Exhale by Sophia Soames

JAMIE

Bam! That was the door, and there was today’s last moment of peace and quiet gone forever. Not that I minded because here came Olive, bouncing into the kitchen. Hulk immediately left his fluffy bed in the corner and lazily paraded across the floor to greet her with a slightly undignified meow.

“Thief!” Leo made a showy, dramatic gesture to accompany his declaration of pretend disgust. “The feline is mine, and you have stolen him.”

“I can’t help it if Hulk loves me more than you. You may have ownership on paper, Leo, but Hulk chose me, so that’s not thieving. Sue me. I think you’ll find that you can’t steal someone’s affection.”

“Good argument, young Olive, but the cat is still mine.” Leo still had so much to learn. Like the absolute fact that he would never get anywhere arguing with Olive. She was our mother’s daughter and would argue herself blue in the face until she had you questioning whether the Earth really was flat and believing twelve-year-old girls were actually allowed to take driving lessons, since they matured emotionally before boys. Yeah, she’d had me there.

“Leo, my dear, dear Leo.” Olive smirked, her tone far beyond her years. “We have this discussion every single day. Hulk should not be forced to choose between his emotional-support humans. He needs a stable home and life, and you know he only sleeps if he’s in my room. And we really need to throw away that old blanket. The new cat bed Granny and I bought provides a far superior sleeping environment for a discerning cat like Hulk.”

Olive was on her school’s student council and was in the running for head girl next year, something she was taking very seriously. Her debating skills were second to none, while Leo, our darling, darling Leo…

He came over and curled his arms around me from behind, still throwing out carefully worded sentences to try to take Olive down. She was having none of it.

“Leo, don’t argue with me. You know full well your reasoning won’t stand up. Wait until Granny comes later. She’ll back me up.”

“Granny always backs you up,” I muttered, kissing Leo’s hairline, breathing him in deeply. Beneath the dusty stench of Tube and uni halls and rain and city grime was the love of my life.

He was still here, and the realisation hit me right in the feels, like it did every time he walked through our front door. It was winter again, and the house was suffering from constant draughts as people milled into the hallway in rowdy batches, always just in time to partake of whatever food being served at our massive kitchen table. Despite half of the humans currently kicking off shoes and throwing jackets over backs of chairs not actually living in this house, they all came and went like we owed them a place at our table.

And, of course, we obliged because these idiots were all, in one way or another, family.

“Ry!” I shouted over the noise that made it difficult to hear, though I could feel Leo’s heart beating against my back. He liked to hug and clung to me for at least the first hour after coming home. Topping up on Jamie-love, he would declare, shuffling around with me, like he was now, as I dealt with an insane number of soggy-looking fish fingers on the grill rack. “Ry, can you check these? Are they done or do they need longer?”

Yeah. Gourmet Dining wasn’t my forte. I usually left that to those who knew what they were doing, like Ryan, who was quite the cook, only beaten by Aaron, who was a proper chef, currently employed at an up-and-coming Michelin-rated hotel eatery.

Ryan picked up a scorching-hot fish finger with his fingertips and broke it in half. “How long have they been in?”

“Errrr…” I couldn’t remember. Fifteen minutes? I’d checked the time, but then Leo had appeared, and Olive was still walking around carrying the damn cat, and yeah. He still made me lose my concentration.

“Give them another ten,” Ryan said, “They look a bit raw to me.” Then he stood watching us with a small, amused smile. “Did you remember to put the chips in the oven?”

“Dude!” I huffed, but he had a point. I’d been known to forget to cook the chicken for our Sunday roast, instead serving up an impressive spread of vegetables, accompanied by instant gravy. There was also an unfortunate incident involving undercooked spaghetti that I’d rather my family didn’t mention, but they still did, and I sucked it up. What else could I do? They were my family, and I loved them all to the moon and back.

“Hey!!!” That was Toby and his tribe, bursting in like a small atomic bomb. How the walls didn’t creak and bend with every new human walking through that front door, I would never know. They were all here. Toby, my youngest brother, his gorgeous girlfriend Annabelle, who’d like given birth a week ago, yet still managed to look like a reality TV star from one of those shows where the girls were walking ads for fake tan and the boys had more muscles than sense.

