navigator," Tristan said, bending to hug her. "Hello, Mum."
Robin shifted his bag into his left hand and shook hands with Tristan's father, Drew. "London was the worst part."
"That's because you don't trust the other drivers," Tristan teased him.
"Well, you don't know what they're doing, do you?" Kate reproved her son. She smiled at Robin. "We're so glad you've come, dear."
Robin hesitated, unsure whether he should kiss her or not. Kate solved his quandary by giving him a quick hug.
"Thank you for the invitation," he managed.
"Everything looks…done," Tristan commented, looking up at the house as he wrapped an arm around Robin.
"We're almost there," Drew said. "We have some landscaping to do, but that will come. I need some time to recover while your mother continues her plotting."
"Looking through magazines is hardly plotting, dear," Kate said as she led them inside.
"Are Meg and Will here yet?" Tristan asked his father.
"We're expecting them at any moment."
"They're stopping to pick up your grandmother," Kate told Tristan.
"Grand's going to be here? Fantastic!" Robin watched a smile light Tristan's face and felt guilty for his own flash of panic. "You'll adore her, Robbie. She's incredible!"
Robin thought he had nodded, but did it again when Tristan appeared to be waiting for a response. As little experience as he had with siblings, he had even less with grandparents. He remembered his stepmother Eleanor's parents visiting once or twice, but he had been very young. Jamie's family had not included grandparents. He had listened to Tristan's stories of holidays with his grandmother with something akin to awe. It had sounded like something out of a book: idyllic days spent on the coast of Cornwall in the company of an eccentric old woman who thought nothing of taking her grandsons on predawn outings with breakfast picnics tucked away in the boot of the car.
"Have you eaten lunch?" Kate asked.
"Just a sandwich in the car," Tristan told her.
"Why don't you go upstairs and unpack while I find something to tide you over until dinner?"
"That sounds good. Same room as last time?" Tristan asked as Kate disappeared toward the back of the house.
"With more furniture and fewer bats," Drew offered, winking at Robin.
"That is very much appreciated." Tristan looked at Robin. "Shall we go up?"
"Before you do," Drew began, and Robin's heart rate sped up as bright blue eyes focused on him. "Robin, these situations are always bewildering. If you need a moment to yourself, don't be afraid to go upstairs."
"Dad —" Tristan began.
"No, Tris. I've been in Robin's shoes, and I always found I needed a spot to catch my breath." He put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "All right?"
Robin resisted the urge to look at Tristan for support. "Yes, sir."
"I should go help your mum."
Robin followed Tristan up the staircase, pausing to look at the stained-glass window rising from the landing. "That's beautiful."
"Isn't it? Wait until you see it when the sun is fully on it." Tristan led him down the hall, pointing as they passed an open door. "Dad's study."
Looking at the bookcase-lined walls and the leather couches, Robin nodded. "Very handsome."
"And this is our room," Tristan said, opening the last door.
The large room had once been a bedroom with a large dressing room. Removing the wall between the two had created a sitting area overlooking the back gardens. Kate had chosen blue and white wallpaper and found a duvet in the same blue.
"Oh, I like this!" Robin said as he set his bag on the bench at the foot of the bed. He ran a careful hand over the footboard.
"All the furniture belonged to Mum's parents. It's been in storage for ages. She didn't want it damaged with all the moving we did."
"It's Sheraton, isn't it?"
Tristan laughed. "It never ceases to amaze me what you know!"
"I pay attention when we watch Antiques Roadshow," Robin pointed out. He studied a still life on the wall before wandering over to the window.
"They had to completely redo the bathroom," Tristan said, pushing open the door and inspecting it. "The damp had rotted most of the sub flooring."
Robin poked his head in. "Look at the bath!"
"You could probably swim a few laps in it," Tristan agreed.
"I'm going to change," Robin decided as he caught sight of himself in the mirror over the sink.
Opening his bag, Robin carefully drew out a gift wrapped in a jumper for protection. Setting the box to one side, he folded the jumper and put it into the chest of drawers. Tristan took their shaving kits into the bath as he changed into the silver-grey cashmere jumper and charcoal trousers he had brought to wear for dinner. Sitting down on the bench, he pulled on his shoes and watched Tristan change his clothes. Moving around each other with the ease of practice, they unpacked and put their bags in the wardrobe.
"Tris, are you up here?" a voice called.
"Will!" Tristan said, starting across the room as Robin ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.
The man who came through the door carrying their lunch could have been no one but Tristan's brother. A few inches shorter than his brother, Will had the strong jaw line, high cheekbones and colouring. His nose had been broken (at the age of twelve by his brother), but otherwise the resemblance was strong. The warmth in his eyes and his wide grin calmed some of Robin's nerves.
Setting the tray on the chest of drawers, he grabbed Tristan and gave him a hard hug. "I knew you'd show up once the work was done." He turned to Robin and offered an enthusiastic handshake. "Robin, good to meet you."
"H-hello."
"Meg and the baby?" Tristan asked.
"Still in the car," Will said. "Gemma fussed all morning, and when she fell asleep on the way over, Meg decided not to wake her. It'll go easier on all of us if she's rested."
"Mum said you were stopping for Grand."
"Yes, she's downstairs." He shook his head. "Tough old bird. I hope I'm that sharp when I'm ninety."
"I wish I were that sharp now," Tristan told him, and they both laughed. "So you just left Meg and Gemma in the car?"
"This is hardly London, Tris. Besides, Meg said something about taking advantage of the quiet to finish some reading before court on Monday."
"I hardly blame her."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Will huffed.
"Will, I haven't forgotten what living with you was like. I don't imagine you've become any quieter, and from what Mum and Dad have said, Gemma's very much her father's daughter."
"Robin," Will ordered, "don't listen to a single word he says. When we have time, I'll tell you what growing up with Tris was like."
Tristan snorted. "Revisionist history, I'm sure."
"Look, I'm going to check on Meg and the baby. Mum said you should eat something and then be downstairs in half an hour or so. Robin, good to meet you at last." Without waiting for a response, he left, closing the door with a thump.
Robin stood slightly stunned, staring at the door.
