Page 21 of Fe
Fen got to his mum’s at eleven thirty on Sunday morning. After he’d woken, he’d spent forty minutes doing ballet exercises, using the handle on the wardrobe as a barre. Even now, nine years after he’d left the Royal Ballet school, he missed dancing. The creeping awareness he was able to do less and less made his heart ache, but he wasn’t going to stop doing what he could.
Usually, monthly Sunday lunch at his mum’s place was for the two of them, but he could see both Alistair and Charles’s cars in the parking area at the foot of the block of flats. His heart pounded a little faster as he went up in the lift, but his mum had said it wasn’t anything bad, so…
She opened the door before he reached it and pulled him into her arms. “Hello, sweetheart. You look well!”
She said the same thing every time she saw him, regardless of how he looked. She was a great believer in positive reinforcement.
“Hello, Mum.” Fen handed her the sunflowers he’d bought. Her favourites.
“Oh they’re lovely! You shouldn’t have, but thank you. I’ll put them in some water. Hang up your coat and go on through into the main room.”
“Why are—?”
“Wait and see.” But she smiled so it wasn’t going to be bad news.
Scott and his mum, Diana, were there. Scott stood by the window messing around on his phone. The other three were talking. Alistair smiled at him, Charles and his wife didn’t.
Alistair pushed to his feet. “Hi, Fen. What can I get you to drink?”
“Some water would be great, thank you.”
Alistair disappeared, no one spoke, and Fen stood there, feeling awkward.
“Do sit down,” Diana pushed to her feet.
What might have been perceived as a gesture of kindness—wasn’t. There were other places to sit. He didn’t need her chair.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She dropped back into her seat.
“Scott tells me you have an invite to a private event at the Tate,” Charles said. “The Japanese exhibition. How on earth did you get that?”
“It’s obviously from that dude who bought the Japanese globe.” Scott shot him a smug look.
Smartarse.Fen shrugged. “I don’t know who sent it. Maybe Mum.”
“What have I done?” She walked in carrying the vase of sunflowers and put them on the windowsill.
Alistair handed Fen a glass of water.
“Did either of you get Fen an invite to the pre-opening of the Japanese ceramics exhibition at the Tate?” Charles asked. “No? Then it’s the man who paid for the kintsugi piece without even haggling. He was trying to impress you. Looks like he’s still trying.”
Fen’s mum came up close to him. “Is he someone special?”
She looked so excited and Fen hated to spoil her delight, but… “No.”
“If he’s in the market for more Japanese pottery, we need him coming back to us,” Charles said. “You did sound knowledgeable about it.”
Fen bit back his irritation.
“Fen knows more than any of us,” Alistair said.
Charles huffed. “The man is obviously not a boyfriend, so who is he?”
Fen couldn’t help himself. “Why shouldn’t he be a boyfriend?”
Charles laughed. “Fen! Look at you. Look at him. He’s just saying thank you for handing back that lot.”
