Page 77 of Fe
“I have no idea what my mother would make of it.”
“Appalled like mine but secretly fascinated?”
“I doubt it.”
“Is she all right about you being gay?”
“I’m a disappointment because there won’t be any grandkids. There could be, of course, but the last thing I’d want to do is subject any child to my mother.”
The oven beeped and Fen checked the pizzas. “They’re done.”
“Shall I tackle the TV and find something to watch while we eat?” Ripley slid his pizza onto a plate, then did the same with Fen’s.
“I like QI.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Ripley scrolled through the channels. “I think you’re out of luck. Oh, no. There it is. It started ten minutes ago but…”
Fen almost lost his pizza to the floor as he carried it to the couch. What were the fucking chances? Luckily Ripley hadn’t noticed the near accident. But there was no way Fen could sit and watch his father smiling and making jokes.Arsehole!
“Maybe not this. Something else, please,” he whispered.
“I thought…”
Fen felt Ripley’s gaze on him and he tried his best to hide the distress creeping over him, but thought he’d probably failed. Ripley changed the channel and it was a game show.
“Better?” Ripley asked.
“Thank you.” Fen took a gulp of his wine. Then another. “Oh, the answer is ivory.”
“You’re right. That’s what’s used for scrimshaw. Or bone.”
The presenter turned to the next contestant. “According to Tolstoy, Napoleon would tug on what part of a person if they had done something he liked?”
Fen snorted.
“Their ear,” Ripley said. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“You’re right. But so wrong.”
“What colour spacesuits do NASA astronauts wear?” asked the presenter.
“Orange,” Fen and Ripley said at the same time.
“Dump, floater and wipe are terms used in which sport?”
There was loud laughter from the audience.
“Volleyball,” Ripley said.
“Wow, is it? I thought it was going to be something weird like mud wrestling.”
Fen was dimly aware more wine had appeared in his glass, but he was enjoying it so he kept drinking and eating.
“What’s the melting point of gold?” the presenter asked.
“1064 degrees Celsius,” Fen said.
Ripley clapped when the presenter confirmed Fen was right. “Impressive.”
