8.

‘I Darren Stanley Hayes…’

‘Mum says the cake is nearly ready and do we want her to put figurines on the top?’

‘No!’

‘Darren thinks maybe not Mum.’

‘Take you Daniel Jones…’

‘Doorbell Doze.’

‘Yes I can still hear thank you.’

‘So answer it then arsehole.’

‘To have and to hold…’

‘Darren!’

‘I’m going, I’m going.’

Grumbling at Daniel’s insistence and then wincing at the pain, Darren used his crutch to lever himself up off of the sofa and lurch down the hallway.

Opening the front door he saw a large bushy Christmas tree, then a face appeared from behind it.

‘Delivery for Hayes?’

‘Dannnnielllllll.’

‘Gotta go Mum, speak to you later.’

Daniel came out from the kitchen. ‘Hi ya.’ He greeted the guy from the nursery.

‘Where’d you want it mate?’

Daniel ushered him in and showed him the space that he had deliberately cleared down one end of the living room.

‘Cheers.’ He signed the delivery note and gave the guy $10 dollar tip.

‘What the fuck is that Daniel?’ Darren enquired when Dan came back from showing the guy out.

‘Well last time I looked it was called a Christmas Tree.’ He came to stand behind Darren, hugging him close.

‘I know that wise guy but what the bloody hell is it doing in our front room?’

‘It may have escaped your notice but it is only five weeks until Christmas.’

‘Dan.’ Darren rested his head in the crook of Daniel’s neck.

‘I know baby, I know.’ Daniel softly kissed the cotton fabric of Darren’s bandanna. ‘I thought we could celebrate it early, like, say, next weekend?’

Darren turned in Daniel’s arms lifting his face for a kiss. ‘Thank you.’

‘Want to help me decorate it?’ Easing Darren back onto the sofa, Daniel reached behind one of their armchairs and pulled out two bags bursting with baubles, tinsels and other tree paraphernalia.

‘And just when did you get that little lot?’

‘The other day whilst you were in with Dr Walker. I actually rung him beforehand and asked him to keep you busy.’

‘I thought he was more thorough then he even usually is. You bastard.’

Dan grinned. Pulling out a strand of red and gold tinsel he draped it around Darren’s neck like a boa.

‘Hey I thought the idea was to decorate the tree not me.’ Darren laughed and used his crutch to hook Dan down to him.

‘Ah but it looks so much better on you.’ Daniel told him as he surrendered his lips to Darren’s.

Later that evening they were both curled up on the sofa, admiring their handiwork.

‘Dan?’

‘Yes baby?’

‘I want to talk to you about my funeral.’

Daniel took a deep breath, he knew this conversation was going to come sooner or later.

‘Ok. Want me to fetch a notebook?’

Darren nodded and Daniel eased himself out from under him to go and get a notepad and pen.

He sat himself on the floor beside the sofa and wrote as Darren dictated.

‘First off, no black. I don’t want anyone to wear black. I want my funeral to be a happy occasion.’

‘Music?’

‘With or Without You.’

Daniel felt a cold shiver run the length of his spine, it was one of their favourite tracks, but wordlessly he took down all of Darren’s instructions. He had obviously given the matter great thought as he had it planned right down to the last detail.

‘And Dan…’

‘Yes?’ Daniel put down his pen and taking the hand that Darren was reaching down to him kissed the fingers tenderly.

Darren sighed and motioned for him to join him back on the sofa. When he was back in Daniel’s arms again he continued.

‘When I’m gone. I don’t want you to be sad. I want you to remember all the good times that we’ve had together…’

‘Always my darling, always.’

Darren silenced him with a finger to his lips, he hadn’t finished.

‘And if you meet someone else I don’t want you to feel guilty about loving them, it doesn’t mean that you love me any less. I just want you to be happy…’

Dan’s arms tightened around Darren.

‘…I want you to live the rest of your life, don’t you dare think of coming after me, but know that when your time does come I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll be there for you, watching over you and waiting and when that day arrives I’ll come for you myself my love.’

Daniel felt his throat tighten. How could he respond to that?

It was then that it hit him, as he glanced up at the Christmas tree and then back down at the man laying in his arms.

Five weeks to Christmas. Five weeks until their wedding. Five weeks until he was going to do the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life.