"Now you see I wasn't exaggerating about Will."
"He's very … hail-fellow-well-met, isn't he?"
"Mum says he had colic when he was a baby and hasn't quieted down since." Tristan picked up the tray and carried it over to the club chairs by the window. "Come and eat."
Robin followed him, dropping into a chair. "I'm not very hungry, Tris, really."
"I know, sweetheart. It's nerves."
"It is," Robin agreed, "but knowing doesn't help the calming down."
Tristan smiled. "Look, bread and butter. Fancy you can manage that?"
Robin acquiesced, taking a slice from the plate Tristan held out. Granary bread had been cut into thick slices and buttered by a liberal hand. Robin took a small bite, then another larger one.
"'S good," he mumbled. "Homemade?"
"Dad's bread machine most likely," Tristan said, handing him a coffee. "He's mad for it, and Mum only encourages him."
Before Robin was quite sure how it had happened, he had managed two slices of bread. "Is there more?"
Tristan offered him the last slice and then sat back, sipping his own coffee and watching Robin eat. "That will keep you until dinner."
Robin nodded his agreement as he continued chewing. "When should we give your mother the gift we brought?"
"Whenever you like. Mum will be pleased that you've —"
"We've," Robin corrected him. "It's from both of us."
"But you did all the work. You decided what you wanted, you went lord-knows-how-many places before you found it, and then you wrapped it. That was incredibly thoughtful, Robbie."
Robin shrugged and focused his attention on the last few bites of bread. It had quieted the butterflies in his stomach for the moment. When he looked up again, Tristan was studying him.
"Crumbs?" he asked, reaching for a serviette and wiping his mouth.
"No, enjoying the view." Standing, Tristan picked up the tray. "Ready to beard the lions?"
Robin adjusted the bow on their gift. "Am I presentable?"
Tristan kissed him. "Very."
Robin followed him back along the hall, nervous that the moment had finally arrived but relieved at the same time. He had dreaded this since Tristan had mentioned it, and had spent most of his waking hours thinking about it. Now the time had finally come, and there was no going back. He had Tristan, and that was all the support he needed.
Tristan stopped on the landing and nodded toward the stained-glass window. "Look at it now."
The afternoon sun illuminated the glass, making the colours glow and the facets dance with light. Robin had never seen anything like it.
"It looks like a tapestry!"
"The builder found it inside the walls," Tristan said, leading the way down the stairs. "Apparently someone covered it over at some point."
"Why would you? It's stunning."
"Perhaps they were protecting it and then just forgot about it." Tristan turned toward the back of the house. Nodding toward open glass doors, he said, "The solarium."
A little girl with flyaway blond hair appeared in the hallway, holding a well-loved doll by the leg. With one look at them, she rushed away, calling, "Mummy!"
"Gemma?" Robin asked as he trailed Tristan through the house.
"Gemma."
"She's very small, isn't she?"
Tristan smiled. "Robbie, she's not quite two."
"I know, but I'd expected she'd be bigger from what you've said."
"There are times she's quite huge," a voice commented from the lounge. "I think there's a direct correlation between how she's behaving and her size. Someone ought to do a study on it."
"Meg!"
"Tris," Meg said, shifting Gemma so she could return his kiss. "Hello, Robin! It's good to meet you."
"Thank you, it's good to meet you as well."
"Gemma, this is your Uncle Tris."
Gemma buried her face in Meg's neck and grabbed a handful of her dark, curly hair.
"Gem, let go," Meg chided, trying to free herself.
Tristan studied her for a moment. "Your hair… it's, ah, longer, isn't it?"
She finally disentangled Gemma's hand. "Is that a nice way of saying I look like a wild woman? There just aren't enough hours in the day to do everything so I keep putting it off. " She smiled at Robin. "Honestly, I used to be better put together."
"I warned you this would happen if you married Will," Tristan reminded her. He looked down at the tray he was carrying. "I'm going to take this through to the kitchen."
Robin looked at him. What had happened to his promise not to leave him?
Tristan gave him a quick kiss. "I'll be right back."
As Tristan walked away, Robin felt his mind empty of coherent thought. He looked at Meg and tried to smile.
"Daddy?" Gemma asked, watching Tristan disappear through the dining room.
"No, that's Uncle Tris," Meg corrected her as she put her down and watched her toddle off in the direction Tristan had gone. "Although I understand her confusion."
"They do look alike," Robin agreed.
"Especially when you're that size." She gestured toward the package Robin held. "Is that for Kate?"
Robin looked at the box and hurriedly set it down on the coffee table. "Hostess gift."
"Oh, she'll be over the moon!"
"It's nothing."
"Robin, Kate absolutely adores gifts." She looked at Robin's face. "I suppose Tris didn't mention that?"
"Not in so many words."
"Well, thank heaven you have me now to explain all this to you." She patted his shoulder. "I'll pass on all the wisdom I've gained over the past six years."
"And what wisdom would that be?" Tristan asked, carrying in a plate of cheese and biscuits.
"All the things about this family I've been forced to discover on my own because no one thought they were important enough to tell me. "
"Oh, those things. I thought we'd seem more exciting if he learned them on the fly." Tristan glanced over Robin's shoulder to the hallway. "There you are, Grand!" Grabbing Robin's hand, he led him to the small, white-haired woman leaning on her cane. He hugged her with great care. "Hello, darling!"
"You look well, my dear," she said, patting his face.
"Very well. I want you to meet Robin." He wrapped an arm around Robin's shoulder. "Grand, this is Robin Duncan. Robbie, this is my grandmother."
Robin took the hand she offered him, wondering if this was how it felt to meet the Queen. "How do you do, Mrs. Averill? It's an honour to meet you."
Her blue eyes reminded Robin very much of Drew's. The thick lenses in her glasses magnified them, but Robin doubted they missed very much. "I've heard so much about you, dear. Kate is right; you are a beautiful boy."
Robin felt the heat rise in his face, and he looked at Tristan.
"Mum, stop flirting with Robin. You'll scare him to death," Drew chided as he carried in a tray of drinks.
