Chapter 7
SEVEN
As much as Charles dreads social events at home, the impromptu gathering happening tonight has been easy to handle.
An Austrian couple, who he’s meant to remember from one encounter a decade ago, is the centre of attention.
The neighbours, invited by Alice to show off to about keeping company with Austrian nobility, are busy strutting their stuff.
And Charles’ parents are too focused on ensuring the smooth running of the evening to worry about their son making a good impression.
He’s making the best impression regardless. It’s simpler when he’s certain he won’t be singled out and grilled about topics that complicate his digestion. The part of the enthusiastic spectator suits him.
After dinner, they settle in the lounge for tea and whisky. Charles worries when the guests split into small groups to engage in more personal conversations, but Elsy allows him to just keep on nodding along next to her.
She’s entertaining the woman from across the street with tales of juicy trysts, stolen from various Netflix shows. It’s far-fetched, but the woman was gagging for an episode of Kate and William of Hampstead, and she buys it all.
When she steps away to join her husband, Elsy drops her charming act and doubles over.
‘I’m properly dying now.’
‘Show it. That’ll be our way out.’
‘You think?’
‘My mother is many things, but she’s not sadistic.’
Elsy moans and drags herself towards the couch. Alice isn’t paying any attention to them at the moment, but she will eventually scan the room and notice Elsy’s poor form.
Charles’ phone vibrates against his thigh. He tilts half of the screen out of his trousers pocket, but before he can display the photo sent by Loris, a firm hand grips his shoulder.
‘Charles Ledwell!’ Herr Reinhard Heidenreich knocks their glasses together. ‘What a fine young man you’ve grown up to be.’
‘Thank you, Sir.’
‘I would love for you to meet my granddaughter. You have to pay us a visit.’
Reinhard squeezes Charles’ shoulder again, winking and grinning, evidently unmoved by the plot of Kate and William of Hampstead.
‘I’ll contact you if I ever find the time to come to your beautiful country.’
‘Naturally, I heard you will have your hands full. Congratulations on your MBA admittance.’
‘It’s not official yet…’
Charles gives the man a tense smile and steps back, to escape the conversation and a third shoulder squeeze.
‘Your brother would be really proud of you.’
Reinhard shifts in front of a painting, and Charles freezes.
The comment is a heartfelt platitude, one he’s acted appreciative of countless times, so their guests would feel good when he felt nothing. But tonight, it strikes an unpleasant chord and gets up his nose.
‘What for?’
‘Pardon me?’
‘What part of the fine young man I’ve grown up to be would make Frederick proud? If we’re being honest?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘My friend!’ Milton brandishes a decanter as if it were a sports trophy. ‘You must give this one a taste!’
‘I’m licking my lips!’
Reinhard edges towards the bottle display, casting puzzled glances at Charles who, not sure of what he meant either, pivots to meet his brother’s fixed eyes in the portrait. So serious. So staid. Reinhard is right. This guy would be proud. But this guy isn’t Fred.
Charles takes his phone and opens Loris’ photo message, to peel back irksome thoughts he can’t afford to dive into now.
20:46 WITH ONE L This is how I left it before my shift
Charles zooms in on the completed pieces of mirror in the drawing. ‘Holy shit, this is insane.’
Loris has given so much texture and movement to his hair, Charles can feel the wind brushing his forehead.
But what astounds him the most is how right Loris got his eyes, from memory only.
Their limbal rings, the hazel sprays encircling his pupils and the blend of blue and green, whose dominant hue changes with the light.
‘What is insane enough for you to make such foul use of your mouth?’
Charles spins around to find his mother’s eyes – similar to his own, but darker at the moment.
‘It’s… George. Some investor made an exorbitant offer.’
‘Does that call for swearing?’
‘No. I apologise.’
‘But good for him.’
Alice’s right nostril twitches, like it does whenever she thinks about George Downes, Starbucks beverages, Top Chef or any topic she’s shamefully torn about.
She would prefer to ban them from her life.
But Top Chef is entertaining. Toffee nut lattes are tasty.
George is bound to go places and remain useful to Charles.
The Ledwells didn’t plan to condone a kid with a controversial family and questionable attitude in their son’s life.
They had no control over their developing bond at school, but they limited the time they spent together outside, ready to take action when Charles would be old enough to understand what was expected of him.
But after tragedy struck and Fred passed away, George took on a task that Milton and Alice were incapable of carrying out themselves. He proved to be the emotional rock Charles needed, so they came to terms with his choice of a best friend and never actively attempted to keep them apart.
‘What is the matter with Elsy?’
‘She doesn’t feel well. She’s cramping. You know…’
‘Take her upstairs. She should be lying down, poor thing. Thank you very much for tonight, Charles.’ Alice kisses his temple. ‘You were delightful.’
In the hallway, Elsy takes off her heels with a rain of swear words that would have made Alice pass out. Charles rubs his cheeks, grossed out by the prints of tea-flavoured lips, and hastens to unlock his phone to reply to Loris.
20:57 Insane.
20:57 How is the reading going?
‘Texting the Austrian princess you’ll dump me for?’
‘You heard that?’
‘I’m bracing myself to leave the Great Wall of Ledwell Narcissism.’
