Chapter 14 - God Bless The Child.

About an hour after Brian’s party had arrived at The Strand Palace, the doors to the basement air raid shelter were opened again and a young woman and her small child were pushed quickly inside.

“This way, madam,” the hotel Hostess said, gesturing to the woman. She was led over to a darkened corner of the room. “Sit down here,” she told the young woman, spreading a blanket out onto the carpeted floor. “You’ll be safe in here.”

“Thank yer, Ma’am,” the woman replied with a bit of a curtsy. “I was just so very scared out there, yer know? It was so loud and there’s so many fires. I couldn’t get to the shelter where we was s’posed to be.”

“I understand, Madame. I wouldn’t want to be out there in that with my little one either,” the Hostess replied but then rushed off, leaving the woman on her own, seemingly without another thought.

Brian looked over from their table and scooted closer to Daphne so that he could whisper in her ear. “Why did they put that woman over there in the corner on the floor?”

Daphne watched as the young girl tried her hardest to get her little boy to be quiet and sit down beside her. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen or nineteen years old. The child was fussy, though, and probably scared to boot, and wouldn’t hold still. The more noise the boy made, the more the girl looked about her, seeming embarrassed and nervous. But the more upset the mother became, the worse the little boy acted.

“Because, ‘Andsome, she’s not like the resta yer; she ain’t got money. She belongs ‘ere as much as I do. They’re only bein’ nice to Fancy and meself because we’s wiv’ you. Otherwise, I’d be sitting on me arris on the floor too.”

“That’s fucked up,” Brian muttered angrily. “They can’t do that.”

Daphne laughed bitterly. “Oh, they can, and they will. They don’t care ‘bout the likes of us. We ain’t nuffin to them.”

Brian immediately got up and made his way over to the corner of the room where he crouched down beside the lady and her young child. Seeing the scared little brute snuggled up against his mama made Brian’s heart yearn for his own little boy, who was thankfully safe with his mothers back in 2016. The thought of raising Gus at a time like this made him feel sick.

“Hi,” Brian said, smiling at the girl.

The woman jumped and brought her hand to her chest.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Brian apologized softly. “I just wanted to see if the two of you needed anything.”

The little boy in her lap waved shyly, but the woman simply shook her head and looked down quickly. “No, sir, we’re fine. Thank yer kindly, Sir.”

Brian felt someone tap him on the shoulder. “Is everything okay over here, sir? Is this young lady bothering you?” the Hostess asked, looking down at the girl with distaste lining her face.

Brian couldn’t believe what he was hearing, these people had a lot of fucking nerve.

“Everything is just fine and dandy,” Brian replied facetiously. “In fact, I was just asking this lovely lady if she’d like to join our table.”

The Hostess cleared her throat. “May I speak with you privately for a moment, Mr. Kinney?”

Brian stood and followed the lady over towards the bar. “What?”

“I’m sorry to cause you any inconvenience, sir, but the thing is . . .” the Hostess stumbled nervously over her words as she tried to figure out exactly what she wanted to say. “It’s just that . . . we need to be very careful with individuals like that.”

Brian cut her off before she could continue.

“Individuals like that?” he asked, his tone harsh.

The Hostess nodded her head. “Yes, sir.”

“And what sort of individual would that be?” Brian’s tone dripped with contempt.

The hostess cleared her throat nervously. “She . . . Well, she’s working class, Sir,” Brian didn’t respond except to stare at the woman with even more displeasure, so the hotel representative nervously continued. “Unfortunately, that class of people can sometimes make our guests feel somewhat uncomfortable.”

Brian could feel his blood pressure rising with each passing second, this woman was infuriating. Because of the advantages of his education and money, he was being treated respectfully, but if these people knew who he really was - the gay son of a working class Irish drunk - he’d be the one relegated to the corner. Or worse. Fuckers! But Brian Kinney DID have money now and he was not going to put up with this kind of shit.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Brian told the hostess sharply. “You're going to bring two more chairs over to my table and then you’re going to get that woman and her son whatever the hell they want to eat, do you understand?”

The Hostess looked scandalized. “But, Sir . . . how will they pa . . .”

“Just add it all onto my fucking bill,” Brian ordered, his voice rising loudly enough that the heads at all the neighboring tables turned.

“Yes, sir,” the Hostess responded, quickly scuttling off, willing to do whatever it took to placate one of the hotel’s best customers.

While the hostess was off directing her staff to find the chairs and warning them about Mr. Kinney’s directives, Brian walked back over to the young lady and crouched down next to her. “Hey there. My name’s Brian Kinney,” he introduced himself, hoping to gain her trust.

“I’m Vera,” she replied shyly. Her eyes never leaving the floor. “Vera Hastings, Sir.”

Vera

“Nice to meet you, Vera. And who is this little guy?

