Family Fun in Cheshire

At Kirmingsham Hall, with Sean's and Becky's permission, Iggy taught his new friend Wesley the wonders of catching fish from the lake. I insisted that they free most of the fish they caught to resume their life in Cheshire waters. Iggy also taught Wesley how to swim: our grandson had never learned due to his hospitalisation. Liz, Becky and I stood watching on the lakeside near to emergency floats, but found them unnecessary.

The little Filipino legally became the adoptive son of Sean and Rachel Casey. His new parents explained his name could be changed by deed poll if he so wished. "Of course, Rachel and Mr Sean, I want to be Casey!" the lad said, jumping up and down. Thus, another Casey joined our circle.

One evening just as Liz, James, Aly, and I were tucking into lasagne, Saul paid us a surprise visit.

"I have bought the house Goliath is renting," he announced, "and I wish to gift it to James and Aly as a late wedding present." To James' and Aly's astonishment, he passed the documents and a key to James. "Goliath and I need to return to Albania to sort out some business matters."

I wondered exactly what those "business matters" were, at the same time unsettled that the brother of a mafia don had bought my son and daughter-in-law a house. I wondered whether Saul's investment might come back to haunt us. James and Aly had been living in Sean's former apartments above the garages while Rachel and Sean were living in the bedsit above his workshop, with Iggy sleeping in the main house.

As Goliath packed that evening, James, Aly, Liz, and I inspected the four-bedroom detached house that Saul had bought, while Saul stood by a radiator.

"Epic," said James, "thanks, Uncle Saul." James shook his hand and Aly kissed him on both cheeks. "When you return to the UK you can move back in if you like," James said to Goliath, who had finished packing. The happy, jubilant man-mountain lifted James and Aly, one in each arm, and twirled them around. Their arms encircled his 26" neck as they bounced on his 58" chest.

"I think that's a yes," Sean said, transfixed by the biceps as huge as a basketball. "That means I can have my attic back and Iggy can move into the workshop."

"Sean's tree house!" Iggy said, as he and Wesley ran into the garage block.

Typically, James and Aly's main concern was the broadband connection, which I immediately organised back at our house over coffee.

Before Iggy started school, Sean and Rachel took him aside in our lounge, with Liz and me as moral support. "We're organising a place for you at the local high school and a home tutor in English for you and Goliath. There's six weeks before school term begins."

The young Filipino resisted. "I need nothing. Sleep, eat, it's enough, no?"

"No it isn't enough, Iggy," Sean said, and Rachel translated. "Like you, I used to live by my wits from the age of five, skirting trouble with the Garda by the skin of my teeth. I spent nights, sometimes weeks away from home, eking out a living where I could. I can teach you some things the school can't, but they can teach you things that I can't. You need both."

"OK, Mr and Mrs Sean. I weel go to school."

Sean said, "God help them."

Attending school proved fraught for Iggy. Mockery he would not accept. There were regular fights in the playground. Coping with the high school curricula, when he had never attended a learning establishment, was massive for the young boy. There were tempers, tears, absences from class, and frequent meetings with teachers.

Sean refused to place his son in a "special needs" learning environment. He and Rachel worked tirelessly with their boy to bring his education to a decent standard. Gradually he settled in and began to learn, and he became popular, remaining fiercely competitive in sports.

I was told that apart from Ignacio "snoring like a hippo" in the workshop bedsit, Sean and Rachel were well settled in Sean's tree house.