Chapter Thirty-eight
Then he dressed, had a shave, and hoped he didn’t look as knackered over WhatsApp as he had in the bathroom mirror.
Finally, he summoned up all his nerve and called his parents on the phone.
Their smiling faces greeted him, his mother in her dressing gown. ‘Wow, Flynn. This is early even for you.’
‘Ha ha. You know I’m used to waking up early.’
‘Not when you were a teenager.’ His mum chuckled. ‘It looks very dark up there.’
‘It is, but it’ll brighten up later and there’s snow on the hills. Where’s Dad?’
‘Steve!’ His mother called, over her shoulder. ‘It’s your son!’
At the mention of that one innocuous word – son – Flynn’s stomach lurched with so many emotions, he could hardly speak.
‘I’m coming.’ His father appeared wearing reindeer antlers with jingly bells on the tips.
‘Morning, Dad,’ said Flynn.
‘Hello. Sorry. I was putting the turkey in. It almost didn’t fit in the oven and we’ll still be eating the damn thing at Easter.’
Flynn smiled as they started to chatter and ask him questions that were easy to answer, yet which only delayed the inevitable.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Yes, the fells are covered in snow. It does look very Christmassy …’ Flynn took a deep breath. ‘Thanks for the vouchers. I opened them this morning. And for the coffee machine. You’ve spoiled me. I’ll bring yours when I see you … yes, I—’
The conversation went on. He smiled and joked, while feeling he was about to burst with the tension of keeping his secret.
Suddenly, there was a loud screeching from somewhere in his parents’ house and his mother said, ‘That’s the smoke alarm. Steve, please don’t tell me you left the grill on. Is that burning bacon I can smell?’
‘Jesus. Yes! I have to go!’ His father jumped up.
‘No!’ Flynn heard himself shout above the shrieking of the alarm. ‘Don’t go. I have something to tell you!’