Page 83 of Oz
She holds out her hand. “It’s a very sweet gesture. It’s probably not what I’m used to, but I’d love to see what you’vegot.” Silence stretches like toffee as she keeps her hand held out. The woman’s obviously up on her Pilates as there’s no sign of shaking muscles. “Oz?” she says and I just give in.
I set the magazine neatly into her raised palm and silence falls on the room apart from Silas’s choked intake of breath. She stares at the magazine in her hand like I’ve just put a big poo in her palm and it’s abruptly too much.
“It’s a collector’s edition,” I say and leg it out of her room as fast as I can.
Half an hour later I hear Silas’s bedroom door open. “Go away,” I say, not taking my hand from across my eyes.
“Oh Oz, you do know what a very special person you are, don’t you?” I can hear the barely suppressed mirth in his voice.
“Fuck off,” I mutter.
“No, really. Mother’s face will live in my memory until the day I die. It was utterly … stupendous.”
“What did she say when I left?” I ask, removing my hand. He’s standing at the bottom of the bed with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.
“It’s actually the first time I’ve ever seen her speechless. It lasted for a full two minutes.”
I groan. “Oh myGod, that’s the most awful thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Oh, don’t say that. You haven’t had a proper conversation with her yet. There’s plenty of time for things to get a lot worse.”
“I just gave your mother a gay porn magazine.”
“It was a collector’s edition,” he says helpfully. His eyes run down my body clad in just a towel. “Have I missed your shower?”
“Yes, but you caught the ritual humiliation instead,” I say sourly.
He throws himself down on the bed next to me and raises his arm for me to snuggle in. “Don’t even bother getting worried.”
“This is your mother.” I come up on one elbow. “She’s never going to like me now.”
“She was never going to like you anyway.”
I draw back, stunned at the sharp sting. “Because of my background?”
“No. Because she doesn’t like anyone,” he says simply. “She’s not a nice person and I’d like you to spend as little time as you can with her. Stay out of her way.”
“I can look after myself.”
“I know you can, but you’ve never encountered anyone like her. She’s utterly poisonous.”
I rest my chin on his warm chest and he strokes my hair back. “What was she like when you were growing up?”
“Exactly the same,” he says steadily and sighs. He stares into space for a second and then looks at me. “She was cold and haughty. She wasn’t loving like your mum. But she’s still my mother and …” He hesitates.
“And you love her,” I say softly.
He shakes his head. “I’m a twat.”
“No, you’re a son and you’re a good man. It doesn’t make it easy when you have parents like that, but I know you. You’re loyal and you don’t stop loving people just because their behaviour means you should.”
He leans sideways and catches my mouth in a soft kiss. “It’s very tiring,” he sighs. “I’m glad when she goes and then I feel guilty.”
We lie silently for a few minutes, my fingers brushing his chest in a hypnotic motion. Finally, I stir.
“Where’s the magazine?”
He snorts. “Over there.”
