Page 33 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
Something registered behind his blue eyes. “Jonah. My boy’s called Jonah. We play the piano together... he always likes to play the same song...” He tapped his finger against his forehead. “Can’t for the life of me remember it now.”
“‘You Win Again’ by the Bee Gees,” Jonah provided. “It’s actually quite an aggressive song when you look at the lyrics.”
“A God-awful song if you ask me.” His dad laughed. “But my boy liked it. He liked ABBA too. Always with the sequins, that kid.”
Jonah didn’t like ABBA. When Bastien found out, he threatened to take his gay card from him and called him a disgrace, which only made Jonah become more vocal over his dislike of them.
“It wasn’t ABBA,” Jonah said. “You’re thinking of Girls Aloud. Slightly different era, though.”
“Still camp as hell.”
Jonah laughed loudly then. “You’re not wrong.”
His dad raised his hand again, but this time he reached for Jonah’s and took it in his. “You remind me of him,” he said, his voice full to the brim with sincerity. “My boy. You remind me of him.”
Jonah squeezed his hand lightly, careful to not hurt him; he wanted to wrap him in cotton wool. “I love you very much. I want you to know that.”
“You do? Why say that? Am I dying?”
“No,” Jonah whispered. “But I think it’s important to tell people when you love them, don’t you?”
“I wish I could tell my son.”
“Don’t worry. He knows.”
Jonah unscrewed the second bottle of red wine and left it open on the kitchen table to breathe. He wasn’t sure if you let screw-top wines breathe, but he wanted to pretend he was sophisticated so let it bask in the warm evening air. His mum swirled the dregs of the wine in her glass around, her eyes fixated on the red liquid the same color as the nail polish on her fingernails. Her lips were slightly stained from the drink, her eyes heavy and dark, and Jonah’s eyes fell to the line of empty wine bottles by the back door waiting to be taken to the recycling center.
“You have your friends over a lot, Mum?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Yes. And book club.”
“I didn’t know you did a book club,” Jonah said, genuinely pleased to hear she was involving herself in the things she used to enjoy, reading being one of her many passions. He could remember when he was a child, her sitting on the edge of his bed reading him stories, letting him get lost in fantastical worlds where the troubles of the real life didn’t exist. “What have you been reading?”
“Something about murder and old people. We don’t actually read the books, Jonah, it’s just an excuse for a gossip and cake.”
He eyed the wine bottles again. “And tea?”
“Sometimes.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively, ending the topic of conversation.
“Dad seemed in good spirits today,” he said, subtly screwing the lid onto the bottle he opened and sliding it back into the wine rack. “I think tomorrow will go well.”
“Maybe,” she said, eyes still lost in her glass. Jonah sat down beside her.“Jonah, have you found a boyfriend yet?” she asked, tearing herself away from the tiny puddle of wine to look at her son. “Why can’t you fall in love and make me worry about you less?”
“Why would being in love make you worry about me less?”
“Because then I’d know you wouldn’t be lonely in London.”
“I’m not lonely.”
“You have friends?” She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “Outside of your job?”
“I’m still friendly with some of the previous casts and crew I’ve worked with. But it’s hard to make friends in London when you work the hours I do.”
“And hard to find a boyfriend.” She lifted the glass to her lips and finished the last few droplets of red. “Have you tried those dating websites? Cathy’s son found his girlfriend on one, and they are getting married next week.”
“That’s fabulous news for Cathy’s son. But, Mum, seriously, when I meet someone I will tell you.”
She scoffed and rubbed her hand over her eyes. “Right, well, I won’t hold my breath. I’m heading to bed. You staying down here?”
