“You’ve been before?”
“A couple of times.”
“And how was it?”
I open my mouth to give him the usual sop about what a beautiful place it is, but instead, what comes out is, “Like a nightmare.”
“Why?” he asks steadily, his face unusually inscrutable.
“Beautiful and yet terrible. Filled with the highs of human warmth and yet also the terrible coldness of their behaviour.” I force a smile. “Nought out of ten for an experience. Highly don’t recommend it to you.”
He shrugs. “Ah, I get lost far too easily. If I tried to get there, I’d end up in Skegness. Not to mention catching a plane on time gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
I’m so fascinated with him, it’s ridiculous. “Why do you think that is?”
“Well, my therapist says it’s a desire to fulfil my grandparents’ expectations of manners that wars with my own chaotic nature.” He shrugs. “I don’t know. I just know I want to be late and don’t manage it very often. I’m always horribly on time. Does that sound weird?”
“Not really. Your therapist might be right.”
“Don’t get used to the idea. Last week, she said I had the potential to be a leader.”
“Good god, what a trulyhorrendousthought. It would be like mixing Napoleon with one of the Teletubbies.” He laughs, and his face is so full of life. The last time I looked that vibrant was probably the Jurassic era. “Does your therapist help you?”
“Nope. But seeing her was something the school demanded after they expelled me.”
“You got expelled?”
He winks. “Twice, but who’s counting?”
“Well, it sort of sounds like the school was.”
“Bah. Boring.” His grin turns wicked as I laugh. “When shall I break that one to Daddy Dearest?” I sigh, and his grin widens.
“Maybe stop trying to wind him up. You could try to get to know him instead. The real him.”
“And is that the one you know, or the shitty person I’ve been introduced to?”
“You’re not seeing him at his best.”
“I bet.”
“Maybe it would help if you take the view that this trip is an olive branch from him to you,” I say tentatively.
His lips thin. “Oh yes, theolivebranch.”
“I know you didn’t start off right. Not after he asked for the blood test,” I say quickly.
He cocks his head. “That’s where you think we started?”
I hesitate. “Well, yes, of course. When he found out about you.”
He laughs, but when he’s over the hilarity, he shoots me one of his clear, searching glances. “Reuben, he’s known about me all my life.”
“What?”
He straightens. “Wait. You really didn’t know?”
“No, of course not.” I shake my head. My stomach is churning. “That can’t be true.”
