Page 21 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
Fucking perfect.
We walk into the reception, Nan is sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea. She spots me standing there, puts her cup down and smiles.
It’s so rare to see my nan smiling how she is now. It’s genuine. Puts me on edge a bit.
“Arthur,” she says almost wistfully. “Come sit with me, have some tea,” she waves me over.
Mum walks out of the room, I sit on the opposite sofa and pour myself a cup even though it’s the last thing I want to do. All I planned on doing was getting my stuff and going. Even when I did live here, I hated being here longer than I had to. Getting thrown out might have been a blessing in disguise.
“How are you?”
“Good, yeah.”
“And where are you living now? I hope wherever it is, it’s treating you well, yes?”
I glance around the room expecting to see other people pop out—my dad or my grandad or people who work for her.
My nan laughs, that quiet little polite laugh. “I’m here informally, Arthur. We can talk openly.”
“Uh,” clear my throat again. “I’m living with Connie—Constance Holland.”
I clench my jaw, wait for it to come.
Takes a second but then she hisses, puts her cup back down.
“Matthew Holland’s son?” She asks with her eyes squinted.
“That one, yes,” I nod stiffly.
As you could probably imagine, my grandparents aren’t my friends biggest fans. Although close in a way I’ll probably never understand with the Stratton’s, it took some warming up to do when I first announced who I was hanging around with.
Even now my parents are on edge when I mention Connie or Bliss’s name. Spencer, they don’t mind because she’s Spencer and Phoebe they love because she isn’t a fuck up like me. The twins, they’ve always been funny around. I don’t know why and neither do they, I don’t think.
“I trust you’re not partying anymore.”
“No, not anymore. I’ve been sober for just over two years.”
“Well done you,” she nods in approval. “What are your plans now? University, perhaps?”
I wonder if she isn’t bringing Sebastian up because she doesn’t want to believe it. Sebastian’s always been the golden one, always been the one fighting with us for the invisible approval of our family—and he fucking got it. If his scandal was mine, I’d have my title revoked and my arse shipped away to another country.
“No, I don’t plan on university.”
I wait for the second wave of shame to hit me.
“Well, why not?” She asks in a bit of a condescending way. “Everyone in our family has gone. You can’t just break a tradition.”
“It’s just not for me,” I say quietly, hanging my head slightly.
“So, what do you plan on doing, then? You can’t just sit around doing nothing, Arthur.”
I pop my head up, don’t even think about it. “I’m gonna marry her.”
My nan pulls back, eyes wide. “Who?”
“Phoebe,” I say with little to no shame. “I’m going to marry her.”
Definitely should’ve thought about it.
