“Are you ready?” Noah asked, kissing the top of Malcolm’s head.
“Yep. Will you hang out when we get back?”
“Of course I will. It’s Christmas Day. Where else am I going to be?”
They both got into Noah’s car and set off.
“I’ve missed you,” Malcolm said.
Guilt twinged inside Noah. He tried to visit as often as possible. Not easy when juggling a soccer career two hours up the motorway.
“I know,” Noah replied, squeezing Malcolm’s leg. “I’ve got to earn the cash. How’s your football going?”
“Good. I scored three goals in our match against Bury.”
Noah glanced at him. His brother’s face shone with joy.
“Three? That’s amazing. Even Tito hasn’t scored three in one game yet.”
Malcolm beamed. He’d been mad on football all his life. Noah supposed it ran in the family.
They drove into the car park. Noah reached into the back and grabbed the bouquet of flowers he’d brought.
“Come on then.”
He and Malcolm solemnly walked through the rows of gravestones. A few other people were there to pay respects to loved ones on Christmas Day. Noah watched them. So many memories were being relived at that moment. Happy times and possibly some sad.
Neither spoke until they located the right spot.
“Here you go,” Noah said, handing the flowers to Malcolm. “Why don’t you put them down?”
Malcolm gently laid them on the graves.
“Happy Christmas, Mum. Happy Christmas, Dad,” he said.
This got Noah every time. It had been almost twelve years since they’d gone. On birthdays and Christmases it never got any easier. After his parents had passed, he’d opted to have them buried in a graveyard local to where he lived with Ashley. It made sense for the boys being able to visit whenever they needed to rather than it being a long trip to Devon where they’d started life.
That had been another wrench when Noah had decided to leave the area and play for Brockton. But deep in his heart he’d known it was the right thing to do.
Malcolm returned and snuggled into him. His body heat a welcome break from the cold snap in the air. In line with their tradition, they stood in silence for a while. Noah remembered the family Christmases they used to have. Full of fun and laughter.
They would open all their presents in his parents’ room. Noah would always have a chocolate bar from his selection box. Then they’d all snuggle down and have an hour’s sleep. Beingbetween them was the safest Noah had ever felt in his life. He closed his eyes and tried his best to remember everything about the sensation.
The guilt of living never truly left him. Deep down he believed they would be proud of him and what he was doing for his brother. He just wished they were here. He would give everything else up for that.
But that kind of thinking didn’t do any good. They were gone.
“Let’s go,” Noah said eventually. “It’s cold.”
They drove to Spruce Court once again. All the way, Malcolm chattered about the other people who lived with him. They’d formed quite a gang.
Malcolm was three years younger than Noah. He didn’t have lots of memories of their parents. He’d only been nine when they’d passed. Noah had been twelve. A lifetime ago. Sometimes Malcolm would ask him questions about them so Noah knew they were in his thoughts.
“Shall we have a kickabout?” Malcolm asked. “Bella and Jonny made me promise I’d ask you.”
“Why not?” Noah replied. “Keep your coat on though. Your boss will be after me if you catch a cold.”
It was a crisp winter’s day and perfect conditions for a game on the front lawn. Malcolm tore off inside to get his friends. Noah went to the front lawn. A few faces appeared at the windows. He waved at them all and was rewarded with smiles and thumbs ups.
