Page 49 of People Skills

‘Xavier!’

Xavier and I both jump in fright. It’s Hillary, right behind us.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Xavier says.

‘What are you doing here?’ Hillary asks him.

‘Just getting some coffee.’

‘And what are you going to do with the rest of your day?’ she asks.

There’s an ominous pause.

‘He’s reading Northanger Abbey,’ I say, because something needs to be offered. ‘He is working through all of Jane Austen.’

‘How very…indulgent,’ Hillary says.

‘I’m also going for a surf,’ Xavier says, biting into the sandwich. ‘And I might have a nap later.’ He certainly knows how to piss his mother off.

‘At least you’re showered and dressed,’ she sighs.

‘I haven’t actually showered yet,’ Xavier says.

She ignores this.

‘Well, Charlotte and I have a busy day of work,’ she says pointedly.

‘Have fun,’ Xavier says. He’s propped on the bench seat on the side wall, and he looks so relaxed. I can tell Hillary’s brain is fizzing with irritation.

‘Your coffee,’ Darius says, walking around the counter and bringing it over to Hillary. She’s the only person he walks around the counter for, everyone else gets the slide-across.

‘Goodbye, Xavier,’ Hillary says, and I follow her out of the coffee shop and up the staircase.

I can tell by the way she’s walking up the stairs, her loafers hitting each step too firmly, she has a rant building.

As soon as we are in the office, and I start turning on lights and the air conditioning and computers, she starts talking.

‘He can’t just sit around reading Jane Austen all summer,’ she says. ‘That’s sickening.’

I want to say that it’s infinitely better than going down YouTube rabbit holes. A week ago, she thought he might be red-pilled into hating women. Now he’s reading romantic classics! I’m making amazing progress here.

‘It’s step one. He’ll be writing soon,’ I assure her. I do not believe this at all, but I’m in too deep now.

‘Men don’t do well with free time,’ she says. ‘It’s not good for their psyche. They need a purpose, they need action.’

‘He’s exercising and reading and sleeping. He’s doing my program. He has purpose,’ I assure her. ‘I’ve given him lots to do. He has a research project.’ I momentarily forget that I am the subject of that research project, and I pray Hillary doesn’t ask what it’s about.

She purses her lips. ‘I’ve been in touch with Lana,’ she says.

‘You have?’

‘I reached out after I read her essay.’

So she read the essay. Of course she did. I hadn’t brought it up in the hope she hadn’t.

‘What did you say?’ I ask.

‘Just a little text. I wanted to make sure she was okay. You know, her mother is very controlling, she doesn’t have a warm maternal figure in her life to give her appropriate support.’