ground, and I felt a smile creeping on to my face. Then I spotted the hickey again.
I made a face and Brendan noticed. “What?”
I flickered my fingers on the side of my own neck, grimacing.
“I thought you wanted to freak them out?”
“Yeah, but not make my mum die of a heart attack. My cousin had one, once, and Mum wouldn’t shut up for a week about how obscene it was.”
Brendan just shrugged. “Not much I can do about it.” Then he saw me glance at the make-up on my dressing table. “No fucking way.”
I put my palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Forget it. Let’s just get out there. Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“ I’m fine. Are you?”
“Nope.”
I led the way to the kitchen feeling slightly sick. It was only once my hand was on the door handle that I suddenly wondered, with a flutter of panic, why they were here. Like, really wondered and had all sorts of drastic scenarios enter my head about why on earth they would come to see me on a Saturday morning. They’d gone bankrupt. Someone had cancer. Someone was dead.
“Kat?” Brendan was whispering in my ear, and I realised I had just been standing there for a long time.
“Yeah,” I breathed, and then I pushed on the door. Just as I started walking through, Brendan linked his fingers with mine. I squeezed tightly, both grateful and terrified.
As I suspected would happen, my mum’s appraising eyes honed right in on those linked hands, my hand in Brendan’s, this slightly scruffy boy I’d never mentioned before. Though it didn’t feel like my hand, since I was having an out of body experience, my psyche wanting to distance itself from the crackling tension in the room, mostly centred around my mother. I saw her nostrils flare, the clear signal that she was not well pleased.
I took my hand out of Brendan’s to kiss them both in greeting. They were standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, my mum clutching her handbag to herself like she was afraid it would be infected if she set it down.
“Mum, Dad. This is a surprise. Won’t you sit down? I’ll make some tea.”
“What kind do you have?” my mum asked, as she inspected the bench seat I had gestured them to, before sitting stiffly.
“Ah, tea bags,” I said.
“None for me, thank you.”
“Do you have coffee?” my dad asked.
“Only instant.”
“Ah.” That was a no then. And so there was nothing for it. I just slid onto the bench seat opposite them, and smiled too brightly through my anxiety. Brendan slid in beside me and lay his arm across the back of the seats, around my shoulders. My smile tightened but didn’t falter.
“Mum, Dad, this is Brendan. He’s… he’s, ah, studying, ah, science and maths?” I said, realising I didn’t know exactly what he was studying, and the words were coming out as a question. “Same as Justin. You remember Justin, right?” I said, latching on to a new path, and nodding at him.
“We’ve been having a well nice chat,” Justin said, and my eyes widened at his slight but noticeable Yorkshire accent — an accent he didn’t normally have, being from West London.
“And Steph, Justin’s girlfriend,” I added, with a nod and smile towards the small, dark haired girl entering with a mug in her hand. She beamed at this introduction and I saw Justin pale slightly. Served him right.
“And you know Izzy,” I said. Strangely enough, my parents actually seemed to like Izzy. She’d been home with me several times to have dinner with my parents, and she always charmed the pants off them. Especially my dad.
But they’d obviously already said their hellos, because the attention was squarely back on me again. I was still smiling like a loon.
“So, ah, what are you doing here, guys?” Guys? Since when did I call my parents ‘guys’?
“Just visiting our one and only daughter,” my mother said, trying to smile. Which made me worried. ‘Just because’ was never a reason for anything in my parents world.
I made a face and Brendan noticed. “What?”
I flickered my fingers on the side of my own neck, grimacing.
“I thought you wanted to freak them out?”
“Yeah, but not make my mum die of a heart attack. My cousin had one, once, and Mum wouldn’t shut up for a week about how obscene it was.”
Brendan just shrugged. “Not much I can do about it.” Then he saw me glance at the make-up on my dressing table. “No fucking way.”
I put my palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Forget it. Let’s just get out there. Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“ I’m fine. Are you?”
“Nope.”
I led the way to the kitchen feeling slightly sick. It was only once my hand was on the door handle that I suddenly wondered, with a flutter of panic, why they were here. Like, really wondered and had all sorts of drastic scenarios enter my head about why on earth they would come to see me on a Saturday morning. They’d gone bankrupt. Someone had cancer. Someone was dead.
“Kat?” Brendan was whispering in my ear, and I realised I had just been standing there for a long time.
“Yeah,” I breathed, and then I pushed on the door. Just as I started walking through, Brendan linked his fingers with mine. I squeezed tightly, both grateful and terrified.
As I suspected would happen, my mum’s appraising eyes honed right in on those linked hands, my hand in Brendan’s, this slightly scruffy boy I’d never mentioned before. Though it didn’t feel like my hand, since I was having an out of body experience, my psyche wanting to distance itself from the crackling tension in the room, mostly centred around my mother. I saw her nostrils flare, the clear signal that she was not well pleased.
I took my hand out of Brendan’s to kiss them both in greeting. They were standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, my mum clutching her handbag to herself like she was afraid it would be infected if she set it down.
“Mum, Dad. This is a surprise. Won’t you sit down? I’ll make some tea.”
“What kind do you have?” my mum asked, as she inspected the bench seat I had gestured them to, before sitting stiffly.
“Ah, tea bags,” I said.
“None for me, thank you.”
“Do you have coffee?” my dad asked.
“Only instant.”
“Ah.” That was a no then. And so there was nothing for it. I just slid onto the bench seat opposite them, and smiled too brightly through my anxiety. Brendan slid in beside me and lay his arm across the back of the seats, around my shoulders. My smile tightened but didn’t falter.
“Mum, Dad, this is Brendan. He’s… he’s, ah, studying, ah, science and maths?” I said, realising I didn’t know exactly what he was studying, and the words were coming out as a question. “Same as Justin. You remember Justin, right?” I said, latching on to a new path, and nodding at him.
“We’ve been having a well nice chat,” Justin said, and my eyes widened at his slight but noticeable Yorkshire accent — an accent he didn’t normally have, being from West London.
“And Steph, Justin’s girlfriend,” I added, with a nod and smile towards the small, dark haired girl entering with a mug in her hand. She beamed at this introduction and I saw Justin pale slightly. Served him right.
“And you know Izzy,” I said. Strangely enough, my parents actually seemed to like Izzy. She’d been home with me several times to have dinner with my parents, and she always charmed the pants off them. Especially my dad.
But they’d obviously already said their hellos, because the attention was squarely back on me again. I was still smiling like a loon.
“So, ah, what are you doing here, guys?” Guys? Since when did I call my parents ‘guys’?
“Just visiting our one and only daughter,” my mother said, trying to smile. Which made me worried. ‘Just because’ was never a reason for anything in my parents world.
Similar Books
