‘Whenever you’re ready!’
Elsy wouldn’t be of any help to bring true-Fred back to life. The Buchanans moved to London after his accident. She onlyknows the model heir from the portraits. The Ledwell urban legend.
As for his omission regarding his projects, Charles doesn’t feel one iota of guilt about it, determined to keep Loris away from his messy and draining world.
When they return to the table, George sets his evacuation plan in motion. The first phase entails the three of them ducking out through the garden, so they exit the room without a goodbye to anyone.
Charles waits until he’s sitting in the Uber – with George and Elsy wrangling over their destination – to open the message he received while he was dancing and suffocating.
20:12 WITH ONE LSome lines hit hard!
Loris has cropped a photo of a page ofThe Mind of Wondersaround a quote:
‘I have always been frightened by my emotions, and how they would force me to evolve if I stopped repressing them. But when I am with Matthew, I am not scared to be moved. Near him, I am eager to face my lies and find my truths.’
20:33I knew you’d end up happy to reread it.
20:34 WITH ONE LI wouldn’t go that far
20:34 WITH ONE LStill coming tomorrow? I’m going out in the evening but a couple of hours is better than nothing!
Charles bites down his first genuine smile of the day as a bright countdown goes off in his mind. A melodious ticking clock, bringing him closer to Loris’ flat, where nothing is messy. Where he has few lies to face and many truths to find.
***
Buying beers after work was a stress-free mission today. After all, Fred wouldn’t worry himself sick over the risk of being reported to their father.
On the other hand, posing isn’t as smooth of a process. When Loris asked if he could sit closer, Charles didn’t think he meant four feet away nor that he would move the easel sideways. His flick-looks aren’t subtle, and when Charles turns towards the window to escape them, he has to stare at his own reflection because it’s pitch dark outside.
He needs to keep Loris talking, in order to mind-travel safely without showing his true colours. So now that Loris is done sharing pub anecdotes, Charles unfolds his mental list of questions about the flat.
‘Why are your pillowcases mismatched on your sofa and your bed? It’s bugging me.’
‘Laziness?’ Loris puts his beer bottle back onto the floor behind his stool. ‘I made a mistake last time I changed the bedding. And no, I can’t just switch the pillows, they don’t have the same firmness.’
‘This is a boring explanation.’
‘That was a boring question.’
‘Next one, then! What’s with the concert ticket stuck on your fridge?’
Loris casts a look at the kitchenette. ‘It was a music festival, hosted by a town close to mine.’
‘And you went? Weren’t you four? If my maths is correct.’
‘It was family friendly.’
‘It must have made quite an impact.’
‘I don’t remember much. Impressions mostly. The blend of smells.The vibrations from the giant speakers. How I towered above the crowd from my dad’s shoulders. I pretended to be a Transformer.’
If there’s more to the story, Charles would rather hear it than invent it, but he’s reluctant to insist. Reluctant to bother Loris the way he would be bothered if someone failed to take the hint that a memory is personal.
‘My mum kept the tickets because it was our last outing, the three of us. Dad was already sick, and it worsened real quick after that.’
An icy shiver races up Charles’ spine. ‘Shit. I’m sorry I asked.’
‘Don’t be. It’s okay.’
