The problem was, he’d said that about every shirt, and he’d tried twelve—nearly making us not ridiculously early in the process. “For the last time, the shirt is fine.” I stopped and tugged him round so we were facing each other. “You know, we can go home if you want to?”

He looked at me as if I’d suggested a murder-suicide pact. “We’ve barely got here. What would my parents think?”

“Right now, I don’t really care. All I know is that being here is making you unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy. It’s my parents’ anniversary. I’m not…handling things very well.”

I wasn’t sure how to say “You’re not handling things very well because your parents are being arseholes to you.” I wasn’t even sure it was my place. So instead I tried, “I don’t think it’s you. I mean, Christopher isn’t exactly covering himself in glory either.”

“Christopher is always covered in glory. At least as far as our parents are concerned.”

“You mean, apart from the fact they keep pressuring him to have kids when he clearly doesn’t want kids?”

“That’s aimed at me, not him. My parents are very understanding about my sexuality, but I can’t help but be aware that it has come with attendant disappointments.”

“Look”—I flung up my hands—“this is purely hypothetical because it is way too early in the relationship for this conversation, but if you want kids, you can have kids.”

“You mean, I could adopt children. That’s not the same thing. At least, not from my parents’ perspective.”

Okay, this was a whole other can of problematic worms. And now was not the time to open it. “You see, this is why you need queer friends. If you knew more gay people, you could always cut a deal with a lesbian.”

“If you’re trying to be funny, Lucien, this is in poor taste.”

“Sorry, that got flippant. I’m just trying to say that you can live your life however you want. And your parents’ expectations shouldn’t factor into that. And I’ll bet you any money you like that Chris and Mia are having this exact same conversation right now.”

He iced up. “I very much doubt that.”

“Oh for—”

A fork tinkled against a glass and we dutifully drifted over the patio, where David and Miriam were standing with about-to-make-a-speech faces on. Joy.

“Thank you,” began David, “thank you all for coming to help Miriam and myself celebrate our Ruby Wedding Anniversary. I remember the evening all those years ago when I walked into our common room at the LSE, and I saw the most ravishing woman I’d ever imagined sitting across the way from me. And I said to myself, right then, that’s the lady I’m going to marry.” A pause. A joke was coming, wasn’t it? Rumbling towards us like a disappointing freight train. “And Miriam was two seats away from her.”

We all laughed dutifully. Except Uncle Jim, who seemed to find it legitimately hilarious.

“Of course we didn’t get on at first, because anybody who knows Miriam knows that she’s—shall we say—a woman of strong opinions. But she soon warmed to me once I started pretending to agree with her about everything.”

Another round of polite laughter. I thought Uncle Jim might actually piss himself.

“Over our forty years of marriage, we’ve been blessed with two wonderful sons—”

“And Oliver and Christopher,” I murmured under my breath.

“—and Oliver and Christopher. But, seriously, we’re tremendously proud of both our boys, one a doctor, one a lawyer, but somehow neither of them making any bloody money.”

Laughter again. Uncle Jim literally slapped his thigh.

“Over the years our family has continued to grow, our most recent addition being the lovely Mia, Christopher’s wife, and also our last best hope for grandchildren on account of Oliver being a screaming bender.”

I stifled a sigh. You see, it’s okay because it’s the ironic kind of homophobia.

“But enough about the boys,” David went on. “Because today is about Miriam and myself. And I, for one, couldn’t ask for a more beautiful wife. I mean, I could ask, but I probably wouldn’t get one.” He lofted a glass. “To Miriam.”

We obediently Miriamed back.

“To David.” Miriam’s speech at least had the virtue of being short.

“To David,” we echoed.

While I put an arm around Oliver and looked for a hole we could hide in.

Chapter 46

The afternoon, well, it happened, dragging itself along like a dog with worms. I handled it by standing meekly at Oliver’s side while he made polite small talk with various friends and relatives. It was boring as fuck but it would have been okay if I hadn’t also had to watch him getting quieter and smaller with every conversation. Maybe I’d had too much champagne but, honestly, it felt like losing him. And all I wanted was to get him back home where he could be prissy or grumpy or funny or secretly wicked. Where he could be my Oliver again.

Eventually, we ended up back on the patio. Miriam and David were holding court from a set of fancy garden furniture, and Oliver and Christopher had just presented them with their joint anniversary gift—a pair of ruby earrings for her, a pair of ruby cuff links for him, which had been offered with an awkward sense of obligation and received with complacent gratitude. Fun times.

“Oliver, darling.” Miriam patted the space beside her. “It’s so nice to be able to catch up.” She glanced to Uncle Jim who, somehow, contrived to always fucking be there. “He hardly speaks to us, you know. At least with Christopher it’s because you know he’s saving babies in some dreadful malaria-ridden swamp.”

Oliver settled in beside her. There was nowhere for me, of course, so I perched on the arm, which drew me an immediate look of disapproval. I briefly considered getting up out of respect, but I’d been on the fast lane to fuck it all afternoon and had just crossed the border.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. “I know I’m not saving babies, but I have had rather a lot going on.”

Miriam’s eyes alighted on me very briefly, and then skittered away. “So I see. What happened to the other fellow?”

“Andrew and I broke up.”

“Shame. He seemed like such a nice young man.”

“It wasn’t working out.”

“I suppose”—she paused frankly indelicately—“it’s more difficult in your situation. I mean, you have to be so careful.”