Page 42 of The Naked Cleaner

It kind of is, our first proper…date. We’ve never gone out anywhere together before. It’s not like we have had the time with working and having…sex.

“This is your first date?” Mum questions and claps her hands like a little girl. “Oh, I love it, my boy brings his lover home to meet us on their first date, it’s definitely love then. Don’t you think Bernt?”

“Isabell, you closed my Safari windows again, I have told you to be careful with the iPad.”

“You can save them in your History? Then they will re-open again?” Pontus doesn’t sound convinced, his voice far too wobbly for my liking.

“Show me?” My dad says, looking over the rim of his reading glasses. “See Louis? I like this boy already.”

“Pontus, we are so pleased to meet you.” My mum says, taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table. Which is not good. Far too close. “We, Bernt and I, want you to feel at home here. If anything makes you uncomfortable or if you have questions, we are very open to hear them. I understand that you are new to the lifestyle, and we are very keen to integrate you in a way that you feel relaxed about naturism and how we live our lives in general. I’m sure Louis has explained it all to you, but please talk to us and tell us if there is anything that concerns you.”

“You can always talk to us, Pontus.” Dad mutters, and then he cheers loudly. “Look, the windows opened again. Fantastic. I love this iPad thing. Now, where were we? The future of computer graphics.”

“No Bernt. We were inviting Pontus to voice any concerns about Naturism.” Mum says shooting Pontus a warm smile.

“Yes, and Pontus, I am happy to answer questions, but I draw the line at what I choose to wear, or in this case, not wear, in my own home. I like slippers. Look? Slippers. I wear them to greet guests.”

“Yeah, Dad, because you think your toenails are disgusting.” I pipe up. How old am I again? Three?

“I agree, my toenails are not my finest asset. I do though have exceptional pecs.” Dad continues, flexing his chest muscles, which is simply his way of ensuring my total embarrassment, and then he laughs while Mum just shakes her head.

“I tried, Louis, I really did, baby.” She giggles, and reaches out to ruffle my hair. “Now Pontus, has Louis offered you a beer? Let’s have a drink and relax. I want to hear all about your company, and Bernt has questions. Also, you are an accountant? No?”

“Pontus is a website designer.” I stutter out... I think. I haven’t been paying attention, obviously.

“I have degrees in both IT and economics.” Pontus says, his eyes briefly flickering to mine.

“See, Louis?” Dad says, taking a sip from the bottle of beer he has sitting on the floor next to him. “Pontus is absolutely fine. No need to go into this full panic about being clothed at home.”

“It’s fine.” Pontus stutters, when I can see that it’s anything but. Pontus isnotfine. This is fucking awful. Or is it?

“Louis, it’s fine.” Pontus laughs. “You look like you are about to combust. If your clothes bother you, just strip. Honestly. You are going to faint if you are going to sit there and hold your breath for the entire evening.”

This, is a different Pontus. One I haven’t really seen before. And Mum is ruffling Pontus’ hair like they have known each other for ages, and she waltzes off into the kitchen, returning with some of her home-made oven-roasted vegetable crisps and the spicy tomato dip that I really like. My parents are trying, I can see that. And I do love them. Adore them.

And perhaps Pontus is right. Perhaps I need to breathe. Chill. I slowly pull the t-shirt off over my head. Let the cool air in the room soothe my skin. Better. I can breathe a little better.

“Good.” Pontus says, and pats my arm. “It’s fine Louis. It is.”

He is smiling, which kind of eggs me on.

“I like that you support Louis, and don’t restrict him in the way he chooses to live.” Dad says, and stares at Pontus who just nods.

“He needs to be who he is.” Pontus says, and swallows. Loudly. Like getting that off his chest takes a lot of effort.

Guts. Pontus has them. And, fuck, I’m bloody proud. Then he floors me with honesty.

“I don’t think being a naturist is for me, but I can see the benefits. I understand a little of how Louis functions, and I see it works for him. He is calmer when he can be… himself.”

“Textiles do that to you. I’m very much the same.” My dad says, nodding at me with a smile. “Stick a coat on me and I don’t know how I am supposed to behave. I struggle when I go out to run errands, I feel all self-conscious, and unsure if I am wearing the right thing. Mother gets all uptight. It’s just easier to live like this. It suits us. And we can follow our ideologies and be close to nature. The way we were intended to be. It’s not something that suits everyone, Pontus, and whatever Louis says, we are not some sort of cult that want to recruit you into our depraved lifestyle.” He chuckles like he has told a joke, as I nervously strip out of my joggers and socks. Take a deep breath before removing my boxers and letting them drop to the floor.

“Louis, I’m not your laundry service. Go put your clothes away, what will Pontus think? That we live in a pigsty?” Mum is not joking, and Pontus sits up straighter as she places an ice-cold beer in his hand, and offers a plate of my grandpa’s secret family recipe Cocadas. That’s the vegan version, by the way. I made them, and they are pretty-much perfect. I want to tell them that, but my Dad is off on another tangent, that Mum swiftly interrupts by waving her arms in the air.

“Now, Pontus. Tell me about designing websites. Did you have a chance to look at ours? I think an upgrade is due, and I would love to hear your views. Now Bernt, pass me the iPad and I will show you what I had in mind. Perhaps you can suggest some changes?”

I can hear them as I walk over to the hallway, and throw my clothes in a pile on the floor. Let my arms stretch above my head, the joints cracking as I move.

Perhaps it will be fine. Perhaps.

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