PHILIP
Mum and dad married in haste, catching a plane to Vegas on a whim after mum found out she was expecting me. Mum had been doing an exchange, for the final year of her PhD in Literature, at Columbia when she met Dad. Dad was English too. He was working on Broadway with a small contingent of the Royal Shakespeare Company in the production of Romeo and Juliet. Dad always said it was love at first sight; mum just said she loved him long before they met. They had been dating for five months when they found out they were unexpectedly expecting me.
Mum had feared that Gran would make her get rid of me and dump dad, who she was head over heels in love with. So, on a whim, right there in Prospect Park, dad proposed they get married. The following weekend, they ran off to Vegas to get hitched.
Mum went back to London at the end of that summer with a ring on her finger, dad on her arm, four and a half months pregnant, and her PhD in hand. There was nothing Gran could do by then. Mum had her PhD, and they were already married. They had me, just shy of seven months after they were wed. When I was just shy of the age of one, Mum had Beatrice, and when I was four, they had Henry. Irish twins, dad had always joked.
Dad went on, continuing his work in acting. He did small indie films before a couple of sitcoms and West End productions. He was then cast as the new James Bond and overnight our lives changed. Dad was on film sets or doing media work for eight, sometimes nine or ten months of the year. Often away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and Mum started working as an English literature professor at London University, as soon as Henry was old enough for school.
The media were relentless. Following us around as a family, when Dad was home. Following him around when he wasn't. Then there were the rumours that the media and paparazzi made up about him to sell magazines and newspapers.
Rumours of Dad partying. Drug use from said parties. Alcohol abuse. Women. Men. Heartless, hurtful accusations of infidelity, alleging our father was sleeping with co-stars off screen simply because they had good chemistry on screen. All of it was false, of course. Dad was a naturally affectionate person and mum would always say he was oblivious that his behaviour could be construed as flirtatious.
Dad had to buy a property in the middle of nowhere, in the Welsh countryside, just so we could spend holidays together without being stalked, harassed, or papped spending time together as a family.
Llwynywermod.
Our country home. We all love it there. But Dad loves it there, the most. It's somewhere out of the way and away from the British nobility and aristocratic social lifestyle that Gran is so fond of. Dad often reminisces that it reminds him of the holiday cabin his parents owned, when he was a small boy in Cardiff.
Then there were his fans. Most of them were nice and respectful. Even if they did approach us during family time, interrupting our precious time with him. But there were a few crazy ones too. One fan followed our father all the way to Los Angeles and back. Another time, our father had to hire private security for Mum and us three children because a crazed fan had made threats against us. When each of us reached eighteen years old, the media would catch wind of one of us doing something and we would find ourselves on page six, and in front of Gran for a dressing down. Mum would try to look stern but fail miserably. Dad wouldn't even bother to try. He'd just smile and say something positive, but impactful and thought provoking. Before hugging us tightly, and reminding us that he and mum loved us, no matter what.
Despite my father's protests, and my mother's vocal opposition, Gran would wear them down and every summer, Bea, Henry and I were forced to spend two weeks alone with Gran, at her country estate near the royal Sandringham estate. Instead of being allowed the freedom to relax or enjoy our summer break, we were forced into etiquette lessons, horse-riding lessons, and music lessons, which was fine for Bea and Henry, but I had no musical ability whatsoever. While Henry and I were forced to learn to play polo, Bea was forced to sit through countless hours of finishing school, where she and other young women received training on social graces and the etiquette of high society. Gran had planned for us to all marry into nobility or up the social hierarchy to further her own status.
I was educated at Eton and chose to go into the army afterwards. However, a bad fall during a training exercise shattered my ACL and with rest and rehabilitation required, I still couldn't return to my peak fitness. Thus, I was medically discharged, and I enrolled myself at London university. Which was where I met Martha. She was doing her arts and business degree. We fell in love, almost instantly, and dated two years before I proposed. We wed a year and a half ago.
