Despite her brother’s insistence, Kelsey was sure that the party had never happened . . .
BY ALISON CARTER
EVERYONE was getting under Kelsey’s feet. Her husband was trying to be helpful, but he hadn’t read the party plan and was less use than he thought.
The baby kept crawling under the trestle table outside and pulling at the plastic tablecloths.
That was threatening to become a real danger once Kelsey laid out the birthday tea for 12 six-year-olds.
“Niall, could you find a way to pin the tablecloths up to keep them out of reach of Lulu?”
Niall came through from the lounge.
“On it!”
He was just as excited about the day as she was.
It had been a tough year.
Niall had lost his job and Kelsey had been forced to go full time for several months at the school uniform supplier she worked for.
Their household budget had been stretched to the limit.
But now summer was on its way, Niall had a new job, and things were looking up.
Niall opened their bits and bobs drawer and began a commentary on what was in there as he hunted for clips or pegs.
“I have some of the photo albums out in the lounge, by the way,” he told her.
“What do we want those out for?” Kelsey asked.
She was reading the ingredients of a packet of potato snacks.
Wasn’t that kid who played football with the twins allergic to something?
“Because our boys are getting older and I want to reminisce about their early lives,” he said. “I’m feeling a bit emotional.
“We’ve got here, got through, and we’re all OK.”
Kelsey felt a pressure on her heart.
Yes, they had been through hard times, and she had got through her tough past.
Now, here she was, happy, married and solvent, with the prospect of good things to come.
She looked at Niall, who had come from a proper home with a mum, dad, sisters, the whole thing.
She had never been able to describe to him what foster care was like.
She doubted that anyone who had not been through the system could ever “get it”.
Niall grinned.
“I won’t let the little beggars get their sticky fingers on those albums,” he assured her. “Also, they’re a mess, so after the party I’m going to settle down with a coffee and sort them.”
She laughed.
“You won’t have the energy. And right now we have zero time for photo album chat, because Lulu is over the threshold again – look! – and heading for the plastic tablecloth.”
