Page 35 of The Best of Times
Aron joined him. Paul was right, London hadn’t been gripped with this much grey since Dickens’ day, when it was full of smog. The Professor would probably approve. He’d call it atmospheric.
“Now it’s my turn to ask you if you’re okay,” Aron said.
“Yeah. You know me.”
“Mr Impenetrable.”
“If only.”
Despite everything that had happened between them, Aron didn’t like to think of Paul suffering in any way. Behind the banter they had shared over the last few days, Aron had begun to suspect that Paul wanted to connect on a deeper level.
Whilst he wasn’t sure if he would want that, he couldn’t deny his curiosity. People were coming out of the woodwork left, right and centre on this trip home. He half expected Giles Finnegan, the classmate Aron lost his virginity with, to knock on the door.
“Talk to me,” Aron said quietly.
“I don’t really deserve the chance.”
“True. I’m giving it to you anyway. It would be rude to throw it back in my face a second time.”
Paul fiddled with the leaves of a plant that the Professor had in the window. Of course, it was housed in a Dickensian pot. Aron examined a little closer and instantly recognised the character of Pip fromGreat Expectationsdashing across the marshes at the beginning of the story.
“I guess it feels weird seeing Dad remarry,” Paul said. “And please don’t think I have anything against your grandmother because I don’t. I love her very much.”
Aron reached and took hold of Paul’s arm. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. It’s perfectly natural to feel odd about it.”
“Is it? Mum died years ago and I’m hardly going to be affected by them getting together. I’m very much a fully grown adult, as you’ve made clear on more than one occasion.”
Aron still gripped Paul’s arm. It was the most physical contact they’d had in years and he found he quite liked it.
“Ah now you’re trying to apply logic to an emotion. I gave that up a long time ago,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure Granny ever truly loved Grandpa. They got on well and were an ideal couple, but love? Didn’t see a huge amount of that. Your mum and dad were completely different. Anyone could see they adored each other.”
Aron remembered Paul’s mother vividly. She had always been full of fun and it had broken his heart when cancer had claimed her life far too early.
“Yeah. She loved Mrs W too so there’s no fear that she wouldn’t approve. I’m being silly.”
“No you’re not. I hate to tell you this. You just identified a feeling and shared it.”
“Don’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Paul moved closer. Aron’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. He should stop this. It wasn’t part of the plan. Yet he remained frozen to the spot.
Their breath almost mingling, Aron stared into Paul’s eyes.
There is nothing but trouble there. Abort.
With a show of self-control that he didn’t realise he possessed, Aron sprang back.
“Fuck. Is that the time?” he said, glancing at the clock. “I’ve got a date with my own mother soon and I want to look spectacular.”
Paul ran his hand through his hair and exhaled.
“If you identify any emotions that you need to share, give me a shout.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Aron sped out of the room and the house. Once on the street, he tried his best to walk as calmly as possible. He knew fullwell that Paul would be watching him from the window as he retreated to Wimpole HQ.
