46. Sloane
Sloane
The rest of the weekend flies by, and before I know it we’re parting ways at London Bridge to go home to our respective flats.
Freddie outdid himself. Sunday involved drag queen brunch followed by an afternoon exploring an exhibition by one of Cole’s favourite artists, so the birthday boy was thoroughly spoiled.
Though I don’t think anything will quite top Saturday night.
Watching Cole and Freddie take that massive step in their relationship was as moving as it was scorching hot.
My boyfriends are boyfriends and I couldn’t be happier.
As I wave them both off, I feel a pang of sadness that the weekend is over. The train ride back to Bermondsey is short and sweet, and by the time I turn my key in the lock, my mind is made up. I’m going to be brave and tell Freddie and Cole how I feel.
In four to six weeks maybe.
Once I’ve figured out how to get out from under my father’s financial thumb.
As if my thoughts have summoned him, an email pings into my inbox from Quentin’s PA. Poor Margaret is working on a Sunday night. My heart sinks as I read the message, then I immediately pull my phone out of my pocket to message the boys.
SOS. My dad’s PA has messaged about having lunch with him. The message says, “bring your boyfriend.”
FREDDIE
I volunteer as tribute.
Ha bloody ha.
FREDDIE
OK, I have an idea. You bring your boyfriend and I’ll bring mine.
The thing is, I do want to bring both of you. Is that mental?
COLE
I’ll do whatever you like, firecracker.
FREDDIE
Might be fun to both rock up and give dear old dad a bit of a surprise.
He’s refused to even acknowledge my pansexuality – I think polyamory might actually cause him to have an aneurysm. Which means we should definitely do it.
FREDDIE
Dark. I love it. I’m game – just tell me a time and a place.
COLE
You sure you want the aggro? We don’t need his approval.
I know, but I’m done pretending to be something I’m not just because he pays for… everything.
FREDDIE
Not for long. We’re going to find you an amazing job as soon as you’re finished your master’s. And if he kicks you out, you can come live in sin in Shad Thames.
Ha, thanks Freddie. Don’t think your little apartment is ready for the contents of my bedside table.
FREDDIE
All it’s missing is pineapple sex lube from what I understand. And maybe one of the tentacles we saw in Brighton.
COLE
FFS.
Wait, what tentacle??
I laugh to myself as I flop back on the sofa. If I take both the boys, I’m showing my dad exactly who I am. I can give him the chance to get to know me or to walk away from me.
What’s the worst that could happen?
My father has once again picked an uptight restaurant in a snooty part of London for our regular lunch-under-duress.
I’m waiting outside when the boys appear, rounding a corner together as they chat, Freddie’s laugh carrying from several yards away. I beam when I clock that they’re holding hands.
They both smile as they see me, Freddie pulling me into an immediate and lasting hug while Cole waits patiently for his turn. He cups my cheek as he pulls away, his warm brown eyes meeting mine. I always feel calmer in Cole’s company. He’s grounding like that.
“You ready for this?” I ask, looking between them.
“Not remotely,” replies Freddie cheerfully.
“’Least we’re in it together,” Cole adds.
“I rang the restaurant yesterday and asked them to add another person to our reservation,” I say as I push open the door. “So at least there won’t be any awkwardness over the table.”
A woman in a waistcoat immediately offers to take our coats, and we are shown to our table in the very centre of the restaurant. Thankfully, we’ve beaten my dad here, which means I’ve got a moment to compose myself before he arrives.
I know that introducing him to both the boys isn’t likely to go down well, but I’m sticking to my guns. If he wants a relationship with me, he can take me as I come.
We get settled in our seats and then he appears. His face is set in a scowl as the waitress leads him over to our table. His brow draws down in confusion as he spots both the boys, and he stops short at the table.
“What’s going on here? I told you to bring your new boyfriend, not a harem.”
Cole stands, ignoring my dad’s rudeness, and holds out his hand. “Cole Avery,” he says, shaking my dad’s hand, though my dad’s gaze is stuck on Freddie, confusion clouding his features.
“Frederick, what the fuck are you doing here? This is a family lunch with my daughter. Has Margaret screwed up my diary again? I will fire that old sow.”
