‘If we get the rental car at nine tomorrow, at what time can we be in the bathtub?’
‘It’s a four-hour drive, but I was hoping to make a few stops along the coast.’
Charles frowns. ‘I didn’t sign up for that.’
Loris smiles and drops his arm from around Charles’ shoulders as they pass underneath a street lamp. A woman is staring at them from the opposite pavement.
‘The weather’s gonna be crap on Sunday, we can stay indoors then.’
Charles tugs Loris back closer, not caring one bit about his neighbour and what she could report to his parents. ‘Fine. But I want to make out near a cliff edge.’
‘Near a cliff edge?’
‘Yes, close enough to— Damn it.’
Charles sighs and gestures at the obvious signs of life in his house to answer Loris’ questioning look.
‘Maybe it’s Clare?’
‘Not in my father’s study, no.’
Charles opens the gate, his cliff scenario receding.
Why do his parents send him the schedule of events they would likehim to attend with them if they don’t stick to it?
‘You want me to wait outside?’
‘You’d freeze to death. I’m terrible at packing, I might need three hours. No, it’s fine. He’s probably busy working, and I’ve been in his good graces since he had lunch with my boss. As for my dear mother, she’s elected to avoid conversations after my breakup with Elsy.’
‘But if anyone asks, I’m here for art reasons?’
‘Yes. I’d enjoy seeing their faces if they knew what we did intheirbathtub, but not on the eve of our weekend.’
‘Agreed. So, what’s your plan for my next exhibition, manager?’
‘Let’s see… Perhaps an immersive experience for your fans,’ Charles suggests as they walk into the house. ‘In an unconventional location. Like a brewery.’
‘What fans?’
‘Play along. Imagine a—’
‘Charles!’
‘Right… He’s not that busy.’ Charles displays his puppet smile and turns towards the study, whose door has flown open. ‘Hello. You’re here? I thought…’
He reflexively reaches for the pen he won’t find in his coat pocket. He’s learnt to pair the forerunners of Milton storms with how hard they will hit, and his father’s current expression presages a violent one.
‘Do you… Do you remember Loris?’
‘Tell him to leave my house.’
Milton makes his way across the entrance hall without giving them a single look.
Charles scoffs at this record level of disdain. ‘This is rude!’
‘Follow me. Now.’
‘No, thank you, I’ll—’
