Samuel

Unedited.

This might give you a little insight into Sam. Also, hints at a future storyline. If you see it, comment!

Sarah xx

~*~*~

I've never given much thought to the safety features of a car until right now, when the seatbelt that's pulled around me, digs in and saves me from faceplanting into the dashboard. Catching my breath, slowly I turn to face my brother, scowling at him.

"I knew I should have driven," I comment, not caring if Dan hears me or not. When he doesn't acknowledge what I said, nor the fact that I'm glaring at him, I start to follow his narrowed gaze out the front window. When I finally see what he sees, I frown. "What the fuck are they doing here?"

Parked outside our grandmother's house was a vintage, racing green Jaguar. It was a car that Dan and I were more than familiar with, and seeing it here today could only mean one thing- the sperm donor and the surrogate were back in town.

From beside me, Dan heaved out a long sigh, dropping his head down onto the steering wheel, where his hands were gripped tightly to the point that the knuckles of his hands had turned white. "We can't let them get to us," my brother says, turning his head to look at me. He looked stern, like he'd aged a thousand years, and there was no room for argument. I nodded. "I mean it, Samuel. No matter what they throw at us, we rise above it. We're brothers and they can't tear us apart, ok?"

"Ok," I say, nodding along to his words. I'm not entirely sure that we could rise above it and put our siblingship ahead of whatever they could throw at us, but if Dan was willing to try, then so should I. "Man, I wish Evelyn was here."

Evelyn, the woman who raised us, was more a mother to Dan and I than Veronica ever was. Veronica Courtenay was, in every sense of the word, an absentee mother. She was the type to pick and choose when she around, and even when she was around, she was never really here. It was all for show. She would roll Dan and I out for all the important occasions, like Mother's Day, and parade us around just so she could show people that she could do 'maternal.'

The truth was far from the image she purported. Veronica gave birth to us, but she was never, ever a Mum. By all accounts, during our births- which were both by caesarean section- she lay on the table, filing her nails and looking thoroughly bored. She never asked the doctor if we were boys or girls, and she refused to hold us because we were annoying her. Well, sorry for crying. It what babies do. She immediately hired a live-in nanny and avoided anything to with her children.

Her marriage was crumbling, too. She'd done her 'duty' to provide an heir and a spare, now it was time for her to go and fuck any and every man that gave her the time of day. As soon as Dan and I were in school, she took off with her various other men and toyboys, never once stopping to give us a second thought. Weeks, if not months, would go by without any form of communication and then suddenly she'd turn up and demand that we call her Mum.

Bullshit.

Laurence is no better. He quite literally was a sperm donor. As hard as it was for either my brother or I to admit, our parents' marriage was loveless. It had been from the start. At times, from what Gran and Gramps said, Laurence only married Veronica because he wanted to piss off his parents, which certainly worked. Neither of my grandparents liked my mother. Gran flat out refused to hand over the family heirloom. Shouldn't that have been a massive red flag?!

An eats, shoots and leaves kind of person, Laurence, I think, only ever had sex with Veronica twice. Both times, it ended in conception, which is how Dan and I came to be. He got his rocks off elsewhere, with countless women half his age. You'd have thought, now that he was nearing sixty, he'd finally settle down and give up dating women younger than me, but no. Flame of the month currently was a twenty-three year old Slovakian model.

If you thought Veronica was truant from our lives, imagine my shock waking up one morning and finding some stranger in the kitchen, declaring, "Hello, son."

Until that point, I thought fathers were some sort of mythical creature, like centaurs. You hear about them, but you never see one. From that day onwards, Laurence was in and out of our lives sporadically, bringing chaos with him each time. It never helped that most of the time, Laurence was drunk as a skunk, and had a blonde skeleton hanging off his arm.

That, of course, stopped once Gran hired Evelyn as our nanny. Evelyn brought stability to our lives. Eventually. At first, I made her life hell. She was like all the other nannies we'd had. They'd arrive, stay a few weeks and then disappear when the going got tough. Evelyn, however, was made a sterner stuff. Nothing about my attitude fazed her.

I'd glue her door lock shut, she'd climb out the window, shimmy down the drainpipe and waltz in through the kitchen door like nothing had happened.

I substituted her shampoo once for bright pink hair dye, but she just laughed and went out to buy a few more colours, making her hair look like a rainbow.

I once ran away from her in Tesco. She was asking about what type of bread I liked, turned her back and I legged it out of there, going to the nearest park. Evelyn, of course, found me. But she didn't come alone. Oh, no. She came with ice cream, and sat at the park bench, enjoying her banana split.

"Where's my ice cream?" I'd asked, plopping down at her side.

"Still at the ice cream parlour, I suppose," she answered with a shrug. "That's what happens when you run away from me. Too bad because this is very nice."

She turned and walked back to the car, never once asking for me to follow. Of course, I did, and rom then on, I decided that I liked Evelyn.