I look at Freddie in surprise and watch as every bit of colour drains out of his face. My mouth pops open as the dots start to connect.
Freddie stands slowly as if in a trance, holding out his hand.
“Mr Reed,” he says, in a slightly strangled voice. “I’m actually your daughter’s boyfriend.”
For a moment, no one says anything. We are all caught in a staring standoff and no one has even sat down yet.
“You’re her boyfriend? Then who’s this?” He gestures at Cole.
“He’s my other boyfriend,” I supply.
Quentin’s face starts to turn purple. “What are you talking about?”
“You know I’ve always said I was pansexual? Well, I’m also polyamorous. The three of us are in a relationship.”
He blinks rapidly, like a dog trying to do maths.
“Is this a joke?”
“No, Quentin, it’s not a joke. Margaret said in her email to bring my new boyfriend. She didn’t say which one.”
His face descends into a more violent shade of purple.
“Are you trying to make a fool of me, child?”
“No… my relationship is really nothing to do with you.”
“Grow up, Sloane. I know you’re only doing this to make some sort of political point. You’ve made it. Now stop this ridiculous pantomime.”
“It’s not a pantomime,” I say, as mildly as I can as my blood pressure rises. “You wanted to meet the person I’m in a relationship with – presumably to vet them before the wedding? Well, here we are. This is my relationship.”
“Sit down,” he hisses, as he takes a seat. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“I think the only person who’s embarrassed here is you, Dad .” We all sit down and Freddie offers my dad a menu, which he ignores.
“What about Frederick here? He’s got a big job at a fancy firm.
A fancy firm that works with all the biggest players in the city.
What does his employer think of this unnatural arrangement?
” He glares at me, and for a moment I feel a flash of fear.
I don’t mind going toe-to-toe with him, but Freddie’s got more to lose.
I suddenly think back to every single comment Freddie’s made about his new dickhead client. My dad’s account with his firm is probably worth millions. He can’t lose his job over me.
But Freddie speaks up before I do.
“With all due respect, Mr Reed, my relationship is none of my employer’s business.”
“Do you know that all the contracts you sign have a morality clause? That means if either party behaves in such a way as to cause embarrassment to the other, contracts can be broken? And broken contracts mean big losses, Frederick.”
He leans back with a smug smile. He might as well have said, “Checkmate” at the end.
I can see Freddie’s brain working at a hundred miles per hour, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Mr Reed, we are all adults,” Cole interjects, his tone light and measured. “None of us seeks your blessing or your approval. The reality is this: the three of us make each other very happy. I know it’s unconventional, but that doesn’t make it wrong.”
“Well, you definitely don’t have my blessing, or my approval for this pathetic charade.
I’m not going to sit here and be humiliated by you, child.
Just remember that our arrangement can come to a very swift end.
You will bring one person to the wedding.
You will show up on time, wearing the dress that Aggie chose for you.
And you will not speak to me ever again about polymorphory. ”
He stands up, looks down at us all, then storms out. There’s a brief pause before I burst into laughter.
“Polymorphory!” I repeat, creasing up.
“Your arsehole client, I assume?” Cole says to Freddie.
“The very same. Shit, I thought I was going to faint when I saw his face. What are the odds?”
“I imagine they’re actually quite favourable given you seem to work exclusively with ultra-rich twats,” I say with a shrug. “Throw enough shit in this town and you hit a man like Quentin. Are you ok? What do you want to do?”
He sighs. “I can talk to Harry about it. Hopefully, they were just empty threats, but I’ll feel better once I’ve warned him, just in case Quentin does do something rash.
” He frowns and scrubs a hand over his face.
“I don’t want to worry about it right now.
Shall we get the fuck out of here and go find something greasy to eat? ”
“Fuck yes,” I agree as Freddie stands, pulling me out of my chair, before extending a hand to Cole. We weave our way out of the restaurant, apologising to the staff as we make our escape.
Forty minutes later, we’re in Soho and the biggest burgers I’ve ever seen have just been laid in front of us.
“What are you going to do about the wedding, then?” Cole asks, taking a huge bite of burger and closing his eyes in bliss.
