Page 184 of The Long Way Home

Forty-Five

BJ

Hen and I got called to Mum and Dad’s for lunch today.

With our girlfriends.

Without our sisters.

Mum said she gave them her card to go shopping to get them out of the house.

“Give Jordan a break,” she whispered to me on the phone.

Henry’s still not really speaking to me. Barely said a word on New Year’s or at brunch. Guessing that’s what this is about.

Mum said it was to get to know our girlfriends better, but Taura’s not Henry’s girlfriend yet and she knows Jordan just fine.

Mum goes twitchy when Henry and I are off, mostly because it’s only happened a few times in our lives.

We’re pretty shit-free brothers. When he found out I cheated on Parks, he stopped speaking to me for a bit. Same day I beat the shit out of Christian, so that might have also factored into it. When he found out it was with Paili he actually hit me.

And when I overdosed he was weird with me for a while. Fair enough, I guess. He’s pretty level-headed. If he’s off me, I probably deserve it. Don’t tell him though.

We arrive at the same time, and the girls swap hellos.

I nod him hey, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t be a prick.” Taura flicks him.

“Nah, that’s his job,” he says as Mum opens the door, throws her arms around us.

“Darlings!”

She kisses both our cheeks, then Jordan’s cheek, then Taura’s.

“Darling’s darlings. Cornish hens are in the oven,” she calls back to us as she leads us in to the house. My favourite. “With potato gratin.” Henry’s favourite.

She leads up into the company-only living room. Henry and I catch eyes. We’re (nearly) twenty-five and (nearly) twenty-six respectively and could count on one hand the amount of times we’ve been allowed in the posh living room. “Your dad’s drumming up some cocktails in the bar. Talk amongst yourselves.”

I wait til she leaves.

“The good living room!” Henry blinks. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t touch anything,” I tell the girls in a serious voice, only 50% joking.

Tausie watches me, doesn’t break eye contact as she pokes the antique Russian Fabergé silver gilt and enamel frame with a photo of the old Tsar in it that someone gave to my mum years ago as a wedding present. Mum doesn’t know why she was given it and it’s become a family joke.

I roll my eyes at Taurs and she sits back, visibly pleased with herself.

Jordan peers between us.

“You two used to sleep together, yeah?”

Henry does a couple of big blinks, leans in, says under his breath, “Here we go…”

“Sorry.” Jordan flashes him a little smile then turns to Taura. “But you were, right? Sleeping with him?”

“I mean—” Taura catches my eye then rolls hers. “It was a long time ago now. But yeah, I was. Until I realised he’s hideously in love with Magn—” She catches herself. Face freezes.

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