#i guess i always knew because it was advertised as a summer camp organised by the 'catholic youth action' group

[transmascrage]

Man I just came to the realisation that the "summer camp" (in quotations because it wasn't like a typical summer camp anyway, it was only a week in a house in the mountains) my parents forced me to go every summer was literally a religious retreat. No wonder I hated it so much.

To be fair there were a lot of things I hated about it. First of all the fact that I was constantly around people, both because we were all under the same roof and because the adults needed to look after us.

And being an introvert I was always super tired all the time. But most of all I think it also meant I had to literally mask for an entire week non-stop.

Plus the kids that went to this thing were either the ones from religious families or the asshole sporty kids who wanted to spend time with their friends (or maybe their parents were sick of them). So I also had to mask extra carefully so I wouldn't be weird.

It was also a super gendered space. Boys and girls slept in different rooms (often the boys in one big room and the girls divided between the other rooms. Never the other way around, for some reason. Probably for the best for me though.)

Naturally all of the kids there were catholic or atheist. I did ask the adults if people of other religions could come once.

Not that there were any in my hometown. But I knew a Jehova's witness kid and I wondered if he could come. Of course, now I know his parents wouldn't have let him come anyways, but as a kid I had no idea.

They told me yeeeess, of course they can come :))))) but honestly a non-Catholic kid would have probably been really annoyed and confused at this camp.

We were divided in four groups. One group set and cleaned the tables for meals, one group cleaned the rooms and bathrooms (the worst), one group decided on prayers (the best because we'd choose random ones and go on our merry ways) and one group decided on the evening games.

The first group's chores were called "corvées" which is what peasants did in their lord's property in feudal times.

Appropriate name, because the entitlement with which some people demanded we brought them water or more food than others was infuriating.

Don't even get me started on how eating was pure torture because we couldn't decide on the menu and the textures were always bad bad bad. But no adult would take that as an excuse, so I (and my brother) had to finish everything on our plates while gagging or literally tearing up.

Sometimes a small business of swapping plates with a kind soul who really liked the dish was established, but it had to be done in secret because the adults didn't like that.

Before every meal there was a short prayer but at least it was fun because we got to bang on the tables and sing, right? Nope, too loud and scary for my stupid fucking brain.

Then after eating that group had to stay behind and clean up.

In both this and the group that cleaned rooms and bathrooms gender roles were reinstated again. Boys were also supposed to clean just as much as girls, but in practice they just stood around or went outside to play. The first few times I spoke up, then I gave up because nothing was done.

It's important to note that the adults with us were people in their early 20s, and way too few to look after us. Honestly I don't know how so many parents were comfortable leaving their children with maybe 10 young adults.

The cleaning duties were the worst because cleaning the bathrooms was disgusting as fuck. Sensory issues relating to smells + my weak stomach = hell.

During the morning we did activities relating somewhat to christianity. They usually were supposed to be metaphors for something Jesus said, but nobody except me actually gave a shit.

In the afternoon we played team games. This was one of the parts I hated the most because I'm super uncoordinated, and remember the active kids I mentioned earlier? Yeah they didn't like that.

Technically we were competing for a prize. Sometimes they did give a better snack to the winner or something. But the big prize was supposedly at the end of the week. I can't remember anything special about that prize so I guess it wasn't that great after all.

Obviously swearing was forbidden, but it's not like that stopped kids from doing it.

In the evening we'd sit in a huge circle pray and then...the games.

Usually it was things like "Wolves" you know, the game where you try to figure out who are the wolves.

But there was one traditional game. Dames and Knights.

Four girls got chosen and sat down on chairs. Four boys would come in and had to figure out who the girl they were paired with was. If they got it right they got a kiss, if they didn't they got slapped.

It was the yearly ritual of the popular kids. And also the humiliation round for the ugly girls. The snickers and gags from girls and boys were downright traumatic.

I only went through it once, the year I was "dating" (we were 9) a boy and another also liked me. It was extremely humiliating.

The rest of the years I got to watch the popular kids get cheered on and "oooh'd" at. Naturally it couldn't be two boys or two girls. Not that any openly queer kids would be acknowledged as queer here.

My anxiety got forged with steel in those rooms. One time, when I was very young, I peed myself because I was too scared to get up and ask to go to the bathroom. What if they all looked at me? What if I was bothering the adults with my question?