“Can I take the baby?” Leo begged, immediately abandoning me and my sweaty back. Kneeling on the floor, he expertly unfastened the straps to retrieve the latest member of the Walters clan from its car seat. “Uncle Leo misses his favourite godchild. Hello, baby, baby, oh, aren’t you just the most beautiful little thing?”

“Careful with the head, Leo,” Annabelle cautioned. She was an amazing mum, somehow keeping an eye on the baby and their eighteen-month-old, who was chasing Hulk around under the kitchen table and giving Olive a panic attack.

“Annabelle, I bought that highchair thing you wanted,” said Luke—my twin. Basically me in different packaging and the kindest soul on the planet. He was also an obsessive buyer of untold baby gadgets and researcher of all things child-safety related, like screechy baby monitors and impossible-to-open stairgates and cupboard locks that had us all swearing in frustration.

“You didn’t.” Annabelle went over to admire some kind of child-rocking contraption at the end of the table. “You’re crazy, Luke, but thank you. You shouldn’t spend your money on us. Save it up for when you have your own kids, babe.”

My brother laughed. “I’m counting on getting all your hand-me-downs. Anyway, I’m still trying to figure out how to get Ry pregnant, because surely Tobes isn’t the only one in this family with super-sperm.”

“Told ya—I’ll carry a baby for you. I love being pregnant, you know that. Absolutely love the whole experience. Think about it, yeah? Just let me get over this one first—is there a pillow I can sit on? Squirt, babe, get me one of those pink cushions off the sofa, please?”

“You should have an inflatable ring to sit on,” Olive advised knowledgeably as she delivered the requested cushion. “I looked them up on Amazon. You need to take the pressure off those haemorrhoids and do your pelvic floor exercises. Granny told me all about it.”

“Thank you, Granny.” Annabelle laughed, digging a perfectly formed boob out of her bra and gesturing to Leo to hand her the squawking new-born infant he was cradling in his arms. It was another boy, of course. Us Walters tended to have boys. Lots of them.

“Oh, darling Bella-Boo.” That was Ryan’s mother, the great Tessa Aspinall, adopted mum to all of us, treasured grandmother and the almighty queen of spoiling us rotten. She also regularly turned up for dinner with her long-time partner Alan in tow. “We should move that feeding chair into the kitchen. A mother needs comfort for those long feeds. Jamie, darling, what are we eating? I brought a baguette and a few nibbles. Alan? Did you bring in the last of the shopping?”

“Hi, all.” Alan was a man of few words but a solid bloke who loved us like we were his own wayward kids and as always had his miniature toolkit attached to his belt. At some point, he would make his compulsory tour of the house, fixing stray fittings, tightening screws and knocking nails into any random floorboards that had popped up since his last visit. He did it every time, gratefully accepting a cold beer afterwards before attaching himself to the chair in front of the TV for the night. He’d of course expect a plate of dinner to be delivered to his lap at some point, and it was the least we could do, seeing as he’d got Granny Tessa to slyly find out Tobe’s account number and paid off a chunk of his and Annabelle’s mortgage. He’d also cleared my sister Emma’s student debt by stealth, and I was pretty sure he’d lied about the cost of the second work van Luke and Ry had recently upgraded their fleet with. The man was sneaky, but where Granny Tessa would smother us with affection, Alan was just quietly there, watching and supporting his small tribe of humans with random acts of incredibly generous kindness.

“These are all the bags.” Alan deposited them on the table. A few nibbles indeed. Granny Tessa had no clue about what constituted ‘a few nibbles’, instead buying us half of Marks and Spencer’s overpriced food hall on a regular basis. As expected, she was now unpacking a stack of family-sized cheesecakes, tubs of olives and baguettes, followed by bottles of wine and an ice-cold bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling stuff that Leo expertly uncorked as I handed him a glass.

