Cecil (The Rescue - part 10)

[smallhobbit]

Whilst Gene has gone back to the station and Sam and Cal are still in Sam's flat (part 9) Cecil and the Missus are in the Hunt house.

 

Mrs Hunt was used to her husband bringing home waifs and strays that needed caring for.  Firstly there was his DI, who she considered a long term commitment.  Then there was their current cat which had made its first appearance as a small ball of fluff hidden in a coat pocket.  The Missus had never been sure when Gene had intended telling her that they’d acquired a new pet, but once the kitten had started to mew it had been a bit of a giveaway.  The Missus viewed Cecil in much the same way as the kitten: in need of food, warmth and a bit of TLC.

Cecil was very happy.  For the first time in ages he wasn’t being shouted at or ordered around.  A quiet, “Could you butter that bread please, luv,” was the most that was demanded of him.  Because Mrs Hunt wasn’t asking questions he started to tell her about himself, of his hopes and dreams.  She listened, nodded occasionally and made fresh mugs of coffee.  By the end of the afternoon she had learnt that he’d run away from home shortly after his parents separated, when he had felt that neither of them had wanted him.  That when he’d arrived in Manchester he’d met a couple of lads a few years older than him who had told him how much he could earn as a rent boy, although he’d quickly discovered that they had exaggerated.  He told her that he hadn’t wanted to get involved with the filming but had been too frightened to refuse.

Mrs Hunt looked at the clock, “I shall have to start getting tea.  How does steak and kidney pie sound to you?  Do you want to go and watch the television while I get on with it?”

Cecil grinned, “That sounds great.  Can I give you a hand?  I’d really like to.”

“Okay, dear.  If that’s what you want.”  Mrs Hunt measured out the ingredients for the pastry and realised Cecil was watching her intently.  “Do you want to have a go?”

Later, once they had eaten tea, the Missus asked Gene, “How did you enjoy your pie?”

“It was really good.  The pastry was lighter than usual.”

“Cecil made it.”

Gene looked at the lad, “I’m impressed.”

“I spoke to our Brian this afternoon,” continued his wife, “and mentioned that we knew a lad who might be suitable to work in his restaurant.  He says he’ll give him a trial.  They’ve got a spare room he can use until he can find somewhere of his own.”

“When can ‘e start?”

“Brian said next Monday.”

“Even better.  I can get Tyler to drive ‘im over on Sunday.”

With that Gene got up, took the whisky bottle and a glass from the cupboard and headed into the front room, feeling very satisfied that he’d sorted out what to do with Cecil. 

Night Time