Page 188 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
I shrug my lips. “Just some of your work.”
“Yeah?” She comes over to my side, I put my arm around her shoulders. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m really fucking proud that you managed to do this while I was gone.”
“It was hard, but I did it. It took my mind off a lot of things. I started by modelling for my mum but—”
“I know.”
“What?” She looks up at me.
“Well,” I wave my hand about. “Collected all your magazines, didn’t I?”
She pulls away from me slightly, my arm still around her, and grins. “You did what?”
I wipe away my smile. “Yeah. Subscribed to all the big ones so I didn’t miss them.”
“Why?” She looks bewildered.
“I had to know what you were up to.”
“You didn’t have access to the internet?”
“No. My only form of entertainment was actually reading the paper every morning, can you believe it? They got rid of the Page 3 girls.”
She scrunches her face up, hits my chest. “Perv.”
I laugh and then we leave, back into the car and over to my parents.
Delphine answers the door as usual, embraces Phoebs, gives her a kiss.
“They’re in the living room,” she tell us, taking our coats.
“How are they?”
She looks at me, sighs a bit. “They’re good, they’re okay.” And then she smiles, points at me. “Just don’t rile them up.”
“When have I ever done that, Delphine?”
She rolls her eyes, slaps my arm.
“Phoebe!” Mum gasps when we walk in. She goes straight over to her, wraps her up in a hug. “Long time no see, my darling.”
Phoebe smiles, bows her head when Mum pulls back. Dad sits on the couch, hand rubbing his jaw as he stares at us.
“It hasn’t been that long,” Mum tuts. “No need for formalities.”
High tea has been set out on the coffee table between the couches and she waves us over. Phoebe sits next to Mum while I sit opposite, besides Dad.
“So,” Mum claps. “Where to begin?”
“When are you getting married?” Dad interrupts before anyone can say anything else.
Phoebe’s cheeks go beetroot red and I turn to face him. “What?”
“Well,” he shrugs, sits forward. “Before babies, marriage comes, does it not?”
“Oh,” Phoebe shakes her head, pulls an uncomfortable face. “We’re—I’m—not pregnant, Benjamin.”
