“Have you rung? And what’s up with the sudden demand for tea? Mrs Cook is most confused down there.”
“Phone call is next on my list. And now... I like tea.”
“Okay… Fine. Assembly was a mess, Riley. You need to get a grip.”
“It wasn’t pristine, I know that. There’s a lot going on.”
“Yes, and the board meeting on Thursday is making me nervous. I had a phone call from Baronetess Daniels, and that never bodes well.”
“I see.” I agreed with her. Baronetess Daniels was a pain at the best of times, and I wasn’t looking forward to once again getting a dressing-down from her with regard to her beliefs. She’d vetoed my appointment as had her now late husband, and if it wasn’t for her owning most of the land we were occupying, I would have… I had no legs to stand on here, apart from my own. And I had held my head up high for the past ten years and survived everything she and her board of cronies had thrown at me. So far.
So I took a sip of tea and made that phone call.
A few hours later, I was pacing around the retail park in Oban, with a kid who had no idea what he was allowed to wear or choose and who’d burst into tears when I tried to buy him trainers.
Talk about emotional toll, and to be honest? I should demand more pay and more time off, and perhaps Baronetess Daniels could get off her high horse for once and come in and spend some time with these boys before she got herself wound up with morals and the lower classes infiltrating today’s noble youth. I shuddered, pacing the floor outside the men’s changing rooms, hoping he’d calmed down enough to at least try on some trousers and shirts. We’d managed to pick out slippers so far. The floor got cold. And that gravel was hell on your feet.
“Sorry,” he snivelled, coming back out with his arms full of clothes, as I gave his hair a little ruffle. A bit of human affection. Fuck, I should have sent Emma; she’d have been way better at this than I was.
“Nothing to be sorry about. We’re just getting clothes that fit you. You’re still growing, and I know what you’re wearing is the outfit you feel the most comfortable in, but it’s worn and torn. And a little bit too small for you. All the highland air has made you grow.”
“I grew fine in Aberdeen.”
“You never told me, how did you end up in Aberdeen?” Deflect, deflect, deflect. Make him talk to me. The whole point of this little outing, because I was still rattled from the earlier phone call. And I could see now that a lot of what came out of Bailey Butcher’s mouth kind of…made sense.
He grinned, but it wasn’t a happy one. “Another boyfriend. Dickhead called Mark. Got Mum back on smack again, and then…”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not. Mum’s in prison. Life sentence.”
“Not your fault.”
“I’m not stupid, Fox.”
“You shouldn’t call me that. I’m Mr Riley. Your headmaster.”
“You’re not at work now, dude.”
“Bailey.”
“Seriously? I’m going to start calling you Dad now, just for that.”
“Bai…” Oh. Yeah. He had me there. Manipulative little shit.
“If you want things to be nice and smooth here, you follow the rules.” That was a threat. And he just smiled.
“I’m following every rule here. I’m walking nicely, not running off, being polite, and I don’t need the toilet, thank you very much.”
It took a few seconds, but I got it. He’d done this before. Been out with strangers who demanded his obedience and were terrified he’d run off. A bit like me.
“Do you want to go and have dinner? With me?”
“Like a date?” He grinned. “Told you. Not gay. Not interested in dudes.”
He was far too young to have conversations like this.
“You have a girlfriend?” I snuck in.
