Chapter 7

It was a few days later, on Saturday, and Ryan was at home when a knock on the door disturbed him from wondering if he'd upset Graham. If he'd asked something too personal. Particularly since he himself hadn't said what his type was. It was impossible really. He'd not thought about women enough to have a type. Men, on the other hand, he thought, after that lifeguard, and now Graham, maybe he might be interested in a certain man's body shape. If he was even going there. Calling it something. Looking at his reflection in the mirror and saying, ‘I am gay. I am a gay man. I am attracted to men.' He'd tried that last night and hadn't managed it. The word stuck in his throat. It was all wrapped up with what had happened in that car. How, when he'd gone home after meeting Graham, he'd tried to put that evening from years ago, out of his mind. But hadn't been able to.

The doorbell rang again. Three times.

Ryan strode to answer it.

His mum stood there, next to a man who looked old enough to be Ryan's grandad. He wore a brown hoodie made from some weird artificial fibre he'd only seen in internet lists about Nineties fashion. His trousers had pockets up the sides and zips so they could possibly be changed to shorts. Not that anyone would want two uses for a pair of trousers so ugly.

‘This is Dave,' his mum said, kissing Ryan's cheek, then indicating they should shake hands.

Ryan did so. Didn't want to look this man in the eye and the man evidently felt similar.

There was a silence that Ryan reckoned he could have driven an articulated lorry through.

Dave put his arm around Julia's shoulder.

She did the same. ‘Can we come in please? Unless you want us to stand on the doorstep all day.'

He stepped aside, and his mum led them into the kitchen.

‘Is it just you and Sam here?' she asked, looking about, she put her handbag on the table. ‘Aren't you going to make us drinks?'

‘You could have rung, Mum,' Ryan said, turning the kettle on, asking what they wanted to drink.

‘I don't need an invitation to come and see my own son, do I? After all, we did put you through university. I wanted to see what you're doing with your life. Finally getting into the workplace.' She leaned her elbows on the worksurface. ‘How is that?'

Ryan shrugged.

‘Well, between you and him, we're going to have a great chat.' She shook her head. ‘Dave's not too chatty either, are you, darling?'

She had used to call his dad that. Darling. And now she was using it for this man. All the confusing emotions swirled around inside his gut, and Ryan took a deep breath and ignored them.

Dave looked nervously at Julia and raised his eyebrows.

There was a long awkward silence.

‘I thought,' Julia said finally, ‘we could get to know each other. I feel like the go-between for you two. I talk to you about Dave, then I tell Dave about you. I thought we'd just sit down and talk it all out.' She looked from one man to the other. ‘At this rate, we'll be done by dinner time. If it's just me talking.'

‘There's a nice pub round the corner.' Ryan shrugged. It would save him cooking.

Julia made a face. ‘I've been papped twice this week already. They're trying to get anything on the engagement and wedding. Hiya! Magazine offered to pay for the wedding if we gave them exclusive on the photographs.'

‘I said go for it,' Dave said quietly. ‘She said not.'

‘Could they give you the money and you do what you like with it?' Ryan asked, his mind whirring away with possibilities.

‘Why?' Julia asked.

‘Nothing. Just Sam's got money problems. Well, his brother has. If there was any spare, I mean.' He shrugged. ‘Stupid idea.'

‘Stupid idea indeed, the contract would be very specific about what the magazine wanted for the money,' Julia said. She nodded at her fiancé. ‘He doesn't know what it's like. Being in the public eye. Not being able to put your bins out without someone taking a photo. I said he's got all this to come once we're married.'

‘You must be reasonably familiar, since you've been driving Mum to work for years.'

‘And other actors and actresses,' Dave said, not looking Ryan in the eye.

‘I would have thought, having worked for a TV studio you'd be used to how celebrities live in the public eye. You must have dropped a few off at red carpet events. Maybe even been papped yourself.'

‘I wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing. I didn't do the posh limo driving. I was just bog-standard home to studio, me.'