I used to get bored and drag my feet on the ground and imagine I was making invisible drawings on the ground.

Then we went to bed.

The worst days were confession day and walk day.

Confession day was when the town's priest would come visit and let us fess up our sins. We had to sit by ourselves in silence and figure out what we did that the Lord should forgive us for.

Then the priest would hold a mass. It wasn't mandatory to attend per se, but you did get bothered over and over by the adults until you went.

Walk day was when we'd hike up to the mountain. I'm not an athletic guy and I wasn't an athletic girl. I usually lagged behind. The cooks would give us our sandwiched for lunch, but we weren't allowed to choose if we wanted cheese, salame or ham.

And I. Fucking. Hate. Cheese.

The best moment was going home. I got to sit on the bus and zone out and daydream. We got our phones back (yeah, no phones allowed) and could finally check social media.

When I arrived my mom would always ask me "Did you have fun?" and I always said "No." and my mom said it hurt the counselors feelings when I said that.

And I can't give less of a fuck. Because every goddamn year I would say I didn't wanna go. And every year they ask, and beg, and insist and insist and insist until I gave in.

Insisting and insisting has been how people have always gotten me to do whatever they wanted. They bank either on me saying yes until they stop asking, and procrastinating until then because I really don't wanna do it; or making me feel guilty because I might hurt their feelings.

I always wish I could be more of an asshole to people. And I don't mean "be more assertibe", I mean tell them to fuck off and hope they die in a hole.

Unfortunately I always project how I would feel on them. And how that reflects on the communities I'm part of. Plus when I'm really mad I'm not even funny, I get really serious and cruel.

Anyways. Fuck religious retreats.

[historyrepeatsitself-phff]

Chapter Ninety

“We need to talk about hiring you a nanny.”

Harry and Emmy were sat in the offices in Kensington Palace, opposite Edward, Claire and – to Emmy’s surprise – Rick. Grace sat on Harry’s lap, sleepy after her morning feed.

Harry looked at Emmy to see her reaction to Edward’s words – it wasn’t really a shock. In a few days’ time they were attending Emmy’s cousin Bella’s wedding, and they had had no one to babysit Grace. Edward had stepped up, but both Harry and Emmy knew that they couldn’t keep this up for much longer – people were busy, and so were they. They wouldn’t always be able to find someone to look after her. Emmy, reluctantly, had acknowledged that there was no other way.

“We will start searching around and invite some of the best people we can find, advertise in the best institutions,” Claire explained. “I’ll start looking on Saturday, while you’re at the wedding.”

“And I am going to organise hiring a PO for Grace,” Rick added. “So while you’re at the wedding, we’ll be sorting all this out.”

“Nothing for either of you to worry about,” Edward said, with a smile.

Harry looked so good in his three-piece suit, sunglasses on in the early summer sunshine. He walked with one hand in his pocket, his other hand in hers, smirking slightly – almost as if he knew how sexy he looked, or perhaps he was thinking about how she looked. Guests looked their way as they walked down the pathway to the church.

“You know all these people?” Harry asked, as a group of middle-aged women waved at Emmy, cooing about how grown-up she had become.

“Some of them,” Emmy answered, trying to steer him away from any more extended family, knowing they would just embarrass her. “Big family, you know.”

“Hmm, I know a lot about having a big family,” he replied, throwing her a grin.

“It’s so easy to forget, we haven’t seen them in so long,” she said dryly, although he knew full well she was enjoying the distance.

“No need to sound so happy.”

“Pfft, please, as if you’re not dreading seeing my father today.”

His mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

“Is Benedict coming today?” he asked; Emmy’s older brother was the only member of the Farrington family that Harry could stand.

“He should be, yeah, him and Susie flew over especially for the wedding,” she explained. “They’re going to come and see me in the week, while you’re away. They want to see Grace again.”

“Shame I won’t be there, I actually like Benedict,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, but then turned hopeful. “Well, if you change your mind and you want to stay…”

He sighed. “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t cancel. And then Australia as well-”

They’d come to a stop beneath one of the trees, and its droopy blossom provided some shade from the hot sun. The warmest of breezes ruffled Emmy’s loose curls as she turned anxious eyes to his.

