Alex woke up on a large sofa, nor really remembering getting back to the house or actually being undressed for bed. He stood up and took in the open ground floor with kitchen, breakfast bar, seating area and dining table with a large bifold door onto the patio. Then, Alex noted two doors to the right and prayed one was a bathroom. The elegantly curved, open stairs were positively the last thing he wanted to deal with this morning. The first door led into a small office with sofa, so probably doubled as a guest room. The next room was a small shower room. Alex pulled down a towel, stripped stood on his knees and got clean. Two days since his last decent wash, and he stank.
Alex then noted it was still really early just before 6am. If Alex could swing into Californian time today without naps he'd have worked through his jet lag. His bad reaction to the flight was caused by not sleeping either before flying or during the flight. Tony arrived downstairs 20 minutes after Alex had done battle with the un-adapted shower. He had already started a list of things needed to make like easier. A plastic stool would be a great help.
Tony then insisted on doctor's and dentist appointments, reiterating that he thought Alex had scurvy and not believing his son had eaten anything slightly nutritious since leaving Athens in September. Tony did not ask about details of Alex of his exploits. Just telling Alex that he had an interview scheduled with the CIA tomorrow and an introductory interview with a shrink later in the afternoon.
Alex was deemed physically fit, only his serious allergies being referred to a specialist and the dentist had suggested a trip to an orthodontist, making Alex severely self conscious of his teeth. Fucking Americans and their obsession with perfectly straight, white and beautiful teeth. Tony tried to placate Alex and explained it wasn't vanity, just looking your best. Of cause the actor had suffered at Eton while his teeth were encased in metal and straightened. Tony had emerged as a swan from being a small, overweight ugly duckling. Tony tried to explain these facts to his son. Alex whose image issues were deeply affected by his self hatred. A beautiful boy whose own reflection at times disgusted him.
The vegan restaurant on Mulholland lifted Alex's spirits somewhat. He ate tofu satay with fired rice and a side order of stirfried vegetables as Tony ate the house salad.
"You can ask me anything, papa. Don't treat me like I'll break." Alex asked wanting to get the awfulness of recriminations in the open and over with.
"I'm frightened you'll just tell me a whole list of things I'm going to hate knowing. I'm being an old woman. I want you to tell me it was all innocent and you've been happy and whole when I know we've both acted like injured animals hiding, hurting and lashing out."
"I've made some spectacularly bad decisions. Leaving home was number 1, but I couldn't live with Peter and Magda when you moved in with them. Even less so Aunty Sylvia, she made up with the rest of the Smith family at the funeral mass. Jesus, Tony, the fucking Smith's acted like they were grieving.. for a man they didn't know or want to know. At Loughborough, I fucked the first guy who showed an interest purely to ram home I hate ever single homophobic shit in the universe. How could these people reject Jon. He was wonderful, loving, understanding, smart and sneaky."
"He was all that. So who did you sleep with? Another swimmer or a fellow student?"
"The masseur, Craig. God, he turned out to be a creep. Just into casual sex. I used him, he used me. He back tracked so fast after he found out I was abused it was extremely funny." The wistful smile on Alex's face was paired with sad lost eyes.
"Except it wasn't was it. You felt rejected and it compounded your feelings of worthlessness. I have to admit I became a bit of a slut in New York. Casual sex never fills the hole caused by grief. I tried it when my mother died. It did not work then and it did not work after Jonny died either. " Tony looked at his son finally opening up. "So what happened next?"
"You were so distant at the National Championships. You had signed up to do two films back to back. No time for me. I spoke to Dylan and Peter. You were coping by being a workaholic. I copied. I put in for my A Levels and studied like mad. I got three A's and a B. I'd already been accepted by Cambridge. By July, I was pushing myself with training. Did not have much else to do, you left for New York. I wrote to Ash, heard nothing back. Not that I expected him to write back. He didn't come for Ian's funeral. He was meant to take my custody them, but didn't." Alex looked down. Tony could guess at the mix of emotions for Alex over that. Just another rejection to deal with. "Athens was OK. I met a guy on the South African team. A serious player, good in bed though. I like the sex, he was just into partying, nothing serious. Then I found out Ash had shot himself. I left." Alex took a long drink and pushed his plate away. "I went to Corfu. I got a job." A wonderful smile graced his son's face. "Richard was amazing. Open, honest, free, hard, truthful and a breath of fresh air. He worked like a demon. Such passion, talent and insight. In two months he painted more than he had in the last ten years. I was his muse, his model. I fell in love."
"Did he break your heart?" Tony asked quietly.
"No.. not that type of love. Not hard or all encompassing. No obsession or pain. It just was there. It played itself out. He called it a beautiful moment in time. I think he taught me a lot about life. It was like a plunge in ice cold water, shocking and refreshing. It gave me empathy and understanding. I think I've always been an outsider looking in on happy people, you know normal relationships. 2+2=4 whereas for me the answer was always 3 or 5, never right. In some ways I'm less of a head case. I'm sorry pop, but I think I grew up on you. I'm no longer a kid."