“There we go, Madame Annabelle,” my Leo decreed in an over-the-top French accent. “A glass of our finest elderberry press, a slight hint of pear with undertones of…” He had to stop and laughed as the baby lost its grip on Anabelle’s boob and milk shot out. “…With undertones of our favourite human.”

“Shut it, Leo,” Annabelle said, but she was smiling. “Just hand me the glass and top me up. This baby-rearing job is thirsty work, and for God’s sake, Tobes, grab your son before he pokes the cat’s eyes out!”

This was our life. Madness. But a madness that was more real than anything I’d known before. I was happy. Truly happy. I had everything I needed, right here. I had a family who loved me, no matter what. And I had a boyfriend. I still blushed whenever it registered that I was now attached. I even found myself blurring my words sometimes when I introduced Leo to others. My love, I’d say. Partner. Future Husband. Prince Charming’s one and only princeling. He’d just laugh and introduce me as his Jamie.

I wasn’t that fussed about the terminology anymore because family was family, and he was mine.

I grinned as Kizzy wandered through the door, carrying the largest bunch of flowers I’d ever seen, and squealed when she spotted Annabelle and the baby. Turning to grab Leo, she blurted out so many words so quickly that I lost the plot after the first sentence. I left them to it and got my now perfectly golden fish fingers out of the oven and started plating them up onto the stack of mismatched crockery on the worktop.

“Hi, babes.” Kizzy kissed my cheek from behind. “Want a hand?”

“Can you sort out the chips and peas?” I suggested, then noticed she already had a ladle in her hand, scooping generous piles of green peas onto the plates as I handed them over.

“How are you?” she asked quietly. “All good?”

“Good.” I smiled. I was. I was really good.

“Meant to tell you, a mate’s got a flat for sale. Back of the high street, old, converted garage building. High ceilings and studio space. He’s an artist and is moving up in the world. I was thinking. You know. It’s got a courtyard garden, which is amazing for this area, and he’s fitted this tiny balcony off the bedroom.”

“You seem awfully familiar with the space,” I teased, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

“Of course, I am. I shagged him once. He’s a friend now, nothing more. You know these artists—no sense of commitment.”

“Bah. Judgemental.” I was still teasing, but there was no sting in my heart. Kiz and I had found peace now. We were still jumpy around baby talk, and there were things that would always make my heart bleed, just like hers sometimes needed a bit of space to heal.

“I know it’s not my place to say, but you need to move out. Don’t settle into the comfort thing the two of you have going on, because…babes…”

“I know.” I groaned. “I need to move out at some point. This feels more and more like Lukey and Ry’s home every day, and yes, okay. I’ll come view it.”

“No,” she said sternly. “You and Leo will go view it. Mortgage. Own home.”

“Not sure they will give us a joint mortgage.”

“See? Negative thinking will get you nowhere. Leo is a student. He also works part time and has a regular income. You’re a workshop manager, Jamie. You could have a decent mortgage, and I know you have savings. We just need to look at your numbers.”

“I need to look at the numbers.” Rude, I knew, but we both still fell far too easily back into those grooves because it was comfortable.

Kizzy nodded, fully aware of her misstep. “Mortgage advisor. Bank appointment. View flat. I’ll say no more. I already sent the link to Leo.”

“Traitor.”

“No. Stirrer. Anyway, it wasn’t me who found it. Tessa’s handling the sale.”

Bloody family and their scheming ways. Of course, Tessa wouldn’t tell me she’d cleverly schemed with Kiz, and then they’d lured Leo into their sneaky little trap. It wouldn’t surprise me to find the flat’s prospectus tucked inside Hulk’s daybed as well, even though he was far too settled in and despite constantly fighting with Olive for ownership, Leo knew it was a battle he’d already lost.

Tessa was cutting up the baguettes, and I handed her the oversized bread basket—another of her contributions to this humble home, but Kiz was right. This wasn’t my home anymore. Well, it was, and it always would be, but it was Ryan and Luke’s now. They lived here, and Olive was their responsibility. I’d hung onto my room like a needy lodger, a space that was far too small for me and Leo to share, yet we’d had to, since he’d given up his student flat, We’d even discussed him paying rent here, but Ry and Luke wouldn’t have accepted his money. Leo picked up Olive from school because it was on his way home. He tutored her in French and Spanish, and her grades were bloody incredible now compared to last year’s reports. He also understood her and pushed her in a way I’d never been able to. Even Ryan had walked away from the homework duties because there was something quite magic about Leo and Olive and the stacks of books they’d drag home from their weekly trips to our local library.