Brilliant. He seemed even more ordinary and dull than Ryan had anticipated. What on earth did his mum see in him?

A long silence.

‘Look, let's get some wine in and have a nice chat,' Julia said.

It sounded more like a threat than an evening's entertainment.

‘Where's Sam tonight? He can join us if he wants.'

‘He's with friends, playing sport.'

‘He can have a little drink when he gets back.'

‘Yeah. I'm sure he will.' Although his mum was famous, Sam had taken it in his stride when he first met her. Was very laid back and normal. She was, after all, still a mum and not some alien from outer space. He liked that about Sam. Wished he was there now actually, take away some of the monumentally awkward silences between them since Dave seemed to be the quietest man on earth.

‘I'll get some booze, shall I?' Dave asked.

Julia took cash from her purse, handed it to him.

He waved it away. ‘Red wine for you,' he said to Julia. Turning to Ryan he said, ‘How about you?'

‘Alcohol free lager please.'

Julia looked very disappointed. Clearly them all getting drunk was a key part of tonight's plan. ‘Why?'

‘Watching my units.' He rubbed his stomach.

‘You work it all off at the gym. What's really going on?' She turned to Dave. ‘That and normal lager.'

Dave nodded, then left.

‘I know he could do with a bit of a spruce up, but he's all right, isn't he?' She stared at him with pleading in her eyes.

Ryan couldn't shift the view that his mum could do so much better. So. Much. Better.

‘Little drink, break the ice and get to know each other. Shall I order food later? Or do you have something in?'

‘I can cook,' Ryan said. It would distract him from thinking about Dave.

‘You? Cook? Since when?'

‘Since realising living on takeaways wasn't sustainable. Both for my wallet and my waistline. Me and Sam take it in turns.' He pointed to a noticeboard with a rota for the week.

Julia walked closer, read it with interest. ‘Are you sure you two aren't secretly a couple?' She laughed. ‘I wouldn't mind. I'd like to see you settled down with someone. Man or woman, or whatever floats your boat. I don't mind. Everyone needs someone they can love.'

‘Until they don't,' Ryan said under his breath, as he looked in the fridge for ingredients for dinner.

‘What did you say?'

He'd make meatballs with tomato sauce and pasta. He told her. ‘All right?'

‘This I've got to see.'

‘You have such little faith in me,' he said.

‘Actually, it's because I have so much faith in you that I'm here. With Dave.' She sat at the kitchen table.

The message was clear. She wanted him to get on with Dave, and be happy for her. Was now the right time to mention the prenup, or too soon? He couldn't once Dave was back. Ryan was preparing the meat balls. ‘Can I just ask one thing, before he gets back?'

‘Course you can. I've got some good news about him too. But you go first.'

Good news about Dave, would the excitement never end,he wondered. ‘It's just something to think about,' Ryan said, ‘I know plenty of celebrities do it, people with assets from before. It's all very modern. Have you considered a prenup?'

‘Have I considered us splitting up before we've even got married?' She shook her head. ‘No. I haven't. He doesn't want my money. He's got plenty of his own. Saved, bought a little place in Spain. Owns his own home. Kept it in the divorce, his wife wanted other things. Big lump sum. Or something. Anyway, we don't talk about stuff like that.'

‘But you have to, Mum. You're not eighteen and starting out with nothing.'

‘You don't have to tell me that.' She turned away, folded her arms. ‘No. I'm not doing it.'

Well, that went well.‘What was your good news about Dave?'

‘I've managed to secure one of the best personal shoppers and stylists for Dave. He's starting next week and wants to discuss outfits for me too.'

Ryan felt something in his gut but he didn't want to voice it. The likelihood was surely pretty small. There must be loads of these personal shoppers and stylists working in London. Wasn't there? ‘Why?'

‘Why what?'

‘All of it. Why have a personal shopper? I imagine it wasn't Dave's idea.' Basing this on Dave's appearance felt so obvious Ryan didn't say it. Plus, he knew, even though Dave wasn't his favourite person, it was rude.