"Nonsense! A handsome thing like that should be used to it," she returned. "And if he isn't, then you're not my grandson," she said to Tristan as he escorted her to a chair.
Will and Kate carried in two more plates — one with fruit and the other with a hot hors-d'oeuvre. Kate turned one of the lamps on and then stopped to survey the room before accepting the drink her husband offered.
Tristan took the last two gin and tonics from his father's tray and handed one to Robin. "Very little gin by special request," he murmured.
"Thank you," Robin said as he took a sip. Tristan had warned him about the strength of his father's drinks. If Drew considered this weak, he was very glad he did not have the full-strength version.
Gemma came in with a chipped cup and looked from it to the people towering over her. "'Sta, Gan!" she announced, going to her great-grandmother who was the only one sitting down and handing it to her.
"Why, thank you, dear." As she took the empty cup, she looked to Meg for an explanation.
"Pasta," Meg explained. "She likes it when she's had a bad day."
Will picked up a small slice of cheese. "Gem, would you like a bite?"
Gemma took it with two careful fingers and put most of it in her mouth. "Cheese!"
Tristan and Robin sat down on the couch, Tristan on the end nearest his grandmother. Everyone else found places and helped themselves to something to eat. Robin picked up a cheese straw and nibbled it. When he looked up, Meg caught his eye and looked hard at the cheese plate. He followed the line of her gaze to a strangely speckled cheese. When he looked back at her, she mouthed the word 'hot' and fanned her mouth. Nodding, he picked up a piece of pear.
Robin wondered how one family could simultaneously hold conversations on three different subjects with everyone participating in all of them. It was so well choreographed that no one lost track of any of the conversational threads. He began relaxing as he realised he was not the centre of attention he had feared he would be. Gemma wandered in and out, occasionally handing someone a toy or offering incomprehensible opinions. Her parents seemed to understand most of them with Kate and Drew not far behind.
When Gemma spotted the gift on the table, she made a beeline for it, and Will grabbed it just in time. She squawked (there was no other word for it) her disappointment, stretching up for it.
"No, that's for Grandma," Meg said, gesturing for Will to hand it to Kate.
Kate looked from the box to Will in surprise. "For me?"
"From Robin and Tris," Meg told her.
Robin felt himself blush again. "To say thank you for having us," he managed. He slipped his hand into Tristan's.
Kate unwrapped it, giving the ribbon and paper to Gemma who appeared perfectly content with the substitution. Lifting the lid, Kate pushed aside the layer of tissue. "What is...? Oh, it's lovely!" She held up the yellow chintz-ware teapot. "How did you know I've wanted one forever?" she demanded.
"The night I met you, do you remember walking to your hotel after dinner?" Robin asked.
"Yes, we stopped to look in the window of that outrageously expensive antique store on the corner."
Robin nodded. "You pointed out a pink chintz-ware milk jug, but you said you'd always preferred the yellow."
"And he went all over London to find a piece he liked for you," Tristan finished.
Robin squirmed. "It wasn't all over London."
Kate put the teapot back into its box. "I have hinted for a piece for the longest time, Robin. I will treasure this."
"You never said a word!" Drew sputtered.
"Dear, I all but wrote it in the sky."
The women in the room shared a look as the Averill men stared first at Kate and then each other. Robin watched them all, trying to sort the whole thing out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As they walked into the dining room for dinner, Tristan escorted his grandmother to her place and then moved to his accustomed place across the table from her. Kate directed Robin to the chair to his right. Robin flashed a small smile as he sat down.
"All right so far?" Tristan asked in a quiet aside.
Shaking out his napkin, Robin answered with a quick nod.
"Robin dear," Grand said from her place across the table, "I've read one of your father's books, and Kate told me you're a writer as well."
"Grand," Tristan began as he shot his mother a look. He had asked her to warn everyone not to mention Robin's writing.
Robin said in an undertone, "It's fine, Tris."
"Not if it makes you uncomfortable."
"I thought it might come up," Robin said, his eyes flicking to the rest of the family who were trying very hard to give the appearance of not listening. "And if it doesn't now, it will in the future."
Tristan gave him a long look. "You're certain?"
"I don't mind them knowing." When Tristan relaxed into his chair, he turned to Grand. "I don't write on the same subjects my father does."
She took a sip of wine and picked up her cutlery. "I must say I didn't enjoy his book, but I suppose one isn't meant to."
"Have you had anything published?" Will asked from her left.
Robin's colour rose as it always did when he mentioned his book, even with Tristan. "I had a book published a year and a half ago."
"How marvellous!" Meg commented as she helped herself to potatoes and put a small amount in Gemma's bowl. "Would we have heard of it?"
"You might have," Robin admitted.
Everyone stopped eating, and five friendly, curious faces turned toward Robin. He fumbled for his glass of wine, shooting Tristan a silent plea for help as his nerve failed.
Tristan nodded as he took a serving of vegetables and handed the bowl along to Robin. "I know for a fact that Meg and Will have a copy."
Will shot a look at his wife. "We have?"
"You have because I gave it to Gemma for her first birthday." He paused and watched the penny drop in Meg's mind.
"You wrote Beyond the Hedgerow?" she demanded. "I adore that book!"
The next few minutes were a confusing blend of sound. Meg had insisted Will read the book when she finished, then bought a copy for Kate. Kate and then Drew had both read and loved it. After Meg and Kate had told her about it, Grand had read it and then recommended it to the ladies of the local W.I.
"— And they adored it! It reminded me of The Wind in the Willows. Have you been told that?"
"Thank you, that was my favourite book growing up."
Tristan could not help grinning at everyone's excitement. Even Gemma had joined in, smacking her spoon on her tray and shouting.
It seemed as if an hour passed before they calmed down to the point people began eating again. When Robin picked up his fork, Tristan saw his hand shake. Reaching over, he gave his back a brief rub of unspoken support. There were questions as they continued dinner, but for Robin, the worst part, the telling, was over.
After they finished the apricot tart liberally drenched in cream, things grew quieter. They all helped clear away to the kitchen, Robin scraping and stacking dishes so Tristan could load them into the dishwasher. Kate and Drew put food away before taking the coffee tray into the lounge. Meg and Will took Gemma upstairs to bathe and change into pyjamas for the trip home.