She was always the one that rushed into my room when I had a nightmare. She was the one that bandaged up my grazed knee when I fell off my bike. She was the one that gave me the almighty dressing down when I punched Lloyd Henderson at school. She gave me the birds and the bees talk. She was also the one who, when I thought I'd gotten Rebecca Southcliffe pregnant, sat me down and told me that she wasn't disappointed in me because she knew that I would make a great dad.

"Because I've raised you to be a good man," Evelyn whispered as I rested my head against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around me tightly. "And good men make great fathers. Don't worry, Sam. I'm here for you."

Evelyn was my mother. She's my mum. Not Veronica, no matter how many times she insists I call her that.

"Ready?" Dan asks, bringing the car to a stop near the front door of Gran's house. Without waiting for a reply, my brother kills the engine and opens his door. Following his lead, I unbuckle my seat belt and climb from the car. Together, we walk to the door. Before Dan walks inside, he hesitates. "Sam, if you want to leave, tell me and we'll go."

Pushing the door open fully, we both tread carefully as we enter the house. Despite being more than familiar with place and having called it home for over twenty years, walking inside today made me feel like a stranger that didn't belong. The house was quiet and it made me nervous to be here, as if, at the flip of a coin, it could all change.

"Boys?" Veronica shouted from somewhere deep inside the house. Dan and I both stopped mid stride to stare at each other. In tune, we both looked over our shoulders at the door, wondering if we had time to run out and rush back to London. It was useless because as soon I turned, Veronica came walking around the corner, her face frozen. I'm sure she was trying to smile, but in reality it looked like she was constipated. "There they are! My two wonderful sons!"

I looked at my older brother, hoping that he'd have something to say. Dan has always been better at dealing with Veronica and Laurence than I have ever been. He is somehow patient enough to put up with their bullshit and can bite his tongue. I, on the other hand, am too quick to jump in and tell them how things really are. It comes from the fact that, as a child, neither of my parents were particularly interested in me. As the spare, I was unimportant. All I wanted was some sort of recognition that I existed but it never came.

"Hello... mother," Dan finally spat out. I could tell that he was unamused by Veronica's sudden reappearance but she would never notice the way his eyes narrowed slightly when he addressed her. She approached for an embrace but Dan neatly side stepped her. "Would love to stay and catch up but I'm afraid we're already late. Can't keep everyone waiting."

The second Bank Holiday in May is a day of celebration in Amesbury. For years, dating back centuries, the Courtenay family would open up the estate and hold a family day, where the villagers would come and enjoy a day of games in the gardens and a picnic on the grounds. It was an event that Gran adored arranging and wouldn't dream of giving up for anyone. As is custom, the Duchess of Kendal is the organiser of events but as we've already established, Gran would rather die than let Veronica take over this particular duty.

Today, being the last Bank Holiday in May, meant that the family day event was in full swing and Dan and I, as the next generation of Courtenays had to be visible. We were already running late as it was, so there was no time to dilly-dally by making small talk with Veronica. Grabbing me by the upper arm, Dan pulled me from the hallway and dragged me out the side of the house, through the upper garden and down into the landscaped garden where hundreds, if not thousands, were already enjoying the spring sunshine.

"Ah, there they are!" Laurence bellowed above the crowd. Those within earshot all turned to look as Dan and I approached, their gazes widening as they realised who we were. Whispers spread and soon enough, we were the centre of attention. Laurence, knowing this was now all about show, came walking towards us, a drink in hand. "Henry and Thomas!"

I rolled my eyes. This drunken, pathetic excuse of a man that stood before us was the reason Dan and I never used our given names or our family's name. The embarrassment of being the son of Laurence Courtenay was enough to make anyone want to sever all ties. Laurence has aged terribly since I last saw him; the blood vessels under his skin looked like spiders, his hands were red and his eyes looked a little jaundice. He'd lost weight and his hair was thinning and he looked like he was on death's door.

Here's hoping.

"Hey, Dan?" I whisper, turning quickly to look at my brother. With pleasing eyes, I ask him, "Can we leave now?"

His lips pulled up at the corner, his eyes shifting to mine. He nods. "Thought you'd never ask." He turned quickly and started walking back to the house, crossing out grandmother as he walked. He paused, bent down to plant a kiss on her cheek and sent her an apologetic smile. "We tried."

"Sorry," I add, although from the small, playful shake of the head Gran gave me, she knew I wasn't at all sorry.

"Oh, just go," Gran swatted my arm, a smile on her lips. "Oh, and Daniel? Tell Sophie I say 'hello.'"

"Will do," Dan nods. "Thanks for the free pass, by the way."

Gran shakes her head. "This isn't a free pass, boys," she says, although it sounds more like a threat. "You two owe me a favour, or two. Now, off you go. Bye bye."

Giving each other a high five, Dan and I run passed Veronica, not once acknowledging her existence.

Karma, bitch.