‘Dave knows, when we're married, he's going to accompany me to celebrity events, and he will inevitably be photographed and he wants to look his best. And, he admits, since the divorce he's…' Quietly now, she went on, ‘Let himself go a little. His ex-wife used to choose his clothes for him, update his wardrobe regularly. Since he's been on his own, he, well, he hasn't bothered. And he admits he let his self-care slip a bit since the divorce.'

You could see that very plainly. ‘Right,' Ryan said.

‘So, this is good news, isn't it?'

It would depend. On who this stylist person was. ‘When does she start, the stylist?'

‘He. Quite unusual in this field apparently. Next week. I said, didn't I?'

A man. Right. ‘What's his name?' Ryan asked with an inevitability he had no choice to avoid.

Julia removed a card from her purse, put on her reading glasses. ‘Oh, yes, and he said he thought, as part of David's styling will be for the wedding, he wanted to know what I was wearing, and the bridesmaids and page boys…so I told him. And do you know what he did?'

‘What did he do?' Ryan asked, with a sense of inevitability he felt uncomfortable about.

‘He said he'd like to discuss outfits for me too, since they would have to go with Dave's wedding one, and our going away outfits, for the honeymoon, so he's offering a sort of two for the price of one, well, not quite. But a discount anyway. He's all about doing a good job for the client, so he always goes the extra mile. All the testimonials on his website, and everyone who's been his client say so.' She stared at the card. ‘Graham Bartley.' Looking up, she said, ‘Have you heard of him?'

Fuck. My. Life. ‘You could say that.'

‘Great,' she said, ‘because as I'd like you to walk me down the aisle, I didn't tell you that one, did I? Yes, if you're okay with that. Can't ask your father, as that's more than a bit strange. Obviously, my father isn't around, so I thought of you. My favourite son.'

‘What does Sophie say about it?' he asked.

‘She's my maid of honour, and she's in charge of flowers and bridesmaids. Oh, and of course, she's joining us for the wedding outfits sessions, with Graham the stylist. Diaries permitting. I know she's so busy with work.'

Ryan was lost for words. The only saving grace was that he hadn't actively disliked Graham. They had got on all right. But what he wasn't sure of, or prepared for, was having to see Graham again, and how he'd handle the fact that deep down, beneath his subconscious, where his libido seemed to reside, he really wanted to know Graham in a much more intimate way.

‘So, what do you say?' Julia asked.

‘Great,' he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, then plastered on a big fake smile. ‘Really great.' For. Fuck's. Sake.

There was a knock on the door.

Ryan answered it.

Dave was carrying bags of booze.

Ryan grabbed the lager. ‘Thanks.'

‘That's not the alcohol-free one,' Dave said, following him to the kitchen.

‘I know.' As far as Ryan was concerned, this was just getting worse and worse. It had turned from a minor irritation, concern about his mum's financial and social welfare, to a full-on awkward situation where he was going to find himself in the presence of a man who he…he…what would he say…how would he describe it? Who he was fascinated by, yet also knew he couldn't have, be with, because the last thing Ryan wanted was a relationship, especially one with a man. Because he was definitely not gay, or bisexual.

He finished the bottle of lager. ‘I think I'll have another one,' he said, opening it and taking a large swig.

‘Isn't this good,' Julia said, pouring herself wine, and making sure Dave had a drink.

Brilliant. Ryan toasted, with whatever his mum was saying, he wasn't listening, all he was thinking about was if he was more afraid of a relationship with Graham going well, and enjoying it, proving he was that way inclined, and capable of a loving relationship, or going as badly as with that girl from university, and therefore proving romance and love weren't for him.

And by that evening, after all the booze was drunk and they had eaten a curry his mum had ordered, and they lay down on the sofa and chairs in the sitting room, their stomachs full and feeling more than a little drunk, he still didn't have an answer to that question.

Fuck my actual life,was his last thought, before he fell asleep.