“I think she said she’d just wait in the car park,” he replied, dragging his bag behind him.
The train doors hissed open, and we piled out onto the platform. Oliver instinctively started walking off towards some stairs and I followed along behind him.
“There she is,” Oliver muttered.
Andrea – Oliver’s mum – and Henry waved at us from their car. Andrea hopped out and hurried over to give me a hug.
“Oh, Max.” Andrea pulled me into her arms. Next, she threw herself at Oliver – who, I noticed, eventually returned her embrace. Henry got out of the car, and after shaking mine and Oliver’s hands, helped us put our bags into the boot.
Soon, we were roaring along a dual carriageway towards their house. Andrea chatted along the way, telling Oliver and I all about their journey to the station and how much planning she had put into the Christmas dinner. I nodded along politely; Oliver just stared blankly out of his window.
“So, how have you been Max? Last time I spoke to Oliver, he mentioned you needed a new job?” Her brow crinkled.
“Yeah, I’ve just recently been reassigned.” I nodded. “It’s a really nice place.”
“That’s wonderful.” She beamed at me before glancing across to her son. “Has he been like that the whole way down?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Yeah, but he had a little nap on the train, so hopefully he’ll perk up soon,” I teased. Oliver shot me a scathing look.
“Ooh, if looks could kill Max,” Andrea laughed, turning back to look at the road.
When we arrived at Oliver’s parents’ house, I was given a guided tour. It was a large stone cottage, complete with winding ivy. Andrea showed me around the large, modern interior before finally taking me to my room.
“I hope you and Oliver don’t mind sharing a room. We do have another spare bedroom, but Oliver’s grandmother is coming for Christmas lunch, and she’ll need to stay overnight. I don’t want her driving, especially if it snows like the weather forecast says.”
“No problem.” I nodded. “I manage to live with him, so I’m sure I’ll survive.”
Andrea chuckled, leaving to give us time to unpack and get settled. Once we were alone, Oliver just flopped onto the bed. I dumped my bag down and watched him curiously.
“Y’alright?” I asked.
“I guess,” he mumbled. “Sorry. Christmas is always a bit of shit time with dad and everything.”
“Yeah, I understand.” I paused, looking down at the old camp bed that was folded up beside the bed. “How the fuck do you put this thing together?”
“No idea.”
???
Christmas Day was upon us, and I woke to the echo of clattering cutlery from the kitchen. The room was bright with early morning sunshine.
As usual, the first thought through my head was about Rowan. I wondered what he was doing for Christmas. I felt a flare of guilt.
I pinched my nose. What was I doing? Rowan wasn’t some guy I’d picked up at a bar, or even just a work colleague – he was my boss, who was married with a daughter. Though, I had to be honest, I couldn’t see too many marriages being successful and happy if the husband was gay. Perhaps he was bisexual? I had no idea, but I knew I was inwayover my head already.
My stomach growled hungrily, and I sat up, alarmed to see Oliver’s bed vacant. I swung my legs over the edge of the creaky camp bed and headed downstairs.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Andrea looked up from the hob and greeted me. “Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, you too.” I yawned and sat next to Oliver at the breakfast bar. He looked up from his plate of food long enough to give me a nod before continuing to shovel sausage and beans into his mouth.
“You should have woken me,” I muttered to him as Andrea placed a plate piled high with food in front of me – bacon, eggs, beans, sausage… The works.
“Don’t be daft. If you can’t sleep in at Christmas, when can you?” Andrea winked at me. “My mother is in the front room with Henry.”
“Oh great, I’ll go say hi once I’ve finished.” I nodded, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth.
“Did you sleep well? Was the camp bed alright for you?” she asked, making herself a cup of coffee. I swallowed the mouthful of delicious food before answering her.