“Australia is so far away though.”

“Let’s not do this again,” he said gently, looking around. “Especially not here.”

“But what if I need you?”

“You won’t, you’re a perfectly capable woman. You won’t need me at all. You’ll probably enjoy not having me around.”

She raised a sceptical eyebrow as he took her hands and tried to distract her. “I doubt that.”

“It’ll be nice for you and Grace to have some alone time. And you can prepare for your visit to Denmark.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better by terrifying me with my trip?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Is it working, by any chance?”

“Of course not,” she said, actually laughing and shaking her head at him. She wanted to try and persuade him to stay some more, or to grovel about how she was going to miss him, but she knew that would sound whiny and so she looked around at the other guests to distract herself.

“Where’s your dad then?” Harry asked wearily. “Why is he not here annoying us?”

Emmy rolled her eyes at him. “You’re so predictable.”

“What?!” He tried to sound innocent.

She giggled at him. “That could be a good drinking game. Take a shot every time you mention my dad.”

“As if you’d be any good at drinking games?” he teased lightly. “Remember that time you got drunk on champagne?”

She blushed, knowing exactly which time he was talking about. “Let’s not.”

“You tried to kiss me.”

“I asked you to kiss me, totally different.”

He scoffed. “Right. And that time you got drunk on Vodka. Taylor’s 21st.”

She blushed somehow even deeper. “Don’t.”

“You asked me to eat you out.”

“And what’s worse,” she replied, scowling. “Is that you did! I was drunk and you took advantage of me!”

“Well I had no idea you felt that way,” he replied dryly, knowing that she was only joking to try and get revenge on him for bringing it up. “If that’s how you feel, I promise to never eat you out again.”

She glared at him, and he chuckled, snaking an arm round her waist to pull her to him. She moved into his hold, her hand going to his chest as they tried to hug inconspicuously – the press had caught on that  the Duke and Duchess of Clarence would be attending this wedding, and so dozens of paparazzi were camped over the road, trying to snap as many pictures as possible.

“Ahh, here you are,” said a familiar nasally, arrogant voice, and Harry turned to see Alexander approaching them. Harry’s smile disappeared – he loathed his father-in-law.

“Hi Father,” Emmy said, moving to hug him in greeting. Harry merely nodded once.

“Henry,” Alexander greeted him. “And how is my little granddaughter? Still crawling?’

“Yep, she crawls everywhere now,” Emmy said, with a little laugh. “She’s becoming a nuisance.”

“Oh I can’t believe that,” Alexander replied. “I keep meaning to come and visit but I’m just so busy, you know.”

Harry very nearly scoffed, but stopped himself.

“You look very smart today, Henry,” Alexander observed.

“Father, it’s Harry,” Emmy murmured.

“Do I usually look stupid?” Harry replied coolly.

Emmy shot him a look – after all, her father was being nice.

Alexander looked pointedly at him as though to emphasise that he wasn’t biting, and then turned to Emmy. “Emmaline, have you been and spoken to Aunt Helen yet?”

Somehow, hearing Alexander call Emmy “Emmaline” always annoyed Harry more than being called Henry. He glared at him, thinking back to the time he’d punched him and trying to focus on the satisfaction that had come with that.

“Not yet, we’ve only really just got here,” Emmy explained. “I’ll probably catch up at the reception.”

“You must go and say hello,” Alexander replied insistently. “They’ll be very offended if you just stand with Henry all day. Besides, you see Henry all the time.”

Emmy nodded, trying to get him to get off her case, and finally he muttered something about spotting an old friend of his, and he hurried off to brag to someone else. Emmy let out the breath she’d been holding and turned to Harry.

“Thank you for biting your tongue,” she said, moving back into his arms. “I could tell it was hard for you.”

“I thought about that time I punched him to distract myself,” he admitted.

She giggled lightly into him. “I know he said that I see you all the time, but it’s really nice to just have a day with you all to myself.”

“Unfortunately, you have to share me with your father, apparently.”

“Of course, Henry,” she replied, smirking.

He groaned. “It’s so annoying when people call me that, because that’s what my parents always used to call me when I was naughty.”

“Have you been naughty?”

Harry recognised her playful tone, and he grinned before dropping his voice and saying, “You tell me.”

