“No!” Damien laughed.
“Good! I must have got them! Would you mind if I had a look to see if you have any? We’ll do bogey patrol!” Damien handed him the light, tilted his head and Ollie had a peek, “Damien,” He asked seriously, “Have you swallowed any frogs?”
Damien laughed wildly. “No!”
“No? Well, your mother told me you had a frog in your throat!” Oliver ran the light in front of the boy’s eyes.
“My throat hurts.”
“Well, it might be a frog, yeah? Even if you didn’t swallow it on purpose, sometimes they crawl in there while you’re sleeping and get stuck. Might be why your throat hurts. May I have a look?”
Damien opened his mouth wide.
“Oh, dear,” Oliver shook his head, looking into the boy’s throat, and clicked his tongue, “Definitely a frog. Maybe two. Do your ears hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Let me have a look then,” Oliver waited for the boy to turn his head, and then checked his ear, “Pesky frogs! They’ve gotten into your ears, too, Lad!”
Damien looked shocked.
“No worries,” Ollie checked the other ear, and then fingered the glands in the boy’s neck, “We have anti-frog serum we can give you. Some other doctors might tell your mother that you have a sinus and a double ear infection, but I won’t lie. It’s definitely frogs.” Damien’s mother laughed. “Let me have a quick listen to you breathe,” Oliver popped on his stethoscope and pressed it to the boy‘s chest,, “Very good, Lad!” He turned back to the mother, “We’ll give him an antibiotic,” He pulled his pad out of his lab coat pocket and began to scribble on it, “And something for pain. Clear liquids, lots of rest. He’ll be good as new in no time.”
“Thank you,” The woman took the paper from his hand.
“No worries. In the meantime, Damien,” He looked serious once more, “Take your anti-frog serum and try to sleep with your mouth closed tonight. Your mum can spray the house for frogs in the morning and you shouldn’t have any more problems.” Ollie patted his head and grinned. “Go home now! Eat your vegetables!”
That was my Oliver. He had a way of always knowing what to say to make someone feel better. He was born to be a doctor. He was born to be a dad. He’d come home from the office after a day of dealing with children from morning to afternoon and would have ours out in the garden in a flash. He’d be keeping track of Nigel, who was constantly running, have Carolena by a hand and Natalie in his other arm, walking and telling them all about the wood.
“Fawlie” Was one of Nigel’s first words. He said it as he bobbed up and down pointing at the faerie circle.
“Yes,” Alexander told him. “Faeries! That’s where they live!”
“Fawlie div!” Nigel shouted, “Dud!” He added and hit Alex hard in the face, “Dud!” He shouted and hit him again.
“Yes, Nigel, I’m your dad. Don’t hit people. It’s not nice.”
The Alexander I met at fifteen would have run away screaming if he had seen that scene coming. But the Alexander from those days was very different from the man standing before me now. Xander had become quite serious since Melissa left. He reminded us a bit too much of Edmond at times, but he had Oliver and I to take the piss out of him when he got to be too much. Once, when I was trying to have a snowball fight with him and he wasn’t being any fun at all, I managed to knock him on to the ground and shove one down the front of his blue jeans, tucking it nicely in the crotch of his pants. He retaliated by picking me up and pitching me into a drift. The sour puss. Oliver was always dumping glasses of water over Alex’s head, but the best was when Xander wouldn’t snap out of a bad mood one night and Oliver wrestled him to the floor and shoved chips up his nose.
“You bastard!” Alexander pulled them out when his brother finally let him up, “I’ll take these and make you eat them now!”
Oliver tried to escape, but Alex caught him by the his pullover and spun him around. He grabbed his brother by the head and tried to force them into his mouth, but Ollie managed to trip him and they both dropped to the floor. Alex still had Oliver’s head trapped under his arm. “Eat them! Eat the bogey flavoured chips, Oliver!” He smashed them into the side of his brother’s mouth.
“I’ll shove them up your arse!” Oliver swore through clenched lips, giggling as he struggled to escape the vice-like grip.
“Then they’ll taste even better, won’t they? Bogey-arse flavoured chips! Eat them!” Pop! He slapped his brother's cheek. Pop! Pop!
Oliver managed to pull away. Wiping his face with one hand, he lunged at Alex, who caught him around the waist and slammed him sideways on to the floor. The house shook as they began to wrestle, rolling about on the floor, punching each other and laughing like children.
It was so funny to watch those two at play. They were so nearly equal in size and strength you never knew which way the tide would sway. Very rarely did one ever tell the other that he loved him, but every slap, every kick, every sucker punch to the ribs said it louder than words.
Ollie was excellent at taking time for everyone. When he wasn’t at work healing the sick, he was spending time with Alexander, who needed his brother’s support more than he realised, or he was at his parents’ home helping them with the upkeep that was becoming too much for them in their age. But he always made sure that he would take Carolena and me on special walks, just us, up the path and over to the pond, “See that, Caro Muffin?” He showed her everything, “That is a ladybug. Not at all good to eat. And you see this? This is a mushroom, which sometimes is good to eat, but you must be careful. And that is Duncan’s cack. Never, ever eat that!” He gasped, “Oh, look! Moss! Feel it, Muffin, it’s soft! And this is a nice flat stone, good for skipping. When you’re older, we’ll skip a lot of these, right? Oh, no, Silly, no eating leaves! Mind, what I think the best thing in the world to eat is that little fist of yours, don’t you?” He would take that tiny wet little fist out of her mouth and pretend to munch on it and little Carolena would squeal with delight. Then he’d set her down and she’d do her best to run, toddling in every direction until she landed on her knees and got up to try it again.
They were a pair, those two. They loved each other with such tenderness it brought tears to my eyes at times. “I wudge yeeew, Datty,” She’d say as she squeezed his leg in her tiny little arms, “I wudge yeeew! Pit me ut!” She was feisty like me and tireless like him, a combination that could only be met with absolute love and unending patience, of which Oliver had both. If he maybe ran a little short once in a blue moon, I was able to pick up the slack.
It was at breakfast when Carolena was two and a half that Oliver told me I was pregnant.
“What?” I demanded, literally throwing a piece of toast at him. It hit him square in the chest. I sent one flying at Alex and he caught it.
“Check the calendar, Love. You were due five days ago.”
“He’s right,” Alex mumbled through a mouthful of eggs.
I accidentally dropped the next piece of toast on Nigel’s head. “Oh, so the two of you think you know my schedule better than I do?”
“Of course, Love, don’t you notice when we tend to hide?”
“Oh, shut up, Oliver! Alexander, stop your smiling or I’ll slap you!” I checked the calendar, “Well, you’re right.” I said without allowing myself to get too excited, “Bring me home a stick on your way tonight.”
“I have to go to work, Darling,” Alexander stood up, kissed all three of the children and faced me, “And I not might be back until late depending on how my meetings go. I’ll have to leave that little chore up to Oliver.”
“Get out of my house,” I warned. He pecked me on the forehead as he passed by. “And make sure you bring nappies for your daughter tonight.”
He waved over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.
“I’ve got to run, too,” Oliver leaned over Caro and she immediately puckered her pudgy lips. “Have a good day, Muffins,” He kissed Nigel, who was too involved in his cereal to respond, and Nattie, whose face was covered in gooey toast, on their heads, “But I will bring you home a stick, Silvia,” His voice lowered as he approached me, “I’m very excited.”