The fact that Leo also worked weekends in Tessa’s estate agent office and had the whole family eating out of his very handsome hands? Yeah. It was time we moved out. I didn’t want to, but I needed to. I needed to build my own little kingdom and maybe one day have a family like this one, but one of my own. Small humans created by me. People who relied on me like I’d always relied on others. I wanted that. I wanted bricks and mortar and space and a future.

But for now, this minute, this hour right here…

Comfort was a dangerous thing.

I joined my family at the table as foods were passed between helpful hands. Butter was spread on small nibbles of bread, and olives were cut in quarters and fed to the toddler, who spat them out with a disgusted roar that made Hulk shoot from the room in fear of the deafening noises coming from his human tribe.

A peculiar tribe at that, but we were also a family, with a future as bright as a New Year’s firework display.

“Babe?” Leo’s hand crept into mine under the table. “Pass me the water, will ya?”

“Passe-moi l’eau, s’il te plaît.” Olive smiled sweetly, showing off her linguistic flair.

“Well done!” Leo praised. “Almost perfect.”

“I signed up for French club for next term. It’s on a Tuesday so won’t clash with swimming. Luke said to ask if you can get me after. You don’t have extra classes on Tuesday so I said you would.”

“Of course,” my darling boyfriend replied, and he would. He loved all this family stuff as much as I did. Despite being the only child of a single mother, this brave new world had never been a hurdle to overcome. He’d just slotted in, adding another little box to his quirky personal collection. Boyfriend. Friend. Lover. Sibling. Godfather. Constant cause of smiles. Chief Olive tutor. Homework master. Cat tamer. Chief window washer. Hater of hoovers. Wearer of manties.

“To us!” Tessa exclaimed from the head of the table, raising her wine glass. “To my amazing family, whom I love more than I could ever tell you. May you always be as wonderful as these delightful fish fingers on my plate. Cooked to perfection, Jamie. So. Cheers, my dears, and remember that Alan and I adore you all. We love you, always. Every single day.”

“Cheers!” rang out through the room, swiftly replaced by the normal noisy chatter and giggles as Annabelle shouted for a rag to mop up the baby spills and her toddler tipped a glass of milk over his head and Leo shouted for the ketchup and Olive stood on a chair trying to get everyone’s attention so she could read out her English essay.

I shook my head and kept on grinning.

No, comfort was a wonderful thing. I was happy. So bloody happy.

I had Leo now. A friend who made me laugh and who held my hand when my confidence faltered. I was no longer alone, not only part of a family but, as Leo always said, part of a whole. Never on my own.

He made me complete. This Leo who kissed me good morning and bade me goodnight. It had taken time, but we were getting there, and he was always there to remind me that we were still getting to know each other and talk me down when I doubted what we’d so quickly become. It was his body that wrapped around me when I needed him the most, and it was mine that took him away when he needed relief, when life became a little too intense and he just needed for us to lock ourselves away from the world. The two of us in bed, in my room, our little kingdom of pure bliss. I would always be his Prince Charming, and he would always be my princeling. We lived in a tiny castle in a kingdom that strangely held strong. Perhaps we needed to expand our quest and find a kingdom of our own. But right now, everything was as it should be. Not always perfect. Just perfectly, beautifully imperfect.

Those were words he’d say, my Leo. Whenever I held my breath, he was there to help me exhale. With every step he took, I was there to catch him when he stumbled. We were two halves that made a whole, and for as long as we had each other, we’d keep learning how to live. And if we could live like this forever, we would. For now, our forever after was happily ours, and I intended to keep it that way.

Ticking the Jamie and Leo box, every single time.

The End

Want more Jamie? Read Luke and Ryan’s story in BREATHE mybook.to/BreatheLondon