“I don’t know,” I say, shoulders slumping. “His fiancée has picked out the most hideous beige dress for me. I’d honestly rather go alone than force either of you to endure it. It will be a pompous festival of kiss-assery populated by London’s most insufferable snobs.”
“Sounds like there will be free champagne at least,” says Freddie, always finding the silver lining.
“Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends, right?”
“Did you just quote Fall Out Boy, princess?”
“Maybe,” I grin. He snorts a laugh.
“Well, you know that we are here for you, firecracker. However you need, whatever you need. You want us to show up in matching tuxedos with coordinating pocket squares? We’re there.
You want just one of us to escort you? Pick one.
You want to fly solo? It’s your call. We’re here.
” Cole squeezes my knee under the table.
“We’re all in,” says Freddie, glancing at Cole with a grin.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m really lucky to have you both.”
“And we are lucky to have you,” replies Freddie, leaning over to steal some of my fries.
We spend the rest of the afternoon pottering around London together, visiting the gallery that Jessie’s friend Francesco runs, stopping for cake, and generally enjoying each other’s company. It’s only on the tube ride home that Quentin’s words echo around my head again.
He threatened Freddie’s job.
We can all pretend he didn’t, but I can’t help this niggling fear that his words are going to unpick this beautiful thing at the seams.
The following morning, Emmy invites me for coffee and doughnuts in Borough Market. She gives me a warm hug, pulling me tightly against her for a beat longer than usual. I sense what’s coming before she says it.
“I feel like I hardly see you at the moment,” she says, a bittersweet expression on her face.
“I know. We’re like ships in the night these days,” I reply, bracing myself. She buys me an enormous doughnut and we wander down to the river, finding a seat on a bench next to the water. She turns to face me but I beat her to the punch: “You’re moving out, aren’t you?”
Her mouth pops open in surprise and her eyes fill with tears.
“Yes,” she says, biting her lip. “I’m moving in with Luke. He asked me to a few months ago, but I didn’t want to leave. I love living with you.” She gives a big sniff.
“It’s ok, Em,” I reply, throwing my arm around her. “You’re all grown up now. You’re allowed to fly the nest.”
We sit there for a bit, arms around each other. She rests her head on my shoulder as we watch the world go by. Then she pulls back slightly and gives me a tear-stained smile. “You saved me, you know that?”
“Oh, hush, you, you saved yourself.”
“No, I mean it. I was so broken the night we met, and you invited me into your life so easily, with such an open heart. You let me move in when you hardly knew me. You picked me up off the ground twice when I got my heart stomped on. You saved me.”
I smile at her and there is nothing but joy in my heart for my beautiful friend who lives her life so truthfully. Not like me.
“Emmeline, you listen to me. You would have done all of that with or without me. And while it is a tragedy for womankind that you are such a diehard hetero, it’s a joy and a privilege to be your friend.”
She throws her arms around me this time and buries her face in my neck. I grip on to my doughnut for dear life as I pat her back and make soothing noises into her hair.
“Hey, are you ok? You do actually want to move in with Daddy Dom, right?”
She laughs. “He hates that you call him that,” she says, wiping away a tear. “But yes, I do. I already spend so much time there anyway. But I’m going to miss this so much.”
“We might actually see each other more now anyway. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t be rid of me that easily. We’ll just have to pre-plan all our doughnut trips and coffee catch-ups.”
She sniffs again and nods.
“How are your boyfriends?” She changes the subject, biting into her doughnut.
“Well, my boyfriends are now boyfriends,” I reply with a shameless grin as her eyebrows fly into her hairline.
“I thought Freddie was straight?”
“So did Freddie,” I shrug. “Sexuality is a funky spectrum, eh?”
“It sounds… hot.”
“Oh, it is,” I give her a dreamy smile. “It’s really fucking hot.”
“And is it serious between you all?”
I pause. I want to say yes. I want to shout it from the rooftops. But there is something I don’t really want to name holding me back. My inner psychologist is probably sat on a sofa with popcorn right now.
“We'll see,” is all I offer back, though I say it with a smile.
The truth is, I know exactly what I want. And it terrifies me.
Because my love for them might feel like a helium balloon inside my chest – but what could it cost Freddie?