Chapter 23 #2
“Ollie’s mad as hell. I don’t blame him. Cal’s taking him home.”
I didn’t know why there was a shard of panic cutting through my chest. Or why I released a breath of relief.
“I told him you get overworked and let things in your head get to you. We’re here anyway, and he needs to have a breather too. It’s intense, all this. I get that.”
“What is?” I spat out.
Defensive. Anger. Fear. Fucking fear.
“You and your pathetic fear of people knowing that you like a bit of dick now and then.”
“Fucking hell,” I breathed out, as he chuckled.
“Do you think we don’t know? You told us when we were what…twelve? We were watching some show and Cal said something, and you were so fucking angry with him and we had this big discussion about bisexuality. Honestly, Dad, it was the most embarrassing night of my life.”
“Sorry,” I said. Then grinned weakly. “Not sorry.”
“You’d better not be. It was a good life lesson. I’ve thought a lot about that night. What you said. What I thought about it. I thought it was absolutely disgusting back then.”
“I know you did.”
“But when you’re twelve? Everything is fucking disgusting.”
“Watch your language.”
“Says the man who can’t even admit it out loud.”
“I did! I told you.”
“You did, and then you hated yourself. For years.”
“I didn’t.”
“Dad,” he said sternly. “I’m not a child. And neither is Cal and neither is Ollie. Most of all? Mum was not kidding when she said you were too bloody stubborn to go out and do it.”
“Do exactly what?”
I backed myself up against the wall.
Walls. They were all up again. Protecting myself from…I didn’t know what.
“You’re a forty-five-year-old, bisexual man. You always have been, and you will die that way. Mum knew. She loved you for it. And it’s not like you didn’t explore it. Do you honestly think we don’t know what the two of you were up to? Dad. Come on.”
“I don’t want to…” I defended myself. Shut the fuck up.
“Level with me, Father dearest.” Oh here he went. Adjusting his stance. Stabbing me right where it would hurt.
“Mum’s autobiography sold three million copies worldwide. I still get royalty checks. Remember?”
Don’t. Remind. Me.
“It’s in there. Not all of it, but enough. There are at least three million people who are fully aware that you enjoyed the occasional dalliance with dicks.”
“Oh God, please don’t, Ed.” I curled up. Head on my knees.
“Oh yes. We are going to go there. And Cal? Too angry with me at the moment to join me in this cosy little chat we have going on here, but if he could actually get his head out of his arse and see the truth? He’s got something really good going on at uni.
Really good. He won’t admit it and keeps going looking for girls when I actually don’t think he has any interest in anyone else at all.
He’s spoken for, nailed down, and he knows it. ”
“For heaven’s sake, Ed, can you for once stop outing people! I don’t want to know. La-la-la!” I was covering my ears in desperation.
“Cal is Cal. It’s not like you don’t know, Dad.
It’s not news. And no secrets. I know. Cal knows.
And you, God, Dad. What are you doing to yourself?
You went into this massive depression last time you were into blokes, and then we had to deal with the fallout of Mum’s book.
This time? Right now? You have something good, something really bloody good.
Ollie… He’s great! Don’t you see that? He’s funny and decent, and he lives in fucking Fenchurch Street.
Do you think he’s here hanging out with you for his health?
Because he wants your money? I looked him up; he’s fucking loaded, Dad!
Never needs to work again, if he doesn’t want to.
He’s smart, he’s funny, and he plays football.
And you’re sat here crying in a corner because not only that, but he’s crushing on you harder than a hammer on a nail. ”
“Ed,” I groaned. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t know. Trying to come up with some suitable puns here, but I’m too angry to actually think. You sound so funny when you swear. The fuck, Dad? Sorry, Mum, but he needs to hear it.”
“He’s gone?”
Ed took out his phone. Scrolled in the dim light.
“They’re at Bank. So yeah. Cal’s going to the King’s Arms on the way back.
He’s meeting up with Ali and Bianca. You and I?
We’re going to go down and watch stuff on TV and have a beer.
Because I can’t do this shit. It’s doing my head in.
And you’re going to have a shower. Don’t know what’s up with you, but you stink, Dad.
Change out of those pyjamas before Auntie Patel sees you. Honestly, Dad. This stops now.”
This was when I stood up for myself.
I couldn’t even physically stand myself up. And perhaps, yes. I stank. I needed a bath. I needed to wash my hair and ring Deepak and sort work and get back on the surgery schedule, and I needed to…
“I know things need to change,” I admitted. That was as far as I was able to go. Right now. And still? I couldn’t stop shaking.