Vera rubbed the kid’s arm and kissed the top of his head. “Can yer tell this nice man ‘ere yer name?”

The little boy buried his face in his mother’s side, peeking at Brian quickly before hiding his face again. “‘Arry,” the boy replied so quietly that Brian struggled to hear him properly.

Harry

Brian smiled at the way the little boy glued himself to his mother’s side, the gesture reminded him so much of the way Gus would snuggle up close to him when meeting someone new for the first time.

“Hi, Harry. It’s nice to meet you. Are you hungry?”

Harry’s head shot up and he nodded excitedly.

“No, he’s fine,” Vera answered for her son.

“Come on, get up. You’re both coming to join my friends and I at our table.”

Vera shook her head bashfully and tried to stop Harry from standing up. “We can’t, Sir. We don’ wanna cause no trouble.”

“I can assure you, Vera, you won’t be causing any trouble. I want you there. Now, let’s go. Your kid’s hungry.” Brian offered his hand and helped her up.

Once Brian got them settled at his table, he introduced them to Daphne and Fancy. Daphne fussed over the girl a little, making sure she was settled and comfortable. Vera seemed to relax a little in Daphne’s presence.

“Harry, do you like warm milk?” Brian asked.

The little boy’s eyes got big and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, I likes it a lot. It makes my tummy all nice an’ warm.”

“Yes, Sir,” Vera looked mortified as she corrected her son.

Brian ruffled Harry’s hair but spoke directly to the embarrassed woman. “It’s okay, Vera. You can both call me Brian.”

Vera nodded in acknowledgement but kept her head down with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“What would you both like to eat?” Brian asked. “You can have anything you want.”

Harry looked excited and his little tummy rumbled loudly. “Can I ‘ave sum bread?”

“Just some bread?” Brian couldn’t get over how happy this kid was at the mere idea of having a plain slice of bread. “How about a little butter on there too?”

The little boy shook his head. “It ain’t Sunday. Grandma says we can only ‘ave butter on Sundays.”

Brian stage whispered to the little boy. “Your grandma isn’t here and I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

Harry covered his mouth and giggled happily.

“What about you, Vera? You must be hungry too.”

She shook her head.

Brian looked at Daphne desperately for help.

“Well, I know I’m right ‘ungry. I ‘eard their pie an’ mash is to die for,” she said as she looked over the menu. “An’ ‘m gaspin’ for a cuppa.”

At the mention of a warm meal, Vera’s stomach betrayed her and rumbled loudly.

Brian waved over one of the waitresses and gave their order. He wasn’t even hungry, but he wanted to make Vera and Harry feel as comfortable as possible, so he ordered enough to feed all of them - minced beef pie and mash for the other three adults, a plate of buttered toast for Harry, and a Waldorf salad for himself. He also asked for a pot of tea, some milk for the boy, and another round of drinks for all. He figured that should keep them for at least a while.

It didn’t take long for the waiter to bring over the tea and warm milk.

“Have you ever had warm cocoa?” Brian asked the little boy.

Harry shook his head.

Brian asked the waiter to fetch his bag for him. Thirty seconds later, the man came hurrying back with a small black leather tote bag. Brian unzipped the top, reached inside, fumbled around amid all the contents for a moment and then came out with a large chocolate bar in hand. While the rest of the group was still marveling at this magic, Brian broke off a small piece of the chocolate and plopped it straight into Harry’s cup of warm milk.

Harry’s eyes widened as he watched Brian stir the drink until it was all mixed together.

“For me?” Harry asked as Brian placed the chocolatey drink back in front of him.

“Yep. All for you.”

Brian watched as the little boy took his first sip. The smile that bloomed on his sweet little face was so big, Brian thought it might break his angelic little face. Harry quickly seized the cup and started to drink it down quickly.

“Slow down, Harry. You don’t need to drink it that fast,” Brian told him softly, thinking that the last thing he needed was the kid throwing up. “No one's going to take it away from you. And there’s more where that came from, if you want seconds.”

Harry put the cup down and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, his top lip covered in the most adorable chocolate milk moustache. “Yer ‘asta try some, mummy,” he all but begged his mum.

Vera smiled at the look of pure bliss on her son’s face and took a sip, humming appreciatively as the warm drink ran down her throat. “That’s delicious,” she said quietly. “Thank yer, Mr. Brian.”

When their food came a few minutes later, the group ate in relative silence, savouring the delicious grub.

Harry couldn’t stop smiling as he devoured his toast and licked the butter from his chubby fingers.

Vera looked horrified and scolded the little boy. “‘Arry, where’s yer manners? People don’ lick their fingers in fancy places like this.”

Brian locked eyes with Harry and gave him a little wink before he used his index finger to collect some of the leftover mayonnaise from his salad and popped it into his mouth, giving it a little lick.