Elsy gestures at the photos hung alongside the staircase bannister.
A collection Charles notices every time it’s rearranged but stops seeing as soon as he’s used to the new layout.
Elsy has made it into several photos over the years.
The latest is a candid shot of the two of them, taken five months ago at the Buchanan’s annual garden party.
Charles slows down in front of the next frame.
Frederick and Heloise – daughter of family friends – looking royal and infatuated. The original Kate and William of Hampstead.
Heloise deserves a spot on the wall, she was Fred’s girlfriend. He was so in love with her.
Was he, though?
Wasn’t he in love with George’s sister, despite the Ledwells’ active attempts at keeping them apart?
For a fleeting moment, Charles pictures it vividly.
Fred, dancing with Liv Downes in the driveway, their eyes locked, their smiles offering silent promises.
But the footage is already flickering, the vision recedes, and Charles’ head starts spinning so fast, he clasps the handrail.
‘I leave you to the handsome sight of yourself, I have a date with your bathroom.’
‘I’m… I’m coming.’
He hacks the skin of his thumb apart and counts to six. He’s so confused, he feels helpless. Then to twelve. He’s so helpless, he feels nauseous.
Eighteen. Twenty-four. Thirty.
His phone vibrates again.
Charles collects the shoes and cardigan dropped by Elsy on her way to the bathroom. His room was spotless, and he’s in dire need of control. He swaps his dinner clothes for a clean t-shirt and falls onto his bed with his phone, his pen and a splitting headache.
21:00 WITH ONE L I’m not reading because I want to renegotiate the deal
When it comes to control, this is a step back, yet the spinning slows down. Unlike his brother’s past, this is a mystery Charles can solve.
21:05 Renegotiate how?
He opens one of his comfort playlists – made of songs from artists with alliterative names – and decides to shuffle it. A bit of music suspense will fit the mood considering he has no clue what to expect from Loris. An acceptable condition? A worthless bargaining chip? An outrageous—
A voice note.
Charles turns his Bluetooth back off before hitting play, to prevent the message blasting from all speakers.
‘Hey! Sorry, I’m too lazy to type. So, I came up with a new concept for another drawing, and I’d like you to pose for me.
For real this time. What do you think? My shift starts at four on Saturday if you’re free before that and up for it.
But if it’s too weird, no worries, I’m gonna find another way to renegotiate, because as things stand you’ve got nothing to do. Let me know! Hi, Sir, what can I get—’
Charles rolls on his back and returns to the main menu of his music application to select a recommended unknown playlist, because even the messier shuffle of his saved songs wouldn’t match the impending mind storm.
It is weird, yes, but what’s weird is that he’s not floundering for a way to express an outright refusal.
He should be racking his diplomatic brain.
Or straight up play his secret Olwinski card to regain the upper hand.
Or give up on changing Loris’ entrenched opinion on the book.
He should, but somehow the prospect of posing for Loris isn’t nerve-wracking. It’s… exhilarating.
What’s happening? Have the magnetic poles shifted in Charland, that he mistakes anxiety for thrill?
‘Stab me…’ Elsy comes to curl up in a ball against Charles. ‘What are you ceiling-staring over? Distract me from the aliens fighting with lasers swords inside me.’
‘I was wondering if… If I were a good painter, would you pose for me?’
‘I’m bloated and disgusting.’
‘Not now. In general?’
Elsy shakes her head, entangling her hair in Charles’ stubble. ‘Posing sessions are always a nightmare. Catriona blows a fuse whenever I blink.’
‘I’d make it less strict, more fun.’
‘I can’t see any fun in that. Unless it’s something you actually want to do? Then of course, I’d—’
‘I don’t. I was just curious if you’d find the idea weird?’
‘Weird, no, but tiresome. Can we Netflix? I need inspiration for my next conversation with our fans.’
Charles hands her the remotes. ‘Do you mind waiting until the end of the song?’
‘Who do you take me for?’
He smiles and reopens his chat with Loris, where he brushes the keyboard without typing. Posing in the flat wouldn’t be tiresome. But it would inevitably make it harder to hide what he’s made of.
‘What’s wrong?’ Elsy wraps her hand around Charles’ fist that’s wrapped around his pen. ‘Chips?’
‘It’s just… those evenings. They take a toll.’
‘Do you need a whisky? A massage? A blowjob?’
‘I appreciate the offer, given how shitty you feel, but I’m alright.’
What Charles needs is an unexpected challenge, in a place where his mind isn’t polluted with falsehood. Where his memories of Fred have room to grow and stick.
21:17 Deal. Start reading.
Elsy selects a random episode of The Walking Dead. ‘Perfect!’
‘That’s your inspiration for our love life?’
‘I want something that matches the state of my uterus. Kate and William versus the walking dead of Hampstead, action!’
Laughing, Charles displays the new photo Loris just sent.
A shot of his hand holding The Mind of Wonders in front of the beer taps in the pub. Loris used the drawing tools of his phone to add a pair of heart-shaped tinted glasses across the cover.
Charles saves the photo on his device.
And inside his chest, he saves the vision of Loris reading his favourite book in the North Haven.