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Age 14
Fred got up early on this particular Saturday – after all, it was a rather special occasion. Had it really been fourteen years since Constance (bless her heart, he thought with a mixture of pity and wistfulness – she would never see her son grown up) had come to him, teary-eyed and scared but determined to do what was best for their child? Some days, Fred could hardly believe it.
And yet so it was.
The small bright-eyed child who, upon his return home from war, had shyly and cautiously approached him had given way to a teenager who was, to his mother’s distress, a little bit on the thin side no matter how much he ate and who usually opened the door for Fred in the evenings to hug his old dad while telling him about school.
Sometimes, he wondered if Dev would end up as a college don after all instead of going to the police – either way, he wouldn’t mind or be less proud of their boy for it.
Win had always made sure – and always would, certainly – that each of the children’s birthdays was celebrated appropriately. This year, since Joan was six and Sam four and they now both understood what was going on, she had enlisted the help of both of them, which they had agreed to enthusiastically, of course . Anything that made Dev happy made them happy too. Sam had even had the idea that he might draw him a special picture all by himself; and Joan had picked out the decorations with Win, often exclaiming that a particular shade of colour wasn’t quite right because the other one is his favourite, Mum, his wife had told him with a smile.
There had been a time, right after Constance had told him she was pregnant, when he’d been scared he would lose it all, and instead he had been given more than he could ever have hoped for.
“Good morning, love” Wink, the early riser of the family although she had always been able to stay up as late as he wanted, too, a feat Fred had never been sure how to accomplish) said, greeting him with a kiss. “Cake’s done.”
Of course it was.
It was still rather early, but he wasn’t surprised when he heard a door open and close. So Dev wanted to sneak down and check up on things; small wonder, he was a teenager after all and –
“Good morning, Mummy, Daddy” Sam announced with all the gravitas one could expect from a four-year-old. He had even succeeded in dressing himself, although the clothes were a bit miss-matched. Still, it was a rather adorable picture – although, since this was the third child he had the privilege to help raising, Fred knew better than to say so out loud.
“Good morning, dear” Win immediately replied. “What has you up so early?”
“It’s Dev’s special day!” he proclaimed earnestly. “Gotta get up early and make sure everything’s alright.”
He must have snuck out of the room very carefully indeed, since normally Dev was after his siblings the second they left his sight, didn’t matter if he was awake at the time or not.
“Yes, that’s a very good idea” Win agreed earnestly. “So why don’t we have breakfast and some tea and I show you everything?”
He nodded enthusiastically. Win and Fred shared a smile.
Joan showed up not long after, looking rather miffed that Sam had outdone her.
Fred knew that Win had secretly been rather worried when she had fallen pregnant, that Dev would think they were trying to replace him, or that the age difference between them would be a hindrance when trying to build a relationship, but all of that had proven rather spectacularly unfounded the second they’d put Baby Joanie into Endeavour’s arms for the first time.
Win had told him that Joan even bragged about Dev to her mates at school since he was apparently the best big brother ever, and they in turn were rather jealous. Fred wondered if they would eventually have to deal with several young ladies determinedly pursuing their boy when they all got a bit older.
Win had been in charge of the presents, mostly because she knew best. There were a few new records and sheet music of course, and a special edition of Milton’s Paradise Lost that Joan had claimed Dev would love above all else, and seeing as he still read to her whenever she could get him to, she probably did know best.
She now put their two trouble makers onto the decorations, meaning the kitchen and the living room would look very colourful, if a bit chaotic (but then, who worried about that on a birthday, as Win, who was the first to do so on any other day, would have said).
They finally heard Dev on the stairs and Joan and Sam ran to greet him, chanting Happy Birthday. He caught them both in his arms, grinning brightly, and Fred was taken aback by the memory of a girl running into his arms, laughing, on a late Summer’s day…
He shook his head. This was Dev’s day, not one to be darkened by old memories.
And so, he focused on Joan and Sam showing Dev the balloons they’d put up, with him smiling through the whole, clearly enjoying himself as much as they did.
Win had finished the cake and put Dev’s presents on the table. “Will you call the children?”
Of course he would, and very happily at that.
A sit turned out (not that he had worried too much) Jonna had been right and Dev was utterly enchanted with his new edition of Milton – so very much, in fact, that his sister managed to drag him and Sam into the living room even before breakfast to start reading to them.
“They’ll be there for hours” he said dryly.
“Nonsense, just until I‘ve finished up here” Win said happily. “And it gives me time to finish Sam’s eggy soldiers…”
Of course. Everyone favourite breakfast on birthdays.