When they finished organizing the dishes, Tristan and Robin joined Kate, Drew and Grand in the lounge. Helping themselves to coffee and chocolates, Tristan and Robin sat down on the couch again.
Tristan cleared his throat. "There's one more thing you should all understand. There are only a dozen or so people who know Robin is Robin Elliott, and we'd both very much like to keep it that way. He's worked very hard to keep his privacy."
"We'll keep it to ourselves," Drew promised, looking sternly at his wife and mother.
"Of course we will," Kate agreed. "If that's what you want."
Tristan gave her the same steely look her husband had. "It is."
"May I ask?" Grand said to Robin. "Will there be another book?"
Robin swallowed his mouthful of chocolate. "I'm writing it now."
"Oh, how delightful! I'm very glad to hear that."
When Meg and Will returned with the baby, Tristan exacted the same promise as he had from his parents and grandmother. They readily agreed although, from the look on his face, Will did not understand Robin's reluctance.
"Grand, are you almost ready?" Meg asked before he could formulate a protest.
"Yes, dear. It has been a very pleasant evening, but I'm looking forward to my bed." Setting her cup on the table beside her, she looked for and found her cane. With Drew's helping hand, she stood up. "I brought a jumper with me, didn't I?"
"It's on the bench in the hallway," Kate told her. "Tristan, would you?"
Tristan hurried out. Finding it, he carried it back in and helped his grandmother into it. He bent to kiss her, and she caught his face between her hands.
"He is a very dear soul, " she told him. "Take great care of him."
"Always, Grand," he assured her then kissed her cheek.
"Come and visit an old woman when you have a mind. Now that it's warmer, you could go out on the Dart."
"We'll come down for a weekend soon."
She patted his arm. "Good. Now go protect Robin."
Robin stood with his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable as the Averills kissed one another and the baby good night.
"Will, take your daughter out to the car," Meg ordered as she gave Robin a quick kiss on the cheek. "You'll become accustomed to the chaos, believe it or not."
"Mum, I'll walk you out," Drew said, offering his arm.
The noise diminished by two-thirds when the front door closed. Kate, Tristan and Robin watched from the front windows as the rest of the family settled in the car. As Will fastened the harness of Gemma's seat, Drew gently shut his mother's door and stepped back. A quick hug between the two men, and Will climbed in and started the car. A moment later, they saw the brake lights flash before he pulled away into the darkness.
"Heavens, that was exhausting!" Kate said as they went back into the lounge. "The best times always are, aren't they?"
"It was a delicious dinner," Robin told her.
"Did you like the tart? Tris said it was one of your favourites."
"It was the best I've had in ages."
"'In ages'?" Tristan teased as they settled on the couch.
"I'll need another slice before I can say 'ever'."
"When you're hungry, dear, it's in the pantry. "
"Thank you," Robin murmured, making an obvious effort not to lean against Tristan as he swallowed a yawn.
"Come here, you," Tristan said, snaking an arm around him and pulling him over.
Drew came in with a carafe and held it up. "Anyone for more coffee?" he asked.
"That sounds good," Tristan said, holding up his cup.
Kate shook her head. "What have I said about pouring in mid-air? If you get so much as a drop on that carpet, I'll throttle the pair of you!"
"And don't think she won't," Drew added as he poured. "Robin?"
"No, thank you. Everything was lovely, though."
"We're so glad you enjoyed it," Kate assured him.
Tristan sipped his coffee and listened to his parents talk. He took a breath, enjoying the combination of scents: his coffee, the shampoo Robin used, the flower arrangement on the table beside him. He was full, content and relaxed; Robin a warm weight against his side.
"Robbie, I think we should go to bed before we fall asleep here. We've had a long day."
Robin roused enough to say goodnight, kissing Kate's cheek and receiving a clap on the shoulder from Drew. Setting his cup on the coffee tray, Tristan kissed both his parents goodnight. The murmur of their voices followed them as they climbed the stairs and turned toward the back of the house.
Tristan turned on the bedside lamp as Robin continued toward the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came out, Tristan had laid his nightclothes on the foot of the bed. Nearly stumbling in his exhaustion, he toed off his shoes and pulled his jumper over his head. As he pulled off his clothes, Tristan patiently took them from him and folded them.
"…Can do that," Robin protested through a yawn.
"Just keep going, darling."
Robin slid into bed as Tristan changed. Putting their clothes away, he opened the window an inch, then went in to brush his teeth. He left the bathroom light on and closed the door. The sheets were cool as he slid into bed, the weight of blanket and duvet welcome. He snapped off the lamp and stretched out. Robin shifted so he lay comfortably sprawled across him, Tristan rubbing his back as he settled.
"Everyone thought you were marvellous, Robbie," he murmured.
"They were brilliant." He lifted his head to look at Tristan. "Your grandmother is smashing." He leaned in to kiss Tristan then laid down his head again.
Tristan lay listening to the steady rhythm of Robin's breathing until everything slowly faded away into sleep.
Part 3
"Do you know the way from here?" he asked as he put his glasses into their case.
"Yes, it's just a few minutes more," Tristan replied.
Robin nodded, studying the passing landscape. The apprehension that had been building since they had left London was now steadily rising toward panic, and he wondered why he had ever agreed to this.
Without looking away from the road, Tristan grab hold of his sweaty hand and raised it to his lips for a quick kiss. "It will be fine, sweetheart. I'll be with you every minute."
"I just want Will and Meg to like me," Robin admitted.
"I can't imagine them not. Dad and Mum already do. Mum said two minutes into dinner, she knew I'd made the right choice."
Robin felt the knot in his chest relax a bit. "Did she?"
Tristan nodded, still holding his hand and rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. "You'd won Dad over by the sweet."
"Really." Robin sat back, wondering what he had said or done to win their approval. He could not remember having said much, wanting Tristan to have the chance to chat at length with his parents, a luxury their bi-weekly telephone call never allowed.
"Don't sound so surprised," Tristan chided him gently. "You're extremely likeable. Trust me."
