Gregory was still full from brunch, so wasn’t sure where he was going to put a full Sunday lunch, but he’d find a way. His legs were hollow – something he’d gotten from his parents’ genetics – which he was thankful for. They could keep the rest of their shitty genes.
His mother must have hired someone, because she would never have been able to cook a Sunday roast. She could just about boil pasta and stir in a sauce that someone else had made. Gregory’s assumption was confirmed when some hired help started bringing the food in – something that would probably be billed to his company as entertainment, but not an issue he wanted to raise today. He just wanted to get through this meal so he could leave. He’d listened to Charlie’s advice and had agreed to meet Oscar later. They were meeting at Oscar’s house, which was probably not the most sensible location, but they needed to talk, not fuck, though there was no rule that said they couldn’t do both.
“How’s business?” asked his father.
“Busy,” said Gregory
He didn’t want to talk about his work; there would be an ulterior motive. With his father, there always was.
“Busy time of year, I suspect. All those resolutions. The whole new year, new me bollocks. Must be very lucrative.”
“Not really,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
Gregory wasn’t sure whether his father was genuinely interested, or irritated that whichever route he’d wanted the conversation to go had been halted.
“We don’t really make a lot from people who sign up in January and then quit within a month. It’s the repeat business where the profit is.”
“Yes, but surely you lock them in, so it’s a nice passive income until they can cancel.”
“That’s not our business model. We don’t fleece people. We want them to use the service. It’s designed to help people, not screw them over.”
“Language, Gregory,” said his mother.
Was she for real? His father had never shown an interest in his business before, and now he was asking all these questions. There could only be one reason he was doing this.
“Seems like a wasted opportunity for profit to me,” said his father. “I wonder what other opportunities you could be missing out on.”
Gregory rolled his eyes. Glancing at Barty, he was focussed on eating his food like he wasn’t listening to the conversation, but Gregory knew his brother better than that.
“Have you thought about getting some independent consultancy to review the business? See where you could make some efficiencies, and areas for expansion.”
Here it comes!
“Does that not sound like a good idea, Gregory?”
“Not really,” he said, stabbing a roast potato a bit too hard.
“Excuse me?”
“Why would I want someone external to review my company? I have people who are committed to our purpose who are always making things more efficient, and our expansion plans for the next three years are already mapped out.”
“Your father is only trying to give you advice, dear,” said his mother. “He knows a thing or two about business, you know.”
“And how much did your company make last year?”
Jaws dropped, and there was a clatter of cutlery. Gregory speared another roast potato and popped it into his mouth. They were delicious, but he was done with this meal. He stood up.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” his father bellowed.
“Home.”
“This is your home,” said his mother. “Not that... place you stay with those... those people.”
“Home? Be serious. This hasn’t been my home since you booted me out for liking dick.”
Barty almost choked on his food. His mother looked like she’d been slapped across the face, and his father went bright red.