Harry giggled at the man’s silliness. “Yer funny, Mista,” he told Brian in between a yawn.

“Are you getting sleepy, Harry?” Brian asked.

The little boy shook his head stubbornly as he climbed off of his chair and up into Brian’s lap - much to the older man’s surprise - settling in and resting his head against Brian’s chest. “No. Not sleepy, but me eyes won’t stay open,” Harry explained as he used his fingers to keep his eyes from closing.

“I think that means you’re tired, little guy.” Brian laughed softly against Harry’s head. The little boy had made himself quite comfortable on Brian’s lap.

“Nah, I ain’t,” Harry argued tiredly, his eyes closed more with each passing moment and, within only a minute or two, he was fast asleep in Brian’s arms.

Vera stood hurriedly, arms open, ready to take the sleeping boy from Brian.

Brian shook his head and motioned for her to sit back down. “Finish your tea,” he told her. “He’s fine here.”

There was something about having the sleeping kid snuggled in his arms that pulled at Brian’s heartstrings. It made him miss his own son, Gus. When he got back to 2016, the first thing he was going to do was invite the munchers to London, and spend as much quality time as he could with his own little boy. If there was one thing 1941 had taught him, it was that time was precious and you just never knew what the fuck could happen next.

“‘E don’ usually take ta strangers,” Vera told him quietly. “But ‘e must really like yer”.”

Her comment made Brian smile. “My son’s the same.”

Daphne’s mouth fell open in shock. “Yer ‘ave a son? Well, I woulda never ‘ave guessed it.”

“I do,” Brian grinned. “His name is Gus. He’ll be three in September.”

“Is ‘e as ‘andsome as you?” Daphne asked teasingly.

“It might be hard to believe,” Brian boasted proudly. “But maybe even more so.”

“That don’t s’prise me.”

Brian turned to Vera. “It’s not unusual for kids Harry’s age to be shy. The world’s a big scary place when you’re that little.”

“Yeah, an’ evah since ‘is Dad died, ‘e just ain’t been the same.”

This caused Brian to hug Harry a little tighter.

Vera continued, “it ‘asn’t been easy, ya know. We ‘ad ta move in wiv me mother ta make ends meet and poor ‘Arry misses ‘is friends and ta old place, right badly.”

Brian didn’t want the woman to dwell on that sadness, so he immediately pressed on to a more neutral topic - something he actually COULD help with. “When you’ve finished eating, I’ll show you where you can sleep,” Brian offered, scooting the limp little body higher up his chest to a more comfortable spot.

“That's very kind of yer,” Vera said softly. “But we ain’t got no money to stay ‘ere.”

Brian shook his head. “I don’t expect you to pay for anything. You’re my guests here, Vera.”

Vera started to argue, but Brian stopped her. “The two of you need a good night’s rest. And this air raid is going to last all night, which means you’re stuck here for the foreseeable future. So, no arguing. You're going to take our sleeping cubicle and that’s final.”

“I . . . I don’ know what ta say, Mr. Brian,” Vera exclaimed, looking so sweet and shy and bashful that Brian’s heart melted a little bit. “Thank yer, Sir. It’s right kind of yer.”

Brian waited till Vera had finished her last bite of pie and sipped her last bit of tea and then he signaled the Hostess over.

“Vera and her son will be taking my sleeping cubicle tonight. Please make sure there’s an extra blanket in there for the boy. And if they need ANYTHING else, please make sure they get it and put it on my bill,” Brian ordered.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Kinney, Sir,” the Hostess replied, hurrying off to comply with Brian’s wishes.

Once the Hostess had gotten everything sorted in the cubicle, Brian and Daphne helped get Vera and a still sleeping Harry settled for the night.

“It’s probably best you take the top bunk, Vera,” Brian whispered as he started to lower Harry onto the bottom bunk.

As Harry’s head hit the pillow, he half woke and, not recognizing where he was, the small boy began to cry. His little body shook and he wrapped his arms even tighter around Brian’s neck, refusing to let go. Brian immediately scooped the boy back up and rubbed his back soothingly.

“Don’ like it ‘ere,” Harry’s voice trembled as he spoke.

“Shhh. You’re okay, you’re okay,” Brian whispered soothingly.

It must have worked, since the boy’s cries eventually petered out. Brian continued to pet the boy’s silky-fine hair, feeling relieved as even the silent tears dried, leaving the child quiet except for the occasional sniffle. Of course, Brian’s opinion about how sweet little boys were changed a minute later, as Harry wiped his runny nose on Brian’s shirt, causing the finicky man to cringe. But Brian’s feeling of disgust quickly evaporated, though, as he felt the little boy once again rest his small, trusting, head against the big, strong chest.

“It’s real dark in ‘ere,” Harry sniffled again.