Snorting, he protested, "I think you're a bit biased, Tris."
"It doesn't change the truth. Ah, here we are," Tristan said, turning into a drive nearly hidden amongst the trees. He pointed at a hill rising to their left. "That's where the ruins of the church I told you about are. There's a path along here somewhere that leads up to them."
As the car slowed, Robin gripped Tristan's hand tighter and was relieved when he felt the pressure returned. Swallowing hard, he tried to remember any of the nearly continuous stream of advice Jamie had offered throughout the week. 'Take deep breaths' was the only thing he could dredge up.
As they came up the drive, the door to the old stone house opened. Kate, Tristan's mother, appeared, wrapping a sweater around her shoulders and calling over her shoulder.
Tristan parked the car and turned to Robin. "Ready?" he asked.
"No?"
Tristan laughed. "Come along, you."
Taking their bags from the boot, they walked up the drive. Robin was grateful for Tristan's arm around his shoulders.
"How was the trip?" Kate asked as they came up the steps.
"I had a good navigator," Tristan said, bending to hug her. "Hello, Mum."
Robin shifted his bag into his left hand and shook hands with Tristan's father, Drew. "London was the worst part."
"That's because you don't trust the other drivers," Tristan teased him.
"Well, you don't know what they're doing, do you?" Kate reproved her son. She smiled at Robin. "We're so glad you've come, dear."
Robin hesitated, unsure whether he should kiss her or not. Kate solved his quandary by giving him a quick hug.
"Thank you for the invitation," he managed.
"Everything looks…done," Tristan commented, looking up at the house as he wrapped an arm around Robin.
"We're almost there," Drew said. "We have some landscaping to do, but that will come. I need some time to recover while your mother continues her plotting."
"Looking through magazines is hardly plotting, dear," Kate said as she led them inside.
"Are Meg and Will here yet?" Tristan asked his father.
"We're expecting them at any moment."
"They're stopping to pick up your grandmother," Kate told Tristan.
"Grand's going to be here? Fantastic!" Robin watched a smile light Tristan's face and felt guilty for his own flash of panic. "You'll adore her, Robbie. She's incredible!"
Robin thought he had nodded, but did it again when Tristan appeared to be waiting for a response. As little experience as he had with siblings, he had even less with grandparents. He remembered his stepmother Eleanor's parents visiting once or twice, but he had been very young. Jamie's family had not included grandparents. He had listened to Tristan's stories of holidays with his grandmother with something akin to awe. It had sounded like something out of a book: idyllic days spent on the coast of Cornwall in the company of an eccentric old woman who thought nothing of taking her grandsons on predawn outings with breakfast picnics tucked away in the boot of the car.
"Have you eaten lunch?" Kate asked.
"Just a sandwich in the car," Tristan told her.
"Why don't you go upstairs and unpack while I find something to tide you over until dinner?"
"That sounds good. Same room as last time?" Tristan asked as Kate disappeared toward the back of the house.
"With more furniture and fewer bats," Drew offered, winking at Robin.
"That is very much appreciated." Tristan looked at Robin. "Shall we go up?"
"Before you do," Drew began, and Robin's heart rate sped up as bright blue eyes focused on him. "Robin, these situations are always bewildering. If you need a moment to yourself, don't be afraid to go upstairs."
"Dad —" Tristan began.
"No, Tris. I've been in Robin's shoes, and I always found I needed a spot to catch my breath." He put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "All right?"
Robin resisted the urge to look at Tristan for support. "Yes, sir."
"I should go help your mum."
Robin followed Tristan up the staircase, pausing to look at the stained-glass window rising from the landing. "That's beautiful."
"Isn't it? Wait until you see it when the sun is fully on it." Tristan led him down the hall, pointing as they passed an open door. "Dad's study."
Looking at the bookcase-lined walls and the leather couches, Robin nodded. "Very handsome."
"And this is our room," Tristan said, opening the last door.
The large room had once been a bedroom with a large dressing room. Removing the wall between the two had created a sitting area overlooking the back gardens. Kate had chosen blue and white wallpaper and found a duvet in the same blue.
"Oh, I like this!" Robin said as he set his bag on the bench at the foot of the bed. He ran a careful hand over the footboard.
"All the furniture belonged to Mum's parents. It's been in storage for ages. She didn't want it damaged with all the moving we did."
"It's Sheraton, isn't it?"
Tristan laughed. "It never ceases to amaze me what you know!"
"I pay attention when we watch Antiques Roadshow," Robin pointed out. He studied a still life on the wall before wandering over to the window.
"They had to completely redo the bathroom," Tristan said, pushing open the door and inspecting it. "The damp had rotted most of the sub flooring."
Robin poked his head in. "Look at the bath!"
"You could probably swim a few laps in it," Tristan agreed.
"I'm going to change," Robin decided as he caught sight of himself in the mirror over the sink.
Opening his bag, Robin carefully drew out a gift wrapped in a jumper for protection. Setting the box to one side, he folded the jumper and put it into the chest of drawers. Tristan took their shaving kits into the bath as he changed into the silver-grey cashmere jumper and charcoal trousers he had brought to wear for dinner. Sitting down on the bench, he pulled on his shoes and watched Tristan change his clothes. Moving around each other with the ease of practice, they unpacked and put their bags in the wardrobe.
"Tris, are you up here?" a voice called.
"Will!" Tristan said, starting across the room as Robin ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.
The man who came through the door carrying their lunch could have been no one but Tristan's brother. A few inches shorter than his brother, Will had the strong jaw line, high cheekbones and colouring. His nose had been broken (at the age of twelve by his brother), but otherwise the resemblance was strong. The warmth in his eyes and his wide grin calmed some of Robin's nerves.
Setting the tray on the chest of drawers, he grabbed Tristan and gave him a hard hug. "I knew you'd show up once the work was done." He turned to Robin and offered an enthusiastic handshake. "Robin, good to meet you."
"H-hello."
"Meg and the baby?" Tristan asked.
"Still in the car," Will said. "Gemma fussed all morning, and when she fell asleep on the way over, Meg decided not to wake her. It'll go easier on all of us if she's rested."
