The Saint Maddox Odyssey

One dish, more than any other, had always been Saint’s favourite, and in his memory, his aunt made it better than his own father ever had.

Which meant it was always the first thing ordered whenever he came back, without fail. This time, despite trying to keep his arrival a surprise, he’d already put the order in by the time anyone noticed him.

”Mum, I’m back!” Right as Saint finished ordering, a cluster of figures came through from the back, his cousin Chloe among them.

Four years apart, and she recognised him instantly all the same, the kind of family resemblance that doesn’t fade with time.

His gaze drifted past her, though, and caught on someone else entirely, a genuinely striking young woman, the sort of face that belonged on a cinema poster rather than walking through a family restaurant.

Every man carries some private list of faces that simply stop him mid-thought. This one belonged squarely on Saint’s.

Eve Lindqvist. He’d caught her in a period drama a while back, some sweeping fantasy serial, playing a character draped entirely in white, and it had been the first time in either of his lives he’d genuinely understood what people meant calling someone otherworldly.

The moment didn’t last, though. Chloe led the whole group through to a private dining room, and by the time she came back out to the front, the goddess had already disappeared from view entirely.

Something close to genuine disappointment settled over Saint, his first real sighting of her in person, and it had lasted all of ten seconds.

For a brief, slightly embarrassing moment, he found himself behaving like any ordinary besotted fan.

His food arrived not long after, pulling his attention back. With the rest of the serving staff tied up elsewhere, it ended up being Chloe herself who brought the tray over.

”Here you go, sir, your order.” Chloe set the plate down without really looking up.

”Cheers.” The moment their eyes actually met, though, Chloe froze slightly, something flickering behind her expression, half recognition, half doubt.

Four years is a long stretch, long enough that neither was entirely sure at first glance, even with a lifetime of family photos between them.

”Mum, that bloke over there, doesn’t he look a bit like my cousin? The one in England?” Chloe went straight back to the counter, genuinely puzzled.

”You daft thing, he doesn’t just look like your cousin, he ’is’ your cousin.” Where Chloe had hesitated, Saint’s aunt had clocked him the instant he walked in.

”Wait, actually?” Chloe still looked unconvinced.

”Of course he is, look at the eyes, spitting image of your uncle,” her mother said, and Saint, overhearing, felt a flush of embarrassment creep up.

”Go tell your dad, he’s through in the kitchen.” With that, she sent Chloe off and made her own way over to Saint’s table.

His uncle’s name was Derek Pryce, no relation to the footballer Villa had just signed, purely coincidence of surname, married into the family through Saint’s aunt, whose own name was Linda.

The moment Linda approached, Saint was already on his feet. ”Auntie...” he called out, a little sheepishly.

”Look at the state of you.” In every memory Saint carried, Linda had always been gentle in exactly this way.

Before she’d even finished the sentence, a stocky, short-haired man in chef’s whites emerged from the kitchen behind her.

”Uncle Derek” Saint’s face lit up properly the moment he spotted him.

”You little sod, not even a phone call to say you were coming.” Derek pulled him straight into a hug.

Outside this one family, Saint genuinely had nobody left, his parents gone young, and Derek’s own bond with Linda’s family ran deep enough that he and Saint’s father had been close as brothers long before either of their children were born.

”Uncle, you’re not too busy for this, are you? And I wasn’t exactly hiding, before you start,” Saint said, though the warmth of the reunion plainly moved him. This man standing in front of him was, in the truest sense, the only family he had left in the world.

Once the hug broke, Saint turned to greet Chloe properly.

”Alright, cousin.” Chloe said it loudly, without a trace of shyness.

She carried a clear resemblance to her mother, though with a brighter, more playful edge to her than Linda had ever had.

”Ahh, my food’s still on the hob!” Derek suddenly remembered himself and bolted back toward the kitchen.

”Uncle, go on, don’t let me be the reason you ruin something and tank the restaurant’s reputation,” Saint called after him, half-laughing.

”You’re not going anywhere till I’m done,” Derek shot back over his shoulder, giving Saint a mock-stern glare on the way.

”Relax, I’m not rushing off anywhere, work’s basically wrapped up for now, I’ve actually got a proper stretch of time off,” Saint said quickly.

Derek had been after him to visit for years, and for four of them, Saint had always had some excuse ready, university, then work, endlessly.

”Chloe, your brother’s not allowed near that door. Tell your dad to break his legs if he tries.” Linda said it with a perfectly straight face.

”Oi...” Saint looked genuinely wounded.

”He’s clearly starving after that flight, let the poor lad eat first,” Linda added, relenting almost immediately.

”Exactly; starving, honestly, couldn’t wait to get back for your cooking,” Saint said, seizing the opening shamelessly.

”Hmph.” Mollified by the flattery, Derek disappeared back into the kitchen looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

”Eat up, don’t let it go cold, we’re mid-service, I can’t stay away from the front for long.” With that, Linda headed back toward the counter.

”Chloe, look after your cousin properly while he eats,” both parents said on their way past, more or less in unison.

”I’m hardly a child, I don’t need minding,” Saint said, mildly exasperated.

”Chloe, you don’t need to go say hello to your friends who came in with you?” Watching his cousin dutifully carry out her parents’ instruction regardless, Saint found himself with little room to argue.

”Nah, Eve’s basically a regular here, doesn’t need the formal treatment,” Chloe said, settling into the seat across from him.

”Oh, so she’s a friend of yours, then?” Saint couldn’t help asking, trying to sound more casual than he felt.

”Yep.” Chloe nodded, a flicker of unmistakable pride crossing her face.

”Since she’s your mate, you should probably go sit with her, you’re practically the host here,” Saint said. Being watched over while he ate wasn’t his favourite sensation, however used to public attention he’d grown back in Birmingham. This was different, this was family, and even after years apart, there was none of the usual distance. If anything, he found himself genuinely enjoying it.

”You’re not trying to get rid of me so you can make a run for it, are you?” Chloe eyed him with open suspicion.

”I literally just got here. Where exactly would I run to? I don’t know another soul in this town besides you lot,” Saint said, exasperated.

”Ha! Whose fault is that for never visiting? Dad’s been moping about you for years,” Chloe said, grinning.

”In my defence, I’ve genuinely had a lot on, studying, then work, back to back,” Saint offered, well aware of how thin the excuse sounded by now.

”Don’t care either way, honestly, Mum and Dad roped me into working the floor today, and I need the money for uni in a couple months anyway.” Chloe had, apparently, picked up shifts purely for the extra cash ahead of starting university.