Peter turned out to be almost spot on. Six days later, Tom appeared at the doorstep to drag Shay out to a celebratory drink. Shay rolled her eyes at him but put down what she was working on and grabbed a jacket, willingly let herself be dragged out the door. Before he was out, though, he turned to me.

“What are you waiting for?” If he could without letting go of Shay, I’m sure he would’ve come back in to hound me out of my chair, too. As it was, he just looked at me expectantly.

Unsure, I looked between my work and my boss. I wasn’t on the clock per se, Shay had made it perfectly clear that my salary was not based on any hourly fees, but I did need to finish implementing some spreadsheets. Walking away at that point would make it difficult to find my line of reasoning later on.

“Finish what you need.” She suggested, trying to pull herself free from his grasp. “I’ll text an address so you can meet us there.”

Which was as much permission to take the afternoon off as I was going to get.

When I came to the pub, I discovered it was much more of a celebration than I’d expected. The bar was closed, but about a dozen people were spread out over the tables, chatting and laughing. There was an atmosphere of elation, relief, victory almost, and it was weird to enter into that bubble.

Tom spotted me almost directly, and pressed a pint into my hands.

“This is a drink?” I looked around the room, vaguely recognised some faces from the merch handout.

Tom shrugged. “It turned into a bit of a get-together.” He nodded at where Shay was sat at a table. “I guess they were more terrified than they let on. Your boss gave them room to breathe again.”

She really had. At that moment, she was being talked to by two women, both of them seemingly trying to convince her to let them buy her a drink.

“I might have to go save her.”

“Do that.” Tom smirked. “I’ll go grab her a coke and join you.”

And with that, he left me to save her.

She lit up slightly as she spotted me. “You made it!” She scooted her chair over so there was a free space. “I was almost worried Tom was going to chew me out for giving you too much work.” She gestured to the free chair. “This is Clara, and Evie. They’re dead set on buying alcohol, so enjoy it.”

“I’m good.” I raised my glass at them as I sat down. “Nice to meet you, though.”

“Nice to meet you!” One woman - Evie - greeted. “At least you’re not boring.”

“It’s three in the afternoon.” She shrugged; her smile slightly forced. “I don’t drink before five.”

“We’ll just have to keep you here long enough, then.” She sounded triumphant.

Somehow, I didn’t think that would work.

Tom re-joined us, and I felt glad. I don’t think I could’ve handled the conversation on my own, as it seemed Shay had checked out from the conversation, not really willing to give any in-depth answers anymore. I didn’t really blame her.

I was halfway through my second pint, kindly provided by Clara, when Tom’s phone pinged. He checked it, eyebrows raising at the message.

Shay perked up. “All right?”

“Yeah.” He pocketed it. “Remember how you insisted you didn’t want to get paid?”

“It rings a bell.” She nodded, “Considering I said it about half an hour ago.”

“Well.” He pulled a face, almost looking apologetic. “I’d already ordered a few things as a little thank you.”

Something clicked with Shay, and she narrowed her eyes, gripping her glass. “What things?”

“Just… things.” He shrugged. “A mug, some shirts… a flag.”

“A-” She caught herself from raising her voice. ”Please tell me you mean a national flag.”

Now, he did look apologetic. “No.”

“No?!” She took a calming breath. “Tom, I-” Another sigh, hopeless now. “My sixty-year-old groundskeeper slash secretary opens my mail, how am I-” She fell silent, frowning for a moment. The background hubbub was suddenly very loud.

“I need to-” Her eyes flicked to my beer, to the cocktail Tom was sipping. “I’ll need a cab.” She was already getting up, digging out her phone, almost in a panic.

Tom pulled her back down. “Calm.” He pushed her drink into her hands. “If he’s opened the package, it’s already too late.” He nigh-on guided her hand up, getting her to calm her breathing to take a sip.

She did. “I am going to kill you.”

“You worry too much.” He assured her. I really didn’t know how he could stay that calm. I was fairly certain she would kill him. Though she would probably wait until after the float. No reason to waste her hard work.

“I am going to kill you.” She looked up at him, “After I die of embarrassment because Carlyle has had to make sense of merch you’ve decided fits me and this ridiculous notion of labelling you have.”

Evie seemed to want to bud in, looking almost offended, but Tom rescued her before she could step her foot in it.

“It’s not ridiculous, and you know it.” He almost sounded stern. I figured this was something they’d discussed before.

(Of course, now I know that they had, thanks to her notetaking, but at the time, I was just confused.)

“It’ll be alright.” He continued, softer. “Whatever happens, it’ll be alright.”

“And if it isn’t, I have a spare room.” I’m still not sure what spurred me to say it, but the smile that grew on her face made it worth it.

Eventually, after she finished her drink, Tom did call her a cab, assuring me that it was fine if I stayed a little longer. Still, it didn’t feel right leaving her, as nervous as she was. I told him I still had some work to finish, but it was clear he didn’t believe me. I didn’t really care.

She was silent on our way back, and I took the time to sober up as much as was needed. Two pints don’t make me drunk, but with her reaction to the news, I had a feeling I needed to be completely sober, just in case.

Just before we turned into her street, I remembered to text my wife to let her know we might get an overnight guest.

Carlyle was casually sifting through the mail as we came in. He looked up, smiled as he spotted me. “Welcome back.” He put a letter in a separate pile. “forgot something, Aiden?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Not sure.”

“Has there been a package for me?” Shay was carefully trying to hide her panic, but if I could see it, it must’ve been obvious for Carlyle.

He nodded. “Big one. There was a card with it from Tom.”

She hesitated, just a moment. “What did you do with it?”

“It was mail.” He quirked his brow. “I opened it. Brought it up to your room, took the mug to the kitchen.”

She shot up the stairs.

We stood, waiting, for a few tense moments. Carlyle smiled at me, a knowing glint in his eyes.

It took a moment, but she came barrelling down again, skipping the last few steps and almost throwing herself into his arms.

He smiled at the top of her head.

Everything seemed to be fine.

I made myself scarce.

(Only recently, I got a glimpse into her room. The black and purple flag hangs pride-of-place above her bed, and it looks like it’s been there for a long time.)

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A/N - IMPORTANT: Due to personal reasons, next month's update will be a bit delayed, though I will try my very best to upload the entire thing in July, just maybe in bigger chunks. I'll keep you guys updated as the stuation changes.