Page 76 of Glow
“Thank you, darling. I knew I could rely on you. I’ll get a hotel tomorrow, I promise.”
She was his mother after all. Although he would be straight on the phone to his father to fix this mess by Monday.
“I like your hair,” he said.
She was blonder than ever. If that were possible.
“I like yours too,” she replied.
They both burst into laughter.
“You’re a nightmare,” he said, wiping his eye.
“Who was the guy that bolted like a rabbit on speed?” she asked.
“Prin? A friend.”
“You took your time saying goodbye. Just a friend, is he?”
Scott sighed. “If you must know, I’ve started seeing him. He’s amazing and I’ve not fucked it up yet. Thankfully, I work with him or he’d probably ghost me after your performance tonight.”
She took hold of his hand. “He seems very nice. A bit jittery perhaps.”
Her lack of self-awareness had always been legendary.
“Thank you, mother. I’ll pass on your feedback.”
“I’m glad you’ve found a nice man,” she continued.
“It’s very new,” Scott replied. “But yeah, I’ve got a good feeling about it.”
“Better than that pig, Toby.”
“Much better than him. Let’s face it, that makes it a low bar.”
She squeezed his hand. “I hope he’s what you’ve always wanted, darling.”
“Me too.”
“And let’s hope you never walk in your lounge to find him wanking.”
TWENTY
PRIN
Prin had got up early and immediately thrown himself into giving his flat a deep clean. When he’d been growing up in his uncle’s house, they’d had staff to do most things. Not that they were vastly wealthy or anything. His uncle had lived the life of a bachelor until the accident that claimed Prin’s parents. So he’d found himself some decent staff to keep up the place.
To be fair, he hadn’t changed much after Prin was forced upon him. He’d simply hired a nanny and given Prin one of the bedrooms in the family home, deep in the suburbs. Life, for Uncle Decha, had carried on pretty much as normal. He wasn’t cruel. More distant.
That wasn’t to say that Prin didn’t have friends and parties and fun. It was more he always knew he was a guest in that house. When he’d lost his parents, he’d lost his home.
When Prin had moved to Leeds, he had discovered the therapeutic qualities of making a home of his own. He took great pleasure in making it as nice as possible with the possessions he’d brought from home. Even though he’d rented a soulless modern box in the city centre.
He shivered when he remembered the feeling that first night as he’d lain in bed surrounded by the things he’d bought to decorate. Finally the king of his own castle.
Sadly, he’d had to leave Bangkok so quickly when he returned to the UK he hadn’t had a chance to bring as many things. He wished he could make his Brighton abode as personal. Scott must have thought he lived a basic life. When Prin had visited Scott’s flat, it was bursting with character. Maybe he should go back and visit Nanny. He could try and get some of his possessions without seeing his uncle.
Nanny’s words came back to him. What if Uncle Decha was sick? Part of Prin wanted to see him. Then he remembered that last conversation. Uncle Decha had accused him of bringing shame onto the family name. Prin screwed his eyes tightly shut. He had spent the last twelve months trying to forget that hideous argument. Yet, it still came back to haunt him on regular intervals.
