I walk into my parents’ home in Belgravia, unannounced. It’s after dinner, but there’s always dinner here. Mum’s a chronic over-caterer who’s in denial that Henry and I don’t live here anymore. Sometimes we do. Each have our own places now, but sometimes it’s nice to come home.
I walk into the kitchen and my mum looks up from the sink, her face lighting up.
“Sweetheart, you’re here!” She pulls off a rubber glove. “Darling!” she calls out to my dad. “BJ’s here!”
There’s a vague rumble of response from my dad and my mum wraps her arms around me.
“Hungry?”
I nod. “Starved.”
I perch up on the marble counter that’s covered in cleaning shit—I don’t know why—we’ve always had a cleaner but Mum just runs around pre-cleaning before the cleaner gets here. Bit redundant, Dad hates it but he loves Mum, and she’ll never fire Nel. Will pay an annual salary to sit and have tea and biscuits 3 days a week with her though.
She fixes me a plate with too much food. Two different kinds of meat (chicken and steak), four kinds of carbohydrates and some broccoli, all slathered in her gravy and it’s way too much food and I eat all of it in under five minutes.
She’s sitting there, chin in hand, watching me pleasantly.
“And to what do we owe the pleasure this evening?”
I sniff a laugh. “Can’t a lad just come and visit his mum for no reason?”
“A lad can, but alas, my lads do not.” She gives me a look. “Henry’s upstairs.” She nods in the direction. “What’s going on with him and Jo?”
I give her a look. “How do you know something’s going on with Jonah?”
Her eyes pinch. “Because nothing ever goes on between him and Christian and if it was between him and you, I’d know about it.”
Annoyingly observant, she is.
I squint over at her. “Into the same girl.”
“Ah,” she says. “Is she a goodie?”
I nod. “Yeah, she’s sick—”
She pours me some wine. Pours herself a bigger glass.
“And you, my darling?” She tilts her head. “What have you come here to tell me?”
I take a drink, say nothing just to annoy her.
She frowns. “Good news or bad news?”
I take another drink, smirking.
“BJ!” she scolds me.
And I stand and carry my plate back to the kitchen, rinsing it off in the sink. She scurries after me, yelling my full name—she plucks the plate from my hands, rewashing it herself before putting it in the dishwasher.
She turns, hands on her hips.
“Baxter James Ballentine—”
I spread my arms out wide and lay my torso down on the marble island in the middle of her kitchen, grinning up at her.
“What?” She frowns.
“Parks and I had sex.”
A small scream escapes her mouth as she claps her hands over it. Would I ever tell my mum I had sex with anyone else? Nope. Never. Never in a billion years, but that outburst is the reaction it deserved, and I wanted it, so I told her.
She rushes towards me, shaking my shoulders.
“Oh my god!” Shakes me again. “Hamish! Oh my god—”
Dad rushes in.
“What’s going on?”
“BJ and Magnolia are back together,” she practically squeals.
I give Dad a wide-eyed, amused look and his face cracks a smile. “Really?”
I nod.
He squints at me suspiciously. “Does she know you think you’re back together?”
“They had sex!” Mum yells.
And Dad and I both give her a weird look.
And then her face turns to a scowl. “—For the first time ever, I assume. Because until this moment you were a virgin.”
I shake my head once. “—Wasn’t.”
“And she’s the only girl you’ve ever been with.”
“—She’s not,” my dad tells her.
She scowls at him, then looks at me. “And will be with…”
I smile at her. Here’s hoping, Lil.
“You were safe, yes?” She nods to herself.
“Mum.” I roll my eyes.
Henry walks into the room. “Mum, they’ve been having sex since they were—” I throw a dishtowel at him. He laughs.
“—twenty-three and twenty-four respectively,” she tells Henry with the utmost conviction.
“Lil”—Dad shakes his head—“you walked in on them at the chalet.”
“Did not.” She shakes her head vehemently.
Did, definitely did. Could have died—most embarrassing day of my life. Parks was seventeen, I was nineteen. Mum was… mortified… apparently to the point of total denial.
“Oy,” Henry says, nodding his chin at me. “How was that work thing, Beej?”
I smirk. “Good.”
My brother chuckles. “I bet it was—”
My dad walks over, looks at me for a few seconds, then hugs me.
“I’m glad for you.”
There’s a champagne pop—Mum’s grinning in the corner.
I glance between my dad and my brother. “This feels embarrassing.”
“It’s not,” she sings.
“Sorry,” my dad says. “Is that my 2002 Dom—?”
Mum shrugs. “It’s the occasion for it—”
Dad considers. “Is it?”
Henry starts laughing.
Dad begrudgingly gets out some glasses and Henry comes over to me, smacking me fondly in the face.
“This legit?” I nod. “Bro,” Henry says and hugs me. “Fuck me, that was a long drive—”
“Henry.” Our mother shakes her head. “That language isn’t going to win you the girl you like—”
Henry gives me an exasperated look and hits me in the stomach.
I flinch in a tiny bit of pain but mostly I’m laughing.
“She forced it out of me.” I shrug, helpless.
Henry points to me. “He and Parks did it on Dad’s company plane on the way to Monte Carlo when he was sixteen.”
Mum’s jaw drops. I grimace.
“Highly premeditated—” My traitor-brother continues. “They planned it for days.”
“Henry!” I yell.
I glance at Dad, nervous. Like I could get in shit for something I did nearly nine years ago.
Dad starts laughing.
“Twice.” Henry shrugs, drinking his champagne, walking out of the room.
