Page 77 of Oz
I sigh and rest my head against his chest, inhaling his fresh sea scent. “Because I want her to like you too,” I whisper. “I don’t know why, but this is really important to me too.” I inhale deeply. “I think in some way I thought you’d take one look at this place and hightail it out of here and I just wanted to get it over with.” I shake my head and dig my forehead into his chest. “Why don’t you ever perform according to expectations?”
I relax as he chuckles and hugs me the best he can with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. As it is, the cellophane goes up my nose. “My performances are beyond expectations every time,” he says grandly.
“As is your big head,” I say wryly, loving the sound of his rich, warm laughter in this dank stairwell. I stop him as he goes to move. “She’ll love you,” I say quietly.
He stills. “How do you know?”
I scratch my nose awkwardly. “I just know,” I finally say, and he holds my gaze for a long second before a slow smile spreads across his face.
“Okay,” he says softly.
The smile’s long gone by the time we reach the seventeenth floor. “You okay?” I gasp.
“I don’t know,” he croaks. “I think I coughed up my spleen on the twelfth floor.”
“You’re very unfit.”
“Whatever,” he says indignantly. “Wasn’t it you begging me to carry you on floor thirteen?”
“That was just for your fitness. I’m fine,” I say primly.
He laughs and groans. “Well, I can cross Everest off my bucket list. It would just be a massive disappointment now.” I laugh loudly and he shakes his head. “If I didn’t want your mum to like me so much I’d have used the bouquet as a crutch.”
I shove him gently. “Come on. We need to get in quickly before either of her neighbours spot us.”
“Why?”
“Well, one of them might try to sell you weed while the other might try to fuck you.”
He blinks. “I think living here would really improve my social life.”
“You’ll never know.” I ring the doorbell and brush his hair back off his forehead. “You ready?”
He breathes in. “Yes.”
“It’s my mother, Silas. Not the firing squad.” I pause. “Unless you’re coming in late without ringing her. Then the firing squad looks attractive.”
I hear quick footsteps and I’m smiling before the door opens. I see him look at me but instead I grin widely. “Ma,” I exclaim, and she grabs me, hugging and kissing.
“A ghrá geal. How are you?” She pushes me back. “You look so well,” she says happily. “Your hair’s longer and you’ve lost those awful bags under your eyes from keeping bad company every single bloody night.”
There’s a smothered snort from my right and I turn. “Ma, I want you to meet someone.” I reach out and snag his hand and pull him forward. “This is Silas.”
She looks at him for a long second, her gaze catching and holding on our clasped hands, and worry crosses her open face.
Silas smiles at her. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” he says. The cut-glass accent is far posher than anything James could manage and it makes my mum’s eyes widen. It sounds wrong on this dingy landing. “Oz has told me so much about you.”
For a long second, she stands still and my heart sinks. Silas must sense this because he steps back, looking at me in concern. He squeezes my hand, and when I look at him he smiles reassuringly at me, which immediately makes me relax a bit. He winks and I shake my head.
When I look back at my mum she’s still staring at him as though I’ve brought a Tory MP to her door, but all of a sudden her expression changes and she smiles widely.
“Come in, lad,” she urges. “Oz has told me a lot about you too.”
He offers her the flowers, smiling almost shyly. “These are for you.”
She looks down at the fragrant blooms and her face goes soft. “Forme? Oh, they’re so beautiful. Thank you.”
I feel a lump in my throat and act quickly. “Are we having dinner on the doorstep because that’s definitely too al fresco for around here?”