Much to both of our dismay, as well as my parents and Martha's father, our wedding ended up being a spectacle. The photos were splashed across the society pages because of her mother and my grandmother. My Martha had been Lady Martha Fitzroy, of the noble Fitzroy family. Although she had already rejected her title before we started dating, just like my mother did when she married dad. Previously, mum had been Lady Catherine Mountchristen-Windsor. Now, mum is Catherine, or Professor Fox and Martha is simply, Martha Fox.
My sister Beatrice or Bea for short, is one of the most gifted musicians I've ever seen. Even if I'm a little biased. I can't be too biased if she's playing cello in packed houses at the Royal Albert Hall with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. She might play the cello professionally, but Bea is prolific in every instrument she's ever touched. A true talent. She found her love of music at Benenden School for Girls in Kent, where she went to school. Upon her graduation from Benenden, she was accepted to study music at the Royal Academy of Music in London.
Henry was always different from the rest of us. He was quiet and introverted. He would get upset easily and always seemed to be lost in a book. Sometimes Mum or Bea could pull him out of his thoughts, but Dad was the best at it, by far. Dad and Henry were close from the moment he was born. Like me, Henry went to Eton as well. He was the top of his class, and he went on to study at Oxford University, where he studied English literature, like our mum. He did his master's degree there too. After university, Henry went to work at a small independent publishing house as a fiction editor. His dream job was getting paid to read books and take notes. He was very good at it too. Recently, he has been doing some guest reporting for the arts and culture section in the London Tribune. Mostly writing book reviews and reviews for plays opening on the West End.
One glaring difference between myself, Bea, and Henry was that Henry had always liked boys. We all suspected as much before then, because Henry had never shown any interest in dating girls. We knew for sure when Henry was fifteen and he came out, but Gran was furious when Henry came out to her, but mum and dad put a stop to that.
Admittedly, I didn't respond as well as I should have and that was on me. It took some time for me to sort myself out. Under gran's influence too much. I took some time, sought out a therapist after a verbal altercation with Henry that left my brother cowering in fear from me. With time and therapy, I moved past it. I accepted Henry, and made amends with him. Surprisingly, this is the closest we've ever been and we have a wonderful sibling relationship now.
At Eton though, Henry met and became friends with Percy Okonjo. Or Pez, as they are lovingly called by our family. If Henry is the epitome of an introvert, then Percy is the perfect example of an extrovert. Percy was our first foray into sexuality and identity using the pronoun of they/them and has been Henry's best friend since their very first day at Eton. Percy didn't label their sexuality, just referred to oneself as open-minded, but they were definitely unique. I couldn't be sure if it was all for show or not, but Percy would always come over when gran visited. They would make sure they were dressed in their most flamboyant clothes, hair always sprayed another colour, and he would pitch their voice higher.
The thing with Percy was that they liked people. They were very sociable and affable. We hadn't really ever had much to say to one another over the years, since Henry and Percy had become friends. However, there was one point where we wholeheartedly agreed. We both did not like Jack Neeson.
Jack was Henry's boyfriend and a fellow student at Eton and Oxford. Henry had dated him all through his senior year and into his first year at Oxford. There was always something about him that rubbed both Percy and me the wrong way. Both of us told Henry he was no good, but Henry was in love with the boy. Neither of us realised how bad it had gotten once they started at Oxford.
On winter break in his first year, Henry called home for dad, late one night. So late, it was actually closer to dawn than night. Dad, having an early call time, had already left for the film set. Mum woke me up, telling me Henry was on the phone. And he kept asking for Dad or me. Henry never called for me unless dad was unavailable and when he told me what had happened, my blood was boiling. I remember flinging myself out of bed and calling Percy to meet me. Mum had all but demanded to come and I felt awful for snapping at her "no", but I didn't want her to see Henry until I had seen him and I didn't want her anywhere near Jack.
I was going to kill Jack Neeson.