He went to fill his pipe and listen in on Dev and the others. He had never been one for reading poetry and briefly wondered if Constance had been, but most importantly, it was clear that Joan and Sam were utterly enchanted by their older brother’s voice.
He leaned against the door and lit his pipe.
No matter what happened in the coning years, he decided, as long as they would always have their family, everything would be well.
Age 22
His studies were almost finished. That was what he chose to focus on, rather than… rather than…
To be honest, he could barely remember his nineteenth to twenty-first birthdays, and he’d rather keep it that way. Knowing that he, and only he, knew what made this day special still felt like a stab in a gut when he remembered Mum’s wonderful cakes, or Joan and Sam giggling in the weeks leading up to that special date, feeling so very superior because they knew what he was going to get and were utterly determined not to ruin the surprise.
Yes, it was better to keep his head down and not think about it, not think about anything but the work that lay ahead.
However, this time, things would be different.
He was cleaning up the room he would soon have to leave – he had been assured, and didn’t doubt, that he would be provided with an adequate place to stay; by now, he knew better than to question the Council – when a knock on his door rang out. Thinking it was the porter, he went to open it, only to find –
“Ah, Endeavour.”
He had no idea what the Chairman was doping here. He had expected to see him at his graduation – not because he thought he cared, but because ethe – man (or whatever he was) would want to see what his investment was doing – so he had no idea what he wanted with him now.
“Chairman” he replied as politely as he could, offering him a chair. He elected to remain standing; the Chairman was the sort of person who expected others to do so, even in the comfort of their – for lack of a better word (it still hurt, and by now he assumed it always would) home.
“So, they tell me you’ve passed with flying colours.”
There was little use in trying to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about, or that he wasn’t aware the Chairman kept informed of what he was doing. They had, in a way, made a deal, and Dev’s part was to study hard and afterwards work to build up the Guard the Chairman wanted. All for room and board and work so he wouldn’t go crazy, so he didn’t have to think about – “Yes, my results were satisfactory.”
The Chairman nodded. “I am glad.” He didn’t have to add that if he hadn’t been, no one else around him would have been either.
Dev waited for a moment, then another one. The silence that stretched out between them was – almost awkward; not something that he would have associated with the Chairman and their talks. No, he’d never seen the Chairman embarrassed before.
“And you are completely recovered?” he suddenly asked, and it took Dev a moment to understand he was talking about the illness he’d gotten over months ago.
But then, it was no surprise that the Chairman should not have a human understanding of the passage of time.
“Yes, thank you.”
He nodded again.
Another pause.
Then, rather abruptly again, the Chairman announced in the voice of someone who was probably doing so for the first time in his life, “Happy Birthday”.
Dev was so taken aback he had no idea what to say but eventually forced out a “Thank you.”
They studied each other carefully – probably because they both had no idea how to proceed now. His conversations with the Chairman normally were quick and to the point – he rarely stooped down to pleasantries.
“Here” he finally said, pulling a small bag out of his pocket. “I thought it would be good for you to have some extra protection, now that we will be moving forward with our plan.”
Our plan was a nice way of putting it. It was the Chairman who had made all the decisions, as everyone aware of the plan knew very well.
“Thank you” he said, accepting the bag. It was made of red velvet.
“Keep it in your rooms. It will protect you from the evil eye and a few other spells” he said as if it was nothing to be shielded from the evil eye.
The Chairman must have assembled it himself, Deb thought numbly. Although why he should go to the trouble to do so when he rarely even deigned to perform magic was a mystery.
“Thank you” he repeated.
“Yes. Well.” The Chairman cleared his throat and got up. “I will soon be in contact regarding the Guard.”
That sounded more like him, and Dev bowed his head in acknowledgement before showing him to the door.
He looked down at the bag in his palm, then very carefully closed his hand.
It might just have been his imagination, but the bag felt warm.
Age 29
Rather unsurprisingly, Peter didn’t think much of birthdays and celebrations and other such things in general, and Dev had to concede that he had never done much to assuage that particular issue. It was true, they had spent most holidays together since they had met, but they had carefully avoided any mention of families or celebrations or anything like that.
Really, though, he was telling himself on this particular day – somehow, he always saw it coming from a mile away and then yet forgot until it was right around the corner – he was doing well for himself. The Guard was growing, he was treated with respect and dignity almost whenever he went, he had a second-in-command he could trust explicitly; yes, things were very different from what they had been, eleven – good God, had it really been eleven? – years ago when a young boy had had to flee the only home he had ever known.