"Mum said you were stopping for Grand."
"Yes, she's downstairs." He shook his head. "Tough old bird. I hope I'm that sharp when I'm ninety."
"I wish I were that sharp now," Tristan told him, and they both laughed. "So you just left Meg and Gemma in the car?"
"This is hardly London, Tris. Besides, Meg said something about taking advantage of the quiet to finish some reading before court on Monday."
"I hardly blame her."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Will huffed.
"Will, I haven't forgotten what living with you was like. I don't imagine you've become any quieter, and from what Mum and Dad have said, Gemma's very much her father's daughter."
"Robin," Will ordered, "don't listen to a single word he says. When we have time, I'll tell you what growing up with Tris was like."
Tristan snorted. "Revisionist history, I'm sure."
"Look, I'm going to check on Meg and the baby. Mum said you should eat something and then be downstairs in half an hour or so. Robin, good to meet you at last." Without waiting for a response, he left, closing the door with a thump.
Robin stood slightly stunned, staring at the door.
"Now you see I wasn't exaggerating about Will."
"He's very … hail-fellow-well-met, isn't he?"
"Mum says he had colic when he was a baby and hasn't quieted down since." Tristan picked up the tray and carried it over to the club chairs by the window. "Come and eat."
Robin followed him, dropping into a chair. "I'm not very hungry, Tris, really."
"I know, sweetheart. It's nerves."
"It is," Robin agreed, "but knowing doesn't help the calming down."
Tristan smiled. "Look, bread and butter. Fancy you can manage that?"
Robin acquiesced, taking a slice from the plate Tristan held out. Granary bread had been cut into thick slices and buttered by a liberal hand. Robin took a small bite, then another larger one.
"'S good," he mumbled. "Homemade?"
"Dad's bread machine most likely," Tristan said, handing him a coffee. "He's mad for it, and Mum only encourages him."
Before Robin was quite sure how it had happened, he had managed two slices of bread. "Is there more?"
Tristan offered him the last slice and then sat back, sipping his own coffee and watching Robin eat. "That will keep you until dinner."
Robin nodded his agreement as he continued chewing. "When should we give your mother the gift we brought?"
"Whenever you like. Mum will be pleased that you've —"
"We've," Robin corrected him. "It's from both of us."
"But you did all the work. You decided what you wanted, you went lord-knows-how-many places before you found it, and then you wrapped it. That was incredibly thoughtful, Robbie."
Robin shrugged and focused his attention on the last few bites of bread. It had quieted the butterflies in his stomach for the moment. When he looked up again, Tristan was studying him.
"Crumbs?" he asked, reaching for a serviette and wiping his mouth.
"No, enjoying the view." Standing, Tristan picked up the tray. "Ready to beard the lions?"
Robin adjusted the bow on their gift. "Am I presentable?"
Tristan kissed him. "Very."
Robin followed him back along the hall, nervous that the moment had finally arrived but relieved at the same time. He had dreaded this since Tristan had mentioned it, and had spent most of his waking hours thinking about it. Now the time had finally come, and there was no going back. He had Tristan, and that was all the support he needed.
Tristan stopped on the landing and nodded toward the stained-glass window. "Look at it now."
The afternoon sun illuminated the glass, making the colours glow and the facets dance with light. Robin had never seen anything like it.
"It looks like a tapestry!"
"The builder found it inside the walls," Tristan said, leading the way down the stairs. "Apparently someone covered it over at some point."
"Why would you? It's stunning."
"Perhaps they were protecting it and then just forgot about it." Tristan turned toward the back of the house. Nodding toward open glass doors, he said, "The solarium."
A little girl with flyaway blond hair appeared in the hallway, holding a well-loved doll by the leg. With one look at them, she rushed away, calling, "Mummy!"
"Gemma?" Robin asked as he trailed Tristan through the house.
"Gemma."
"She's very small, isn't she?"
Tristan smiled. "Robbie, she's not quite two."
"I know, but I'd expected she'd be bigger from what you've said."
"There are times she's quite huge," a voice commented from the lounge. "I think there's a direct correlation between how she's behaving and her size. Someone ought to do a study on it."
"Meg!"
"Tris," Meg said, shifting Gemma so she could return his kiss. "Hello, Robin! It's good to meet you."
"Thank you, it's good to meet you as well."
"Gemma, this is your Uncle Tris."
Gemma buried her face in Meg's neck and grabbed a handful of her dark, curly hair.
"Gem, let go," Meg chided, trying to free herself.
Tristan studied her for a moment. "Your hair… it's, ah, longer, isn't it?"
She finally disentangled Gemma's hand. "Is that a nice way of saying I look like a wild woman? There just aren't enough hours in the day to do everything so I keep putting it off. " She smiled at Robin. "Honestly, I used to be better put together."
"I warned you this would happen if you married Will," Tristan reminded her. He looked down at the tray he was carrying. "I'm going to take this through to the kitchen."
Robin looked at him. What had happened to his promise not to leave him?
Tristan gave him a quick kiss. "I'll be right back."
As Tristan walked away, Robin felt his mind empty of coherent thought. He looked at Meg and tried to smile.
"Daddy?" Gemma asked, watching Tristan disappear through the dining room.
"No, that's Uncle Tris," Meg corrected her as she put her down and watched her toddle off in the direction Tristan had gone. "Although I understand her confusion."
"They do look alike," Robin agreed.
"Especially when you're that size." She gestured toward the package Robin held. "Is that for Kate?"
Robin looked at the box and hurriedly set it down on the coffee table. "Hostess gift."
"Oh, she'll be over the moon!"
"It's nothing."
"Robin, Kate absolutely adores gifts." She looked at Robin's face. "I suppose Tris didn't mention that?"
"Not in so many words."
"Well, thank heaven you have me now to explain all this to you." She patted his shoulder. "I'll pass on all the wisdom I've gained over the past six years."
"And what wisdom would that be?" Tristan asked, carrying in a plate of cheese and biscuits.