Percy is the one who eventually talked me out of it and talked me into letting the police deal with it. But I wanted to kill him and I had never wanted to kill anyone before that. It would have been worth the prison time too.
It was well into the daylight hours of the morning when Henry, Percy, and I returned to our family home. Only to find that Mum had called Dad and he had rushed home from the set, still in his costume. They were waiting for us in the living room. Percy helped me carry him upstairs and put Henry into his bed, giving him his pain medication and a sleeping tablet he had been prescribed by the doctor at the hospital. Dad had been angry, boiling mad, livid, and filled with rage when he saw Henry. All Percy had done was put his finger to his lips to tell them to be quiet and wait. Once he was settled, I left Percy with Henry and went downstairs.
Explaining to our parents that the asshole Jack had come to Henry's dorm room from a frat party on campus. He was blind drunk, loud, and had woken Henry up. Proceeding to berate and abuse him for being in bed after midnight and not staying awake and waiting for him. He had launched himself at Henry, accusing him of not loving him anymore before beginning to trash Henry's room. The dorm mates on the same floor managed to call campus security, but not before Jack took his frustrations and anger out on Henry's body. He lunged at Henry and punched him repeatedly in the face, nose and cheeks, before putting his hands on his neck and squeezing tightly around it, choking him. Campus security called the police for Jack and an ambulance for Henry. Henry had lost consciousness, very briefly, from a lack of oxygen. I arrived at the hospital, just after the ambulance that had Henry inside. The police charged him and Jack also had to face the disciplinary board. Eventually he got kicked out of Oxford.
When Henry insisted on returning to Oxford in the new year, Dad set him up in an apartment off campus in Mum's maiden name, so Jack couldn't find him. Mum and Dad made sure to choose a building with a security desk and a 24-hour manned door. Henry was still not feeling safe, so Percy gave up his London apartment and transferred into the Oxford business program to move in with Henry. After two weeks of living with Henry, Percy called home and told mum and dad they needed to get Henry into therapy. He was not coping.
That was how Henry got diagnosed with anxiety and depression as well as PTSD. His therapist recommended that he get an emotional support dog, which is how he ended up with an overweight beagle puppy named David. It was ironic when a month into owning David, Henry was home for the weekend with him, as was I and Kensington was hit with a rather large storm. Henry still suffered mentally, latching onto David in fear, only to find something wrong with him. Henry had selected the only emotional support animal that had his own anxieties too. They were perfect for one another.
That led me to a particular day, about three years ago now. It had been a long and arduous day at work. I wanted nothing more than to go home and cuddle up with my pregnant wife. But I couldn't. In six months' time, it would have been mum and dad's wedding anniversary. They would be celebrating 30 years of wedded bliss, and the night before that particular day, Dad had surprised Mum with a second wedding proposal. A chance to renew their vows. Something that he had been promising her since they had hastily wed, all those years ago. The time had finally come. They wanted a family meeting over dinner to discuss what they wanted out of their vow renewal.
At least our baby was planned, I often joke with my parents. Dad has a great sense of humour and takes it in stride. As does mum, but since dad's near-miss with cancer three years ago, sometimes the joke falls too flat. Like Henry, mum too has depression. Something she only recently was diagnosed with, despite having had the problem for as long as she could remember.
That particular day was a lot. I work in our business. Mine and Martha's, that is. Martha is my wife, and she has her own line of clothing. Dresses and pant suits, everything from after five, and evening wear to business casual. She does the design and handles her teams, the manufacturing and the launches. I handle all of the business side of it. The money, the permits, the Human Resources and legal. I think of how a lot of companies are calling HR "talent acquisition" now, and I roll my eyes in disbelief. But there is one thing that I can't do, and that is the legal stuff. I can't write contracts or do copyright law. We need a solicitor for that.
Instead of focusing on the financials like I really needed to, I had spent the day interviewing every solicitor who had applied for the job. I haven't spoken to as many pompous pricks since my grandmother's last garden party for her birthday. They were all stuffed suits, except for one. His name was Alexander Claremont-Diaz, Esq.