So, really, he didn’t have to think about today, he didn’t have to consider it different from any other weekday.
Of course things were more complicate than that. Things tended to be, once one got a closer look at them.
It began early, right after he and Peter had gotten up. Dev had put the kettle and some Puccini on (thinking, perhaps still a tad immaturely, since it was his birthday after all) that he might do so on today of all days, and that Peter had no right to complain.
He didn’t; he simply glanced at him to make sure all was well, as they tended to after bad nights or long days, and poured himself a cup of tea.
It was after they had settled down at the kitchen table that he said, “Congrats.”
“Thank you” he replied in the same tone, and they let the subject drop. He knew from experience that, over the course of the day, a book or LP would appear from somewhere, and that peter would act as if he knew nothing about it.
These days, there was much more paperwork than there had been in the early days, when it had been just him and then Peter who would hand in a report for the Council; and so, he was busy in his office for most of the morning.
(Mum would already have baked a cake).
(Joan and Sam always acted especially important to show how much they had had to do with the planning).
(Dad mostly let things take their course but was always ready to lend a hand when needed).
His pen started acting up and he threw it to the side, grabbing another one.
It was around lunch time when someone knocked at huis door. Assuming it was Peter, he called for them to enter, only to see Sally Ford, one of their best officers. Schooling his expression – just because he was in a bad mode it didn’t mean he had to treat others badly as well – he cleared his throats and asked, “Yes?”
“Sorry, sir, but Commander Jakes is still busy with that crossroad deal gone awry, sir” he nodded – Peter had told him about it before leaving –“So we thought – that is, sir, the others said I should just go ahead, sir –“
“Sally, what is it?” He might have sounded a little harsher than intended, so he quickly added, “IT is almost lunch time, after all.”
“Yes, sir, about that, sir” she immediately brightened up. “We – that’s me and Richard and Matthew – we’d consider it an honour if you’d join us for lunch, sir.”
Truth be told, he was rather tempted to skip it altogether. Most days, he managed to be logical about it and go eat something because he knew eh should; but there were days when all he could taste were sandwiches now handed over only to three people, and he had the suspicion that today was definitely one of these days.
But he did need to keep his strength up (as, if he wasn’t careful, Peter would remind him soon enough) and Sally clearly had her heart set on him accompanying them, so he agreed.
He didn’t think much of it until he realized they were eating at a table somewhat secluded from the rest of the pub most of the Guard went to in London, and the menu was pre-ordered.
Oh, he thought as he watched Sally skip to the telephone – probably on business.
Of course his officers knew when his birthday was. It was in his file after all, and he’d never made a secret of it – he simply didn’t often celebrate it; that was all.
Still, he decided to be on his best behaviour. They clearly valued him, otherwise they would ot have chosen to treat him to a birthday lunch.
Peter, he quickly learned, hadn’t been the one to suggest it, since his second-in-command came in soon afterwards, caught his eyes and shrugged.
Probably Sally’s idea, then. She was the sort of person who would come up with something like this.
They didn’t openly acknowledge the reason they were here, which suited Dev just fine; and yet, it was somewhat touching that they would go to the trouble at all. He reminded himself to buy them a pint, one of these days.
The Guard, he thought as he let his eyes dart across the table, was growing just fine. As a matter of fact, things had been going well on the whole lately. Except for that one thing…
He wondered if Mum would ever bake him a cake again, and then he decided not to think about it because it would have been unfair to Sally and the others.
On the whole, it was a pleasant lunch. He knew those who would not have considered it a celebration at all, and others who might have thought it too much of a presumption by those under his command that he’d like to eat with them to mark the occasion, but he understood where they wee coming from and could appreciate the effort.
And if, somewhere deep inside his heart, there was still the hope that he would one day introduce them all to his family, it stayed buried deep enough for the time being not to torture him.
Age 34
Dev had ha a late night, but what else was new.
As she had used to do when the children were small – birthday were supposed to be special, after all – Win crept to his and Sam’s room and was rather proud of herself when neither of them woke up as he ever so quietly opened the door.
As was so often the case, all that was visible of her oldest were his russet curls peaking out from underneath the duvet, and she suppressed the urge to run her fingers through them lest he stir after all. Sam, of course, was sprawled all over the bed, snoring slightly.
