Page 61 of The Himbo and the Lord

“Oh, look at them, they look so perfect together.” My mother’s voice cuts across the room as she enters with Jenna’s mum, Agatha.

“I don’t know how we didn’t see it before.” Agatha tilts her head to the side as if she’s looking at the cutest sight in the world, except she’s looking at us. I slowly turn my head to Jenna and see my own confused frown reflected back at me. She shrugs. She clearly has no idea what’s going on.

“It’s so exciting, Agatha,” my mother continues. “It’ll bethewedding of the season.”

“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” I demand. I glance at Petra but she just shakes her head, an indication that she has no clue what’s going on either. Jenna and I drop each other’s hands at the same time. Did she have the same awful thought as me?

I can’t ask her, though, as my father enters with hers right behind him. He looks almost happy, which arouses my suspicions immediately.

He goes straight to the decanters and pours a drink for them both. He gives one to Jenna’s father, Ronald, then raises his glass.

“I’d like to say to Ronald, Agatha, and of course Jenna. Welcome to the family.”

Terror grips my body and I can’t move. This is like some awful nightmare. It’s Jenna who acts first.

“What have you done?” She stands and faces her father.

Mine ignores her and turns to Ronald. “I think the engagement party should be at the end of September, before the weather turns, and then the wedding in May.”

Jenna whirls round to face her mother. “What’s happening?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear?” her mother says, coming over. “You’re going to marry Rupert. I don’t know why you’ve waited so long.” She gives me a smile that makes me feel nauseous.

“I will do no such thing!” Jenna shouts, her hands fisting by her sides.

“The announcement is going out in the Telegraph tomorrow. It’s all sorted. You should be pleased. We know you’ve been friends for a long time, you just needed a little push.”

I look down at my hands which are properly shaking now. A few minutes ago I was telling Jenna and Petra how much Nate meant to me, confessing how I was falling hard for him, and now this. It’s like a sick joke, but when I look around the room no one’s laughing.

I can’t let this happen.

I try to draw on some of the confidence Nate has. I slowly stand and make my way to the drinks tray, hoping my legs don’t give way on me. I pour a couple of fingers of whisky, neat, and down it in one before I turn round and face the room.

“No,” I say simply but loudly, and watch as all the eyes in the room swivel my way. I take a deep breath, thinking of how Nate would deal with this. He’d be truthful, like he was to his father. I owe it to him to be the same.

“No, I will not marry Jenna. She has no wish to marry me and I don’t want to marry her. I will not have you interfering in my life this way.”

My mother’s jaw drops in shock and I see my father’s face cloud over. I know he’s about to say something, and I will not let him talk over me. Not this time, not ever again.

“I’m already seeing someone, who means a great deal to me.”

“Oh, how wonderful. But why didn’t you say anything to us, Rupert?” My mother’s ability to recover herself quickly is staggering but born from years of never showing weakness in social situations. She’s as conditioned as the rest of us. “When are we going to meet her?”

“You’ll never meether, because she’s a he.” There, I’ve said it. I swallow and wish I had another drink in my hand.

“This is ridiculous,” my father says dismissively. “I thought you’d got all this out of your system years ago.” His eyes dart towards Ronald and I realise he’s embarrassed. Well, too bad.

“Out of my system?” I bark out, feeling better now I’ve finally voiced it. I’m on a roll. “You don’t get being gay out of your system. It’s who I am, who I’ve always been. I just wish I’d been honest earlier.”

My father gives me a thunderous look. “I will never let a gay son be head of this family!” he shouts, spittle flying from his mouth. The last thread of hope I had that things could be different snaps.

“Maybe I don’t want to be a part of this family anymore!” I shout back and push past him.

“Rupert,” he calls as I reach the door, my hand resting on the handle. “If you walk out that door—” I wrench the door open.

“Rupert,” he calls again, but it comes out as a gurgle, and then I hear a crash and a gasp. I turn around and see my father on the floor, his hand to his chest. His breathing is erratic and he’s gone grey. My mother reaches him first and crouches down next to him.

“Chester. Chester, can you hear me?” she calls, desperation in her voice. He turns his head to her voice but he doesn’t answer. She looks up at me. “Don’t just stand there Rupert, call an ambulance!”

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