He was unlike any solicitor I had ever met; any other person I had ever met, if I was honest with myself. Clearly, he had done his homework about our company. For one, he came to the office dressed in chinos and an oxford with a black canvas messenger bag over his left shoulder. He wasn't wearing a Tom Ford suit, costing more than a month's salary and a patent leather briefcase like the rest of the solicitors I had interviewed that day. We weren't that kind of couture company. The next thing was that Alexander was knowledgeable. He was young, but he knew his stuff. He had been in practice for only a year, but he was open and upfront with Philip about why he hadn't found a permanent job after university. Only undertaking freelance work.
He had gone back home to spend some time with his family, as a reward for his hard work at school. Gone back to Austin, Texas for the first time since he left the United States for London. Home to see his family for the first time in five years.
He confessed to me, in a small conspiratorial whisper. "I sat and passed the bar exam in Texas too. I can now practice law in Texas too." The way he said it, was like it would put him ahead in the race for the position. Even though we both knew it had no bearing on the position whatsoever.
As it turned out Alex led the conversation to his family. Alex was more than happy to elaborate on his educational background. He said he had to put some space between himself and the US because of personal reasons (which he didn't elaborate on). The distance came at the cost of missing his family. He told me he is from Texas; his parents are still married, despite their busy careers. His sister is married and works for the LA Times. Her husband, Evan, is a kindergarten teacher.
He went on to explain that he had been deeply unhappy while living and studying in Georgetown during his second year at GWU. A chance opportunity to study at the London School of Economics and Political Science presented itself, and he not only finished that degree, but he also applied to stay and attend law school here. He explained how he had a friend from home, Nora, and she had moved here right out of high school and never looked back. So he took the plunge and moved to London for school too. Before declaring that it was the best decision he had ever made.
Thanking him for coming in, I realised that I hadn't asked him a single question about his specialities or work experience as a solicitor. His smile had never faltered, and he was so open and honest; heart-warming. His presence was honestly the exact match in terms of everything, including vibe, that we were looking for in a solicitor. When suddenly, it hit me: he was perfect not only for our business but also for Henry. He was exactly what Henry had needed to bring him out of his shell after the mess with Jack, five and a half years ago.
Sure, Henry had dated in that time since everything with Jack exploded spectacularly. It was in the dates after the demise of Jack and Henry's toxic relationship demise, that Pez lovingly referred to as "Henry's slutty era at Oxford". While Dad and Martha were keen to hear more about that particular story, they hadn't elaborated. Just to say, "At Oxford, there was a version of Henry who had left a trail of broken hearts and empty beds."
Since Jack, Henry had been really skittish around long-term commitment and that worried me. But almost everyone in our inner circle had told me that it was okay. Healing wasn't linear and he was still healing.
On a whim, I realised as I slipped off my work clothes and into some casual jeans; I needed to help Henry meet Alexander. I wasn't sure if I was smart enough to figure out how to make that happen on my own. I needed to think. Who would be the best accomplice? Martha or Dad? Mum was out, as was Bea. Both of those women protected Henry so much that no one could get through. I needed someone who could simultaneously help me and wrestle with those two protective hens and win.
I needed Dad.
ARTHUR
"Dad? You in here?" Pip called out, bringing my mind crashing chaotically back down to earth with a thud. Either they were early, or I had lost track of time. Again. Glancing at the clock on my desk, I realised they were early. Phew! Thank goodness for that!
I had been holed up in here with Henry for most of the day, just like I had been every day for the last three weeks. When my publicist suggested that I write an autobiography there was only one ghost writer I wanted to write it, our sweet Hen. I could have asked my wife; she is a writer too. But the kind of things I am planning to divulge in this book are the kind of things that Henry and I could bond over. I also wanted to give Henry this careful insight into who I am away from the cameras, as well as who I am away from the roles of husband