She fought a giggle, her arms snaking up to drape round his neck. “Are you going to be naughty?”

“Maybe tonight,” he whispered, his hands folding at the small of her back. “If you’re lucky.”

Warmth spread into Emmy’s cheeks, and she leant up on her tip-toes to kiss him in order to spare herself the embarrassment. He chuckled lightly into her mouth, holding her tightly to him.

“Remember when this was our wedding?” he breathed.

“I remember you kissing me in Westminster Abbey, and the Dean walking in on us,” she said, laughing lightly at the memory.

“Our first kiss,” he mused, thinking back. “Everything was so much easier back then.”

She raised an eyebrow, confused. “What? Arranged marriage and all?”

“Back then, that was the only thing that we had to deal with,” he said. “Now, we have to worry about showing Grace off to the public, and we have to worry about upsetting Kate while somehow doing more engagements than most of my family.” He shrugged. “It’s just sad, is all.”

“We are expected to do a lot right now,” Emmy agreed. “But I don’t mind. I like visiting my charities.”

He half-smiled at her. “And that is honestly the most incredible thing. I’m so proud of you for that. Well, I’m so proud of you for everything.”

She giggled lightly. “Thanks. Oh, is it time to go in?”

“I think it might be.”

They walked hand-in-hand towards the church, following the rest of the guests and blending in effortlessly.

Meanwhile, Edward was pacing the living room with a screaming Grace in his arms. She’d been crying for what felt like forever and he couldn’t figure out what was the matter.

“Why are you crying?” he complained. “Your father said that you’re a good baby, he said you hardly ever cry!” Then he scowled. “Somehow, I think he may have just been saying that to get me to babysit. Well I won’t make that mistake again, Grace. Don’t worry, you’re not the only one here who wants to scream. Why are you crying?!”

He sighed, overwhelmed by the noise. This was why he didn’t particularly like children, because they were loud and noisy for absolutely no reason at all. He didn’t even have a tie or his favourite pen to give her to try and calm her.

“Grace, please stop crying,” he said, sitting down and rocking her. Her cries faltered for a moment, and he hastily continued, quickening, but then she started to cry harder and he guessed that maybe he was rocking her a little too hard.

Why had he agreed to this? He had so much paperwork to do!

He decided to try her with her bottle again, and this time she latched on eagerly.

“Was that it? You were hungry?” he asked, incredulous but relieved. “I tried to feed you earlier, but you screamed at me!”

Her blue eyes were wide and big as she peered up at him, one hand going to her bottle. He couldn’t help but smile down at her, now so peaceful.

“Hey, that’s better,” he breathed, stroking her blond hair with his other hand. “Now I can hear myself think.”

She simply stared back at him, and then as he smiled down at her, she broke into her own smile, spilling milk everywhere.

“Oh silly billy!” he gasped, reaching for her bib and wiping her chops with it. She giggled, the fabric tickling under her chin, and he chuckled too.

“That’s a lot better,” he mused.

The phone rang then, and he cursed, expecting it to disturb Grace, but miraculously she barely noticed it. He cradled her with one arm, holding her to his chest, before hurrying over to get it. He saw Harry’s name on the screen.

“Harry? Everything okay?” he asked, as Grace stopped feeding and let her bottle fall to the floor.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just checking on Grace.”

“And here I thought you wanted to speak to me,” Edward replied dryly.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, she was crying for about half an hour and then she finally fed and now she’s fine,” he explained, then added playfully, “Do you not trust me with her?”

“Of course I do,” Harry said, laughing. “But Emmy doesn’t. She’s been getting on at me to check on Grace.”

“Well Grace is fine,” Edward said. “How is the wedding?”

“Well, we just finished the service and now we’re heading to the reception,” Harry said. “Unfortunately I’ve already had to speak to Emmy’s father three times. And he’s called me Henry about eight.”

Edward chuckled. “Maybe I should call you Henry, then you might actually do as I say.”

“Or I’ll punch you, one of the two.”

“True, true.” He laughed. “Okay, I’ll let you both get on. Enjoy your evening.”

“Have fun with Grace.”

“As much fun as you can have with a six-month-old and Sky TV.”

Harry snorted. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“Have fun.”