It was only then that Brian remembered what else was in his special bag of tricks from the future - something he hoped might help.

“Hey, Daph, can you go get my bag for me,” Brian asked, and smiled as the woman ran off at once.

Then Brian ducked down, Harry still in his arms, and settled himself on the bottom bunk. The boy burrowed even closer into his chest, the little arms clenching tightly, as if to prevent Brian from leaving. When Daphne returned with the bag, Brian actually had a bit of a struggle to get an arm free, so he could find what he’d been looking for.

“I have something for you,” Brian told the kid as he pulled his hand out of the bag. “Aha, here it is,” Brian beamed, as he pulled a bright red Maglite flashlight out of the bag and handed it to the curious little tyke in his lap. “See here,” Brian showed him how to twist the lens end, which caused the small but powerful LED light to illuminate. “Bright, huh?” The boy nodded, twirling the flashlight around so the beam darted all over. “As long as you have this, you don’t need to worry about the dark. Right?”

“Un huh!” Harry replied, so fascinated by the amazing little device that he didn’t even notice when Brian carefully shifted the child off his lap and stood up again.

“That should keep him busy,” Brian stated, happy to see the way the boy was giggling at his new toy. “So, Harry, here’s the deal. You can keep that flashlight, but only if you’re a good boy for your mom and go to sleep now. Okay?” The boy nodded enthusiastically. “Good boy. Now, let’s turn it off so you don’t waste the batteries. But if you wake up and get scared again, all you have to do is turn it on, and it’ll chase away all the darkness. Sound good?”

Harry quickly did as he was told, turning the lens end so that the light went out again. Brian waited patiently till the boy squirmed down, laying his little head on the pillow, the nifty new flashlight clutched tightly in his hand. Then Brian pulled the blanket up to the child’s chin and tucked him in. Like most children that age, little Harry was back asleep within seconds of his head touching the pillow.

“Thank yer kindly, Sir,” Vera reached down and took the flashlight out of the boy’s hand, turning to give it back to Brian. “‘At was nice o’ yer ta let ‘im play wiv your torch. I ‘preciate yer ‘elpin’ me get ‘im ta sleep. ‘E can be right tryin’ sometimes an’ e’s never liked the dark. You best take this, though, fore he wakes up.”

Brian refused to take back the flashlight, though, pushing Vera’s hand back. “That’s Harry’s. I gave it to him to keep.”

“Oh, I can’t let yer do ‘at, Sir. It’s an expensive thing, ‘at. Too fine for me ‘Arry.”

“No. It’s his. You heard me give it to him. I’m not taking it back,” Brian insisted. “Besides, it’s no big deal. I’ve got another right here.” Brian reached in the bag and pulled out another Maglite, this one with a blue casing. “See? I don’t need that one. I’m sure the boy will get a lot more enjoyment out of it than me, and I can always get another when I get home.”

“I . . . I don’ know what to say, Mr. Brian,” Vera replied, reaching down to slide the flashlight back into the sleeping child’s hand and then turning to give Brian a big, unsolicited hug. “Nobody’s been this kind to us since my Frankie died. I wish I had some way to repay you.”

“No need,” Brian insisted as he peeled the woman’s arms off him and made to leave the compartment. “Just take good care of that little boy and we’ll call it even.” Brian waited while Daphne preceded him through the door before turning back to say a final, “Goodnight, Vera. Be safe.”

Outside the room, Brian summoned over the Hostess one more time. “Two things.” He dug a twenty pound note out of his wallet and handed it to the woman. “First, make sure you get Vera’s address for me before she leaves tomorrow morning. Then, have someone take that money, buy groceries with it, and deliver them to her. And when that’s done, send whoever it was that delivered the groceries up to see me so I can reward them too.”

The Hostess assured Brian it would be taken care of first thing. As soon as she left, however, Brian found himself being violently hugged by yet another woman. This one Brian didn’t mind so much.

“Why, ‘Andsome, if yer ain't the sweetest man I ever met, I’ll be a monkey's uncle!” Daphne gushed, so impressed with Brian’s generosity she was literally beaming at him with a smile that was practically as bright as Harry’s new torch. “If yer ain’t careful, I’m like as to fall in love wiv yer too and then Sunshine’ll hafta fight me for ya!”

That got Brian laughing. “Sorry, Daph, but I’m afraid you’re just not my type,” he confessed, leaning in so he could leave a kiss on her cheek. “But if I did like women, I’d go for you too!” Daphne chuckled and winked at him boldly. “Besides, you’re not going to think I’m all that great by morning, since I just gave away our beds.”

“No matter. We’ll just stay up drinkin’ all night an’ sleep ta’marra!” Daphne proposed, linking her arm through Brian’s and leading him back to their table so they could start in on the plan.