Read Online The Nightmare Stacks: A Laundry Files novel by Charles Stross - Free Book Online
Authors: Charles Stross
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boyfriend who thinks she’s a grown-up, and who she will in due course bring home to introduce to the parents over dinner, at which point The Question becomes an unavoidable, fiery source of mortification and embarrassment —
“I can make that Saturday,” he hears his traitor mouth admit as his attention splits to drive his feet in a wide berth around a pavement pizza. “But honestly, if it’s too much bother you don’t need to —”
“Nonsense, I was going to cook anyway! Sarah’s going to bring Mack.” This is the first time he’s heard a male name attached to his younger sibling and he almost walks into a lamppost in surprise, even though it’s entirely in line with his earlier speculation. “Are you bringing, anyone?” He almost misses the brief pause. “We’re dying to meet her, your mystery girlfriend!”
This is The Question, and Alex’s stomach lurches queasily. He’s about to recklessly say
I met this girl called Cassie
, but then he suddenly realizes that they
didn’t
meet. He didn’t even get her phone number. His social life is as bereft of feminine company as ever. “I’ll have to see if she’s free,” he says flatly. “Call you back later?”
“All right! Saturday at seven! Love you, dear!” And Mum ends the call, leaving him twitching on the hook, its viciously barbed point cramping his guts.
Here’s the thing: Alex’s parents are, well,
parents
. Subtype: well-meaning, very ordinary folks. They live in a nice semi out towards Adel, in a classic sixties suburban development (subtype: British, which means self-conscious, cramped, and embarrassed by the trappings of prosperity). Mum, Dad, son, daughter. Two cars and a one-car garage. They’re living the dream, for Marks & Spencer values of the dream, working really hard at being sober-sided middle-class professionals. Dad (never Eric to Alex) is a chartered accountant, Mum (never Samantha) is a tax officer, and Sarah is going to follow in Dad’s footsteps because Alex, the eldest son, insisted on taking his uncanny mental acuity with mathematics to a higher level – but their initial misgivings subsided when he completed his doctoral thesis, replaced by genuine pride when he got a
real
job in the City.
Alex is the eldest child and only son, and Mum and Dad have certain expectations involving the eventual patter of tiny feet. They waited patiently through his schooling and first degree: he was awfully
busy
studying, they agreed. And they waited some more during his PhD. But now he has a
real
job, and a high-status, high-paying one at that, by their lights, so why isn’t he dating an elegantly dressed Jessica from Gilts, and dropping pink-eared hints about engagement rings?
About eight months ago Mum popped The Question and, in a second of weakness, Alex didn’t so much deny being single, let alone pull an imaginary girlfriend out of his hat, as evade The Question and allow his mother to draw her own conclusions. It wasn’t that he
wanted
to mislead his parents as that he was deathly tired of the ritualized ordeal. But he now realizes he should have nipped her misconception in the bud immediately. Mum has somehow convinced herself that Alex is hiding a girlfriend from her, which can only mean something unspeakable. Or worse: he’s hiding a boyfriend, which will force her to confront her own easy assumption that she’s not prejudiced.
In truth, Alex
is
hiding something, but it’s not what she thinks. Alex doesn’t work for the bank anymore. (He’s on indefinite unpaid leave, which is much the same thing.) Alex’s salary has dropped by over 70 percent and there are no juicy bonuses depending on his year-end review. He’s spent so much time focussing on his studies in applied computational demonology and his new job as a civil servant that he hasn’t had time to think about socializing. And that’s before he takes into account his personal affliction: seropositive for V syndrome, and all it implies. Alex could meet
“I can make that Saturday,” he hears his traitor mouth admit as his attention splits to drive his feet in a wide berth around a pavement pizza. “But honestly, if it’s too much bother you don’t need to —”
“Nonsense, I was going to cook anyway! Sarah’s going to bring Mack.” This is the first time he’s heard a male name attached to his younger sibling and he almost walks into a lamppost in surprise, even though it’s entirely in line with his earlier speculation. “Are you bringing, anyone?” He almost misses the brief pause. “We’re dying to meet her, your mystery girlfriend!”
This is The Question, and Alex’s stomach lurches queasily. He’s about to recklessly say
I met this girl called Cassie
, but then he suddenly realizes that they
didn’t
meet. He didn’t even get her phone number. His social life is as bereft of feminine company as ever. “I’ll have to see if she’s free,” he says flatly. “Call you back later?”
“All right! Saturday at seven! Love you, dear!” And Mum ends the call, leaving him twitching on the hook, its viciously barbed point cramping his guts.
Here’s the thing: Alex’s parents are, well,
parents
. Subtype: well-meaning, very ordinary folks. They live in a nice semi out towards Adel, in a classic sixties suburban development (subtype: British, which means self-conscious, cramped, and embarrassed by the trappings of prosperity). Mum, Dad, son, daughter. Two cars and a one-car garage. They’re living the dream, for Marks & Spencer values of the dream, working really hard at being sober-sided middle-class professionals. Dad (never Eric to Alex) is a chartered accountant, Mum (never Samantha) is a tax officer, and Sarah is going to follow in Dad’s footsteps because Alex, the eldest son, insisted on taking his uncanny mental acuity with mathematics to a higher level – but their initial misgivings subsided when he completed his doctoral thesis, replaced by genuine pride when he got a
real
job in the City.
Alex is the eldest child and only son, and Mum and Dad have certain expectations involving the eventual patter of tiny feet. They waited patiently through his schooling and first degree: he was awfully
busy
studying, they agreed. And they waited some more during his PhD. But now he has a
real
job, and a high-status, high-paying one at that, by their lights, so why isn’t he dating an elegantly dressed Jessica from Gilts, and dropping pink-eared hints about engagement rings?
About eight months ago Mum popped The Question and, in a second of weakness, Alex didn’t so much deny being single, let alone pull an imaginary girlfriend out of his hat, as evade The Question and allow his mother to draw her own conclusions. It wasn’t that he
wanted
to mislead his parents as that he was deathly tired of the ritualized ordeal. But he now realizes he should have nipped her misconception in the bud immediately. Mum has somehow convinced herself that Alex is hiding a girlfriend from her, which can only mean something unspeakable. Or worse: he’s hiding a boyfriend, which will force her to confront her own easy assumption that she’s not prejudiced.
In truth, Alex
is
hiding something, but it’s not what she thinks. Alex doesn’t work for the bank anymore. (He’s on indefinite unpaid leave, which is much the same thing.) Alex’s salary has dropped by over 70 percent and there are no juicy bonuses depending on his year-end review. He’s spent so much time focussing on his studies in applied computational demonology and his new job as a civil servant that he hasn’t had time to think about socializing. And that’s before he takes into account his personal affliction: seropositive for V syndrome, and all it implies. Alex could meet
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