Rose Beam’s Diary

Rose Beam’s Diary

22nd June 1985

Thom showed up for dinner forty-five minutes late and with a black eye. I almost turned him away at the door, but Dad came through and saw he was here. I didn’t get much chance to ask what had happened before Mum came bustling out to take his coat, but from what I gather he owed someone some money and was late with the payment, so they beat him up. It’s fricking barbaric, the way some people behave. Seeing his beautiful face interrupted made me feel sick to my stomach. Mum and Dad studiously ignored the bruised eye, and for once I felt proud of their faultless manners. And although the Beef Wellington was a bit cold (I didn’t mind − I’ve been so queasy with nerves these past days), all in all, lunch was pleasant. Dad asked lots of questions about Thom, what his father did, what his plans for the future are. Nothing they haven’t asked Nigel flippin’ Pemberton. Thom did his best, and I’m certain he charmed Mother with his outlandish tales of the theatre. How could he not? He’s the most charming person in the world, and clever with it. Later on, Thom went for drinks in Dad’s study while Mum and I did the dishes.

After Thom left, I was all giddy and excitable and asked Mum and Dad what they thought of him. Dad said he seemed like a pleasant chap and Mum said he was very handsome, but she said it with a very odd look on her face. Then they disappeared to bed without saying much else. They’re not fawning over him yet. Yet! But there’s time to convince them! At least they’ve stopped going on about stupid Pemberton. Hurrah!