"All the things about this family I've been forced to discover on my own because no one thought they were important enough to tell me. "
"Oh, those things. I thought we'd seem more exciting if he learned them on the fly." Tristan glanced over Robin's shoulder to the hallway. "There you are, Grand!" Grabbing Robin's hand, he led him to the small, white-haired woman leaning on her cane. He hugged her with great care. "Hello, darling!"
"You look well, my dear," she said, patting his face.
"Very well. I want you to meet Robin." He wrapped an arm around Robin's shoulder. "Grand, this is Robin Duncan. Robbie, this is my grandmother."
Robin took the hand she offered him, wondering if this was how it felt to meet the Queen. "How do you do, Mrs. Averill? It's an honour to meet you."
Her blue eyes reminded Robin very much of Drew's. The thick lenses in her glasses magnified them, but Robin doubted they missed very much. "I've heard so much about you, dear. Kate is right; you are a beautiful boy."
Robin felt the heat rise in his face, and he looked at Tristan.
"Mum, stop flirting with Robin. You'll scare him to death," Drew chided as he carried in a tray of drinks.
"Nonsense! A handsome thing like that should be used to it," she returned. "And if he isn't, then you're not my grandson," she said to Tristan as he escorted her to a chair.
Will and Kate carried in two more plates — one with fruit and the other with a hot hors-d'oeuvre. Kate turned one of the lamps on and then stopped to survey the room before accepting the drink her husband offered.
Tristan took the last two gin and tonics from his father's tray and handed one to Robin. "Very little gin by special request," he murmured.
"Thank you," Robin said as he took a sip. Tristan had warned him about the strength of his father's drinks. If Drew considered this weak, he was very glad he did not have the full-strength version.
Gemma came in with a chipped cup and looked from it to the people towering over her. "'Sta, Gan!" she announced, going to her great-grandmother who was the only one sitting down and handing it to her.
"Why, thank you, dear." As she took the empty cup, she looked to Meg for an explanation.
"Pasta," Meg explained. "She likes it when she's had a bad day."
Will picked up a small slice of cheese. "Gem, would you like a bite?"
Gemma took it with two careful fingers and put most of it in her mouth. "Cheese!"
Tristan and Robin sat down on the couch, Tristan on the end nearest his grandmother. Everyone else found places and helped themselves to something to eat. Robin picked up a cheese straw and nibbled it. When he looked up, Meg caught his eye and looked hard at the cheese plate. He followed the line of her gaze to a strangely speckled cheese. When he looked back at her, she mouthed the word 'hot' and fanned her mouth. Nodding, he picked up a piece of pear.
Robin wondered how one family could simultaneously hold conversations on three different subjects with everyone participating in all of them. It was so well choreographed that no one lost track of any of the conversational threads. He began relaxing as he realised he was not the centre of attention he had feared he would be. Gemma wandered in and out, occasionally handing someone a toy or offering incomprehensible opinions. Her parents seemed to understand most of them with Kate and Drew not far behind.
When Gemma spotted the gift on the table, she made a beeline for it, and Will grabbed it just in time. She squawked (there was no other word for it) her disappointment, stretching up for it.
"No, that's for Grandma," Meg said, gesturing for Will to hand it to Kate.
Kate looked from the box to Will in surprise. "For me?"
"From Robin and Tris," Meg told her.
Robin felt himself blush again. "To say thank you for having us," he managed. He slipped his hand into Tristan's.
Kate unwrapped it, giving the ribbon and paper to Gemma who appeared perfectly content with the substitution. Lifting the lid, Kate pushed aside the layer of tissue. "What is...? Oh, it's lovely!" She held up the yellow chintz-ware teapot. "How did you know I've wanted one forever?" she demanded.
"The night I met you, do you remember walking to your hotel after dinner?" Robin asked.
"Yes, we stopped to look in the window of that outrageously expensive antique store on the corner."
Robin nodded. "You pointed out a pink chintz-ware milk jug, but you said you'd always preferred the yellow."
"And he went all over London to find a piece he liked for you," Tristan finished.
Robin squirmed. "It wasn't all over London."
Kate put the teapot back into its box. "I have hinted for a piece for the longest time, Robin. I will treasure this."
"You never said a word!" Drew sputtered.
"Dear, I all but wrote it in the sky."
The women in the room shared a look as the Averill men stared first at Kate and then each other. Robin watched them all, trying to sort the whole thing out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As they walked into the dining room for dinner, Tristan escorted his grandmother to her place and then moved to his accustomed place across the table from her. Kate directed Robin to the chair to his right. Robin flashed a small smile as he sat down.
"All right so far?" Tristan asked in a quiet aside.
Shaking out his napkin, Robin answered with a quick nod.
"Robin dear," Grand said from her place across the table, "I've read one of your father's books, and Kate told me you're a writer as well."
"Grand," Tristan began as he shot his mother a look. He had asked her to warn everyone not to mention Robin's writing.
Robin said in an undertone, "It's fine, Tris."
"Not if it makes you uncomfortable."
"I thought it might come up," Robin said, his eyes flicking to the rest of the family who were trying very hard to give the appearance of not listening. "And if it doesn't now, it will in the future."
Tristan gave him a long look. "You're certain?"
"I don't mind them knowing." When Tristan relaxed into his chair, he turned to Grand. "I don't write on the same subjects my father does."
She took a sip of wine and picked up her cutlery. "I must say I didn't enjoy his book, but I suppose one isn't meant to."
"Have you had anything published?" Will asked from her left.
Robin's colour rose as it always did when he mentioned his book, even with Tristan. "I had a book published a year and a half ago."
"How marvellous!" Meg commented as she helped herself to potatoes and put a small amount in Gemma's bowl. "Would we have heard of it?"
"You might have," Robin admitted.
Everyone stopped eating, and five friendly, curious faces turned toward Robin. He fumbled for his glass of wine, shooting Tristan a silent plea for help as his nerve failed.
Tristan nodded as he took a serving of vegetables and handed the bowl along to Robin. "I know for a fact that Meg and Will have a copy."
Will shot a look at his wife. "We have?"
"You have because I gave it to Gemma for her first birthday." He paused and watched the penny drop in Meg's mind.
