Page 95 of The Surrender
He said that when we went to meet my friends, and then he stormed away from the table to calm himself down when Charley said something out of place. My father doesn’t see his faults. And if he does, it takes him a while, but he never admits he’s wrong. He just waits for me to visit and make him tea, which is code forWe’re okay until you piss me off again soon.
My apprehension grows with each step we take down to the lobby, my eyes darting, looking for them.
“I said, stop stressing,” Jude orders quietly.
“I can’t help it. Just take everything he says with a pinch of salt, okay?” Jude’s about to get a strong dose of my family, and I’m sure I’m about to cringe to London and back.
“It’s no big deal.”
“What if he insults you?” I ask. “He doesn’t mean to; it’s just he has no self-awareness sometimes.”
“I can’t believe how worked up you’re getting.”
“I don’t want him to put you off,” I say, surprising myselfandJude.
He stops halfway down the stairs and faces me, his eyes level with mine from where he’s standing on the step below. “And there we have it.” His smile is fond. “Amelia, my brilliant, gorgeous girlfriend, there is nothing in this world that could put me off you.”
My heart melts to nothing. “There’s nothing that could put me off you either,” I reply.
“I truly hope you mean that.”
“I do.” I push my mouth to his. “I love you.”
“I love you more. We get this big dramatic meet over with, we finish what we started upstairs, and then we’re booking our getaway, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Right.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “My father is alot.”
“And my love for you is a lota lot, so the balance ofa lotis in my favour.” Stroking my cheek, he comes close, nose to nose. “Are you going to argue with me?” I shake my head, making our noses rub. “Good. Let’s go meet the parents.”
He claims my hand, and I watch as he takes in air, obviously bracing himself, and then leads me down the curved stairs. “Oh God,” I whisper, when I see my mother sitting on one of the chesterfield couches in the lobby, my dad pacing in front of the window. Judesqueezes my hand tighter and nudges me with his shoulder, and I look up at him.
“I’ve got you,” he says, raking a hand through his mussed-up hair, prompting me to do the same. I must look like a sack of potatoes, all crinkled and flushed.
“Amelia!” Mum sings, hurrying up from the couch.
Jude releases my hand, allowing me to hug my mother. “I can’t believe he’s done this,” I whisper in her ear, and she laughs, loud and uneasy. “Mum, this is Jude.” I open up the way for her. “Jude, my mum, Jenn.”
“Well, it’s lovely to finally meet you officially.” She gives me wide, excited eyes when Jude dips and kisses her on each cheek.
“What a pleasure,” he says softly.
“And this is my dad, Dennis.” I lock eyes with my father and mentally beg him to rein himself in and control his impulses. “Dad, this is Jude.”
“Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Lazenby.” Jude extends his hand, and Dad does a terrible job of smiling. It’s tight. Forced. It doesn’t bode well and begs the question of why he even came. It’s exactly what I feared. He’s not had enough time to get used to this.
My father doesn’t correct Jude or tell him to call him Dennis. “Likewise,” he says, making his shake quick, then pulling away and holding his hands behind his back. A horrific silence falls, and I shift uncomfortably, scratching through my head for something to say.
“Perhaps we’d be more comfortable in the Library Bar,” Jude suggests, motioning the way.
“Oh, yes.” I point across the lobby. “The Library Bar.”
“You say that like there’s more than one bar,” Dad muses, gazing around again.
“There is.” I motion to the other end of the lobby. “The Piano Bar is through there, and there’s another in the club across the grounds.”