Sam had only come home two months ago, too; and if she had been a little apprehensive of Dev having to share his room again, she shouldn’t have bothered. Whenever the opportunity arose, the children – often including Peter – were together in some part of the house or another; just when Dev had been in his teens, she only had to call out to one of them to make sure they all showed up.
Well, then. Time to finish the cake. She had of course banned everyone from the kitchen last night so she’d have time to bake the cake; she wanted it to be a very good one this year, for obvious reasons.
Dev had made no demands, not asked for anything special, as most other people would have done, but then, this was their boy they were talking about, not most people. She smiled to herself as she finished the decoration.
The phone rang and she hasten to answer, not wanting anyone to wake up before their time; plus, she had a rather good idea who it could be.
“Hello, Peter. It’s Win” she said without pausing to check.
He was silent for a moment then said, “Good morning” clearly choosing not to use any way of addressing her to avoid the issue for a bit longer, although Win was determined that she would eventually carry the day.
“I assume you’re calling about Dev’s birthday?”
Another awkward pause. But of Couse – he wasn’t used to keeping things from their boy, even as a pleasant surprise. And really, this – all of this – was still so new to all of them. Not that she would have changed it for anything. “Yes” he eventually replied. “I know he doesn’t want anyone to make a fuss but a few of the officers and Council members want to throw him a bit of a party at the Dragon’s Lair tonight.”
She was about to ask him why he was only telling her so now – after all, you couldn’t just spontaneously decide to have a party on that very day – but realized it was a diplomatic way of ensuring that no blame fell on Dev in case he didn’t want to go, or they persuaded him not to. But really, she thought it would be a nice thing – anything done for Dev was nice in her book; and so she said, “Oh, that sounds lovely. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
“I –“
“Don’t worry Peter, you know he likes your co-workers.” And even the Chairman, she well knew – as a matter of fact, she suspected that he was rather behind the plan, mostly because she couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t. “You’re coming over for lunch, right?”
Dev had originally planned to go to work on his birthday, but an intervention from Kona and Sam, who would of course also be staying at home, had put a stop to any thought of that kind. After all, as Win had pointed out, the Guard should be able to stand one day with Peter to guide it; and it was a special occasion, wasn’t it…
“I – of course.”
He was still a bit shy, but they would soon cure him of that, she decided as they said goodbye. He couldn’t be such a friend of her boy’s without becoming part pf the family.
“Good morning, pet.”
“Good morning, love” She greeted Fred with amiss. “The children are still asleep.”
“Good. Dev and Jakes arrested a vampire last night; seems to have been a bit of a risky mission.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t worry, everything went fine, but Dev looked a bit tired.”
Meaning he had probably been exhausted, she thought, considering what she knew of her boy. “Well then, even better that he’s having a holiday of sorts.”
“Oy” Fred agreed, trying to sneak some icing but she wouldn’t let him. This was Dev’s cake, and for good reason.
Joan and Sam entered the kitchen at almost the same time – they must have met on the stair case – ready as they had been when they were just small children to pout up the decorations.
Eventually, she heard Dev moving around and smiled.
Dev had top think back to that time Sally, Richard and Matthew had taken him out to lunch.,
How similar it had been to this, and yet so very different.
George had closed the Dragon’s Lair for the evening, proclaiming to everyone who wanted to listen that he had to give a private party, and indeed, the pub was as full as it would have been otherwise. So far, Dev had greeted the Chairman and a few other Council members, Mrs. Waters and her daughter, he was rather sure every single officer of the Guard was here, not to mention many other creatures and magic users.
It was quite the sight.
But most importantly his family was right here with him. Joan was chatting with Mr. Raffles, the vampire who seemed to have taken a shine to her; Sam was gossiping about Oxford United with a few goblins; and Mum and Dad were currently preoccupied with the Chairman, who seemed to see it as his duty to keep them company.
“Look at that” Peter said, stepping up to him. He’d come over for lunch, stayed till long past two due to his inability to say no to Mum (how well Dev could understand) and had then arrived at the Dragon’s lair with the rest of the Guard in tow. “Sally knows how to throw a party.”
“I’m not surprised” he shrugged with feigned indifference.
“Oh oh. Seems like Frakes is about to –“
Music started playing.
“Thought so.”
Mr. Raffles was already leading Joan onto the floor.
“I better goo and mingle, don’t I?” De asked with an easy smile. After all, it wasn’t every day one celebrated both a birthday and returning to one’s family.
Peter flashed him a grin. “At your side, sir.”
And he went to ask Mum if she wanted to dance. She immediately agreed, pulling him into a gentle hug.
It was good to be back.