"You wrote Beyond the Hedgerow?" she demanded. "I adore that book!"
The next few minutes were a confusing blend of sound. Meg had insisted Will read the book when she finished, then bought a copy for Kate. Kate and then Drew had both read and loved it. After Meg and Kate had told her about it, Grand had read it and then recommended it to the ladies of the local W.I.
"— And they adored it! It reminded me of The Wind in the Willows. Have you been told that?"
"Thank you, that was my favourite book growing up."
Tristan could not help grinning at everyone's excitement. Even Gemma had joined in, smacking her spoon on her tray and shouting.
It seemed as if an hour passed before they calmed down to the point people began eating again. When Robin picked up his fork, Tristan saw his hand shake. Reaching over, he gave his back a brief rub of unspoken support. There were questions as they continued dinner, but for Robin, the worst part, the telling, was over.
After they finished the apricot tart liberally drenched in cream, things grew quieter. They all helped clear away to the kitchen, Robin scraping and stacking dishes so Tristan could load them into the dishwasher. Kate and Drew put food away before taking the coffee tray into the lounge. Meg and Will took Gemma upstairs to bathe and change into pyjamas for the trip home.
When they finished organizing the dishes, Tristan and Robin joined Kate, Drew and Grand in the lounge. Helping themselves to coffee and chocolates, Tristan and Robin sat down on the couch again.
Tristan cleared his throat. "There's one more thing you should all understand. There are only a dozen or so people who know Robin is Robin Elliott, and we'd both very much like to keep it that way. He's worked very hard to keep his privacy."
"We'll keep it to ourselves," Drew promised, looking sternly at his wife and mother.
"Of course we will," Kate agreed. "If that's what you want."
Tristan gave her the same steely look her husband had. "It is."
"May I ask?" Grand said to Robin. "Will there be another book?"
Robin swallowed his mouthful of chocolate. "I'm writing it now."
"Oh, how delightful! I'm very glad to hear that."
When Meg and Will returned with the baby, Tristan exacted the same promise as he had from his parents and grandmother. They readily agreed although, from the look on his face, Will did not understand Robin's reluctance.
"Grand, are you almost ready?" Meg asked before he could formulate a protest.
"Yes, dear. It has been a very pleasant evening, but I'm looking forward to my bed." Setting her cup on the table beside her, she looked for and found her cane. With Drew's helping hand, she stood up. "I brought a jumper with me, didn't I?"
"It's on the bench in the hallway," Kate told her. "Tristan, would you?"
Tristan hurried out. Finding it, he carried it back in and helped his grandmother into it. He bent to kiss her, and she caught his face between her hands.
"He is a very dear soul, " she told him. "Take great care of him."
"Always, Grand," he assured her then kissed her cheek.
"Come and visit an old woman when you have a mind. Now that it's warmer, you could go out on the Dart."
"We'll come down for a weekend soon."
She patted his arm. "Good. Now go protect Robin."
Robin stood with his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable as the Averills kissed one another and the baby good night.
"Will, take your daughter out to the car," Meg ordered as she gave Robin a quick kiss on the cheek. "You'll become accustomed to the chaos, believe it or not."
"Mum, I'll walk you out," Drew said, offering his arm.
The noise diminished by two-thirds when the front door closed. Kate, Tristan and Robin watched from the front windows as the rest of the family settled in the car. As Will fastened the harness of Gemma's seat, Drew gently shut his mother's door and stepped back. A quick hug between the two men, and Will climbed in and started the car. A moment later, they saw the brake lights flash before he pulled away into the darkness.
"Heavens, that was exhausting!" Kate said as they went back into the lounge. "The best times always are, aren't they?"
"It was a delicious dinner," Robin told her.
"Did you like the tart? Tris said it was one of your favourites."
"It was the best I've had in ages."
"'In ages'?" Tristan teased as they settled on the couch.
"I'll need another slice before I can say 'ever'."
"When you're hungry, dear, it's in the pantry. "
"Thank you," Robin murmured, making an obvious effort not to lean against Tristan as he swallowed a yawn.
"Come here, you," Tristan said, snaking an arm around him and pulling him over.
Drew came in with a carafe and held it up. "Anyone for more coffee?" he asked.
"That sounds good," Tristan said, holding up his cup.
Kate shook her head. "What have I said about pouring in mid-air? If you get so much as a drop on that carpet, I'll throttle the pair of you!"
"And don't think she won't," Drew added as he poured. "Robin?"
"No, thank you. Everything was lovely, though."
"We're so glad you enjoyed it," Kate assured him.
Tristan sipped his coffee and listened to his parents talk. He took a breath, enjoying the combination of scents: his coffee, the shampoo Robin used, the flower arrangement on the table beside him. He was full, content and relaxed; Robin a warm weight against his side.
"Robbie, I think we should go to bed before we fall asleep here. We've had a long day."
Robin roused enough to say goodnight, kissing Kate's cheek and receiving a clap on the shoulder from Drew. Setting his cup on the coffee tray, Tristan kissed both his parents goodnight. The murmur of their voices followed them as they climbed the stairs and turned toward the back of the house.
Tristan turned on the bedside lamp as Robin continued toward the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came out, Tristan had laid his nightclothes on the foot of the bed. Nearly stumbling in his exhaustion, he toed off his shoes and pulled his jumper over his head. As he pulled off his clothes, Tristan patiently took them from him and folded them.
"…Can do that," Robin protested through a yawn.
"Just keep going, darling."
Robin slid into bed as Tristan changed. Putting their clothes away, he opened the window an inch, then went in to brush his teeth. He left the bathroom light on and closed the door. The sheets were cool as he slid into bed, the weight of blanket and duvet welcome. He snapped off the lamp and stretched out. Robin shifted so he lay comfortably sprawled across him, Tristan rubbing his back as he settled.
"Everyone thought you were marvellous, Robbie," he murmured.
"They were brilliant." He lifted his head to look at Tristan. "Your grandmother is smashing." He leaned in to kiss Tristan then laid down his head again.
Tristan lay listening to the steady rhythm of Robin's breathing until everything slowly faded away into sleep.
Part 3