Emmy watched as Harry spoke on the phone, wondering how Grace was, hoping she was okay, hoping that Edward was coping. She hovered somewhat nervously as Harry talked, and didn’t appreciate how she joked.

“Is she okay?” she blurted, once Harry had hung up.

“She’s fine, she’s just fed.”

“Oh thank god, I kept having horrible images of something happening,” Emmy breathed, raising a hand to her forehead. “Edward’s okay with her?”

“I think so.”

“You mean you don’t know?!”

“He is okay, yeah, he’s fine,” Harry added hastily. “He’ll look after Grace like she was his own.”

“But he doesn’t have a child of his own, how does he know-”

“Em.” He cut her off, and she silenced immediately. “He’s fine. Grace is fine. Now let’s go get some food.”

She nodded, trying to force the anxiety from her mind. They were at a wedding, and they should try and have a good time.

They took their seats in the dining hall; there were dozens of round tables there, decorated with flowers and lace and ribbons that matched the bridesmaids. Harry and Emmy found themselves sat beside Benedict and Emmy’s sister Lucy. Opposite them, strangers began to take their places. One of them shook hands with Benedict after exclaiming about having not seen him for so long.

“I went to school with him,” Benedict explained to Harry, as he too his seat beside him. “He’s friends with the groom.”

“Ah,” Harry said, watching as another guy – evidently also an old classmate of Benedict’s – joined them, and started introducing himself to Harry.

“Oh shit, Emmy, look who it is,” he heard Lucy say.

He looked round instantly, wondering who it was, who could induce such amusement and smugness in Lucy’s voice. His eyes went to Emmy’s face as a blush doused her cheeks, and she looked horrified.

“Please don’t be sitting here,” she hissed, and Lucy smirked.

“Who is it?” Harry asked, eyes following Emmy’s to a guy who looked to be about her age. He was tall – although not as tall as Harry, he would like to point out – with naturally good looks. There was a curvy brunette on his arm, who was hanging on to his every word, giggling annoyingly.

The guy stopped at their table and greeted the guys who were Benedict’s old classmates, as apparently they knew each other. Then his eyes flickered round the table; Harry saw his eyebrows rise slightly as he took him in, and then his gaze moved on to Emmy. His eyes widened.

“Well look who it is,” he said, and Emmy could no longer pretend to ignore him. “Hi Emmy.”

“Oh hi James,” she said weakly. She got up so that they could shake hands, and Harry got up too, guessing who this was and knowing that an introduction was imminent. “This is my husband, Harry. Harry, this is James, an old friend of mine.”

“We dated,” James stated somewhat smugly, confirming Harry’s suspicions.

“Briefly,” Emmy added, blushing.

Harry shook James’ hand, already disliking him. He’d heard things about this guy, about how he had tried to pressure Emmy into getting drunk, into having sex, even trying to give drugs to her at some point. So Harry’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed him. “So you’re where Emmy’s issues with men comes from.”

While those around the table laughed, thinking it was a joke, James scowled. “I never got much of a chance to be a man to her. I would’ve, if she’d let me.”

Harry’s mouth was set as he answered. “You would’ve been more of a man if you’d accepted her decision.”

James’ eyebrow raised, and he turned to Emmy. “Been bitching about me to him?”

“I just told him my experience of men,” she replied coolly. “Which wasn’t particularly pleasant. I must say, since you I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”

He rolled his eyes, then turned to his girlfriend. “Shall we sit down, babe?”

The table was now full, and the food was served quickly, to Harry’s relief. He managed to focus on his food and only occasionally join in with Benedict and his friend’s discussion. Lucy and Emmy spoke animatedly to the girl they were sat beside, who had gone to their college. She wanted to hear all about Emmy’s new life as a royal, and Harry couldn’t help but notice that James seemed to be listening in to that conversation. Harry hoped he was jealous.

Before long the speeches were over and it was time for the first dance. Bella and her new husband took to the floor;  she looked lovely in her white dress which flowed around her as she was spun, and Harry and Emmy watched from the side with the rest of the guests. Harry’s eyes kept drifting, finding James in the crowd; James kept watching Emmy, and Harry did not like that one bit.

“Let’s dance,” Harry murmured, hand at the small of Emmy’s back, once other couples had joined the newlyweds on the floor.

“Ooh okay,” Emmy mused, letting him lead her on. “Two dances in one month, what is happening to you?”

He chuckled lightly, watching James as James glared at them. “I just really love you, you know.”

Now Emmy frowned up at him, suspicious. “Alright, what is it?”

“What?”

“Why are you grovelling?”

He laughed innocently. “I’m not! I do love you!”

“Oh, I know, but why are you saying it? And why are you dancing with me?” They spun, and Emmy finally noticed James. “Because of him? Are you showing off that you’re with me?”

“No!”

She raised an eyebrow up at him, and he sighed.

“Fine, maybe a bit, but he keeps looking at you and watching you and I don’t like it one bit,” he admitted, turning his blue eyes to her in what he hoped was an apologetic and perhaps slightly distracting way. “He’s obviously angry by how confident you are now. And I think he’s jealous because of it.”

Emmy rolled her eyes. “And you’re jealous because he’s watching me?”

“I’m smug because no matter how much he wants you, I have you.” He reached up from his neck and took her left hand, thumbing her engagement and wedding ring. “He didn’t appreciate you, and now look. He lost you.”

She smiled, resting her head on his chest and sighing. “I think I need a drink.”

He chuckled. “Sounds good to me.”

After the song had ended and the party had started, they went to get some drinks, and then they spent the rest of the evening on the dancefloor. Emmy didn’t want to speak to her family, and Harry was only too happy to cooperate, so they spent the next few hours dancing, and then going out to get some fresh air in the gardens of the hotel.

They went in to get their third round of drinks when the night was unexpectedly brought to an end. As they waited at the bar, the man beside them was talking to one of the waiters.

“It’s awful, I can’t believe these things keep happening,” he was saying. “Second attack in London this year, too.”

Emmy couldn’t miss that. She stopped and stared, trying to hear more of what they were saying, as horror filled her. London? An attack in London? What had happened?!

Harry appeared to have had the exact same reaction, for he looked at the man and said, “What was that? An attack in London?”

“Afraid so,” he man said, after gaping at who he was talking to. “Apparently man just drove car into pedestrians on London Bridge. There’s been reports of stabbings too, and something about explosive vests.”

“London Bridge?!” Emmy quoted, struggling to catch her breath. London Bridge was only about 15 minutes away from Kensington, where Grace was! What if the attack had been close to the palace?! What if something was still going to happen at the palace, what if they were coordinated attacks?! What if something happened to Grace?!

All of a sudden, the alcohol she’d drunk had gone from her head, and all she could think about was her little girl.

As soon as the door was opened Emmy ran inside.

“Grace?!” she blurted, hurrying to the living room. Edward was just getting to his feet from the sofa, with Grace dozing in his arms. He tried to smile reassuringly, but Emmy was too busy trying to take Grace from him. “Oh Grace, baby, you’re okay, thank God you’re okay!”

A hand at the small of her back rubbed reassuringly, and Harry kissed the back of her head. “She’s fine, she’s fine, I told you she’d be fine.”

Emmy couldn’t take her eyes off her, holding Grace tightly to her. “Oh thank God, oh thank God.”

Edward watched, smiling sadly. “It’s awful, isn’t it? I’ve just been watching the news.”

“I’m sorry we messed you about,” Harry said to him. “We just couldn’t bear to be so far away with her here.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” he answered. “I’ll just grab my stuff and then I’ll let you three be. She was very good, by the way. When she wasn’t crying.”

Emmy sank into the chair with Grace, holding her close. “I never want to be away from her again,” she whispered, once Edward had gone and Harry had sat down on the sofa beside her.

“That was scary,” Harry agreed, stroking Grace’s head as the little girl slept on.

“I don’t want you to go tomorrow,” Emmy breathed, sounding teary. “That’s the second attack in two weeks. What happens if there’s another one?!”

“Don’t be silly, what difference is it going to make if I’m here?”

“I won’t be as scared if you’re here.”

He wrapped an arm round her shoulders, pulling her into him, and he kissed her forehead. He didn’t like the thought of leaving his girls there on their own, he didn’t like the thought of Emmy being scared, but there was nothing he could do. As hard as it would be, he had four days in Singapore and Australia to deal with, to smile and be happy while all along all he wanted was to be back here and look after his family.

This was going to be a difficult four days.