Page 7 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
“I never asked anyone to!”
“No—but they did it anyway!” His face is red and I’m unsure if it’s because of the matter at hand or all because of the shit I’ve caused. “They did it anyway, Arthur, because Mum’s right—we are a family! And now all I ask is that you be here for me like I was for you!”
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Boys!” Dad shouts, slapping the wooden coffee table.
Sebastian, forever the coward, shakes his head, walks out of the room.
I sit back down, breathing heavy.
Mum gets up, sits down next to Dad and touches his hand. “When should we tell him?”
Lock eyes with the pair of them. “Tell me what?”
Dad sighs, shakes his head. “Nothi—”
“No,” frown, “tell me.”
Mum folds her lips, dips her tongue out to wet them. “It’s um…it’s hard, Arthur.”
I pull back, lean against the back of the sofa. “What is?”
“This decision,” Mum starts, eyes cast down. “It wasn’t easy for us.”
“Just tell me.”
Rub my hands down my thighs, worried a bit for what they could say.
Dad sits forward, clasps his hands between his legs. “We think—me and your mum—think it would be a good idea for you to get your own place.”
My stomach dips. “What?”
“Oh God,” Mum mutters, hand covering her mouth.
“Look, Son,” Dad runs a hand down his face. “There’s a lot of bad memories here, yeah? You can agree on that, right? Lot of stuff has happened here and for you to recover and be the version we all want, a change of scenery would be good. There’s that and there’s also Evangeline we need to think about—I don’t know if she’s ready yet.”
“So,” I clear my throat, leaning forward. “Where am I to live?”
My hands are shaking at my sides, this unbridled anger curdling in my gut. Haven’t even been here for one night and already I’m fucking homeless?
“There’s so many places,” Mum smiles, trying to soften it all. “Kensington P—”
“Bad memories,” I laugh. “Bad fucking memories? You just said bad memories, did you not?” I point over at her. “And now you want me to live in a place that has bad memories growing like mold?”
Mum sucks in a sharp breath, bows her head. “It’s not that bad.”
“No,” I sniff. “Just the place my brother was last alive.”
“Arthur—” Dad cuts in. “You’re making this really difficult.”
“Oh, am I?” I pull back. “Well, sorry about that but I’ve just been made fucking homeless thanks to likes of you two!” I stand up, furious actually with them.
I shake my head, squeeze my eyes shut for a second. “You know, I thought coming back unannounced wasn’t a good idea but you’re my family—that bullshit united front you bang on about—so I thought you wouldn’t mind. Might’ve been happy to see me. Evangeline I get, she’s a child—but you two,” I wag my finger between them. “You’re a joke. I’m your son.”
“Arthur,” Mum sobs. “Please, darling.”
Put my hand up, don’t want to hear it. “No, it’s fine.”
