‘Even if there were any truth to it, there is a good reason why it was kept quiet.’
‘Therewasa good reason. But it’s 2018 now, society has evolved, we’re all fine with—’
‘Charles.’
‘What? Would you putSofiaon the market if it became public knowledge that Pavel was super gay?’
‘Enough!’
Milton pivots again, and his dark laser eyes poke through Charles’ soul to reduce his confidence to ashes. To make him feel stupid for his words and ashamed of his thoughts. And Charles’ brain smokes under this familiar assault. A reflexive ‘I’m reallysorry’ escapes his lips. But when his heart resumes pounding after a few beats lost in panic, it’s not guilt that pumps it. It’s a strong itch to throw the apple at his father’s head.
‘I hope you are sorry, for spoiling a joyful moment. Leave me alone now. And focus on preparing the meeting you have been granted the privilege to lead. It will be a better use of the time you apparently have to spare.’
His nails sunk into the fruit, Charles steps out of the study, biting his tongue to hold back the second apology he usually counts on for Milton to forgive and forget.
In the entrance hall, he stomps on the black tiles.
What was he trying to achieve, provoking the one bully he won’t fight? Did that pointless fit of rebelliousness stem from theKaunasexcitement? Or from the glimmer of messed-up hope he failed to squash in the kitchen? In any case, it’s all gone and he’s empty.
As empty as Fred’s eyes, in the central photo of the staircase display.
Charles’ ears start buzzing as he gazes into his brother’s haunting look. His mouth goes dry and his chest heaves in warning.
He manages to make it to his room before the anxiety attack strikes, only to realise it’s not anxiety. It’s sheer anger and none of it is directed at himself. He’s not stupid, he has nothing to be ashamed of, he wasn’t wrong. He’s not the problem.
He throws the apple against his bin that tips over and empties onto the floor.
That felt good. He should carry an apple at all times. Or an orange, as Loris’ made-up customer would recommend.
Charles takes his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, walks to his bed and drops on his stomach. Drumming the mattress with his feet, he types a few words, deletes them, types a couple of lines, deletes them too, then rolls on his back.
The three lamps of the room project a painting of shadows onto the ceiling. Charles knows it by heart, because his lampshades are always angled the same way, creating this steady sight he’s in control of and can lean on to find his bearings again.
But, tonight, it’s bland and irritating.
He rolls back on his stomach and reopens his chat with Loris.
21:40Hi! I’m sorry for texting you out of the blue, but something came up, I’m freaking out (don’t judge me) and I have to share this with you!
He pastes the link his father emailed him, sends the message and leaves his phone on the mattress. He puts the rubbish back into the bin and tilts the head of the floor lamp near his desk. It doesn’t make much of a difference to the ceiling shadows, merely a slight distortion, but it might enlighten him. After all, it’s enlightening to resent his father for being despicable instead of resenting himself for driving his father to be despicable.
Charles goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and comes back to his bed.
21:43WITH ONE LThanks
There’s nothing else to read on his lock screen, so Charles displays the conversation, hoping to see Loris typing. But he was last online two minutes ago.
Thanks for what? Sharing the Olwinski news? Texting out of the blue? Leaving him alone forever now?
21:46I’m not sure what it’ll mean for Kaunas but it’s exciting, isn’t it?
Loris comes back online instantly. He must be bored out of his mindat the pub. Thursday nights are likely dead at the North—
Loris isn’t online anymore.
It’s alright. Perhaps he had to serve a customer. Perhaps he hasn’t read the article yet. Perhaps he wants to be left alone forever.
Charles moves against his pillows and swaps his phone for his glasses andTheMind of Wonders. He follows the outline of the title on the cover, every word of Fred’s note, then he skims over a few chapters to reach the one where Pavel recounted a winter afternoon spent with Matthew. The connection betweenSofiaandKaunasis highlighted in their exchanges. Their feelings for each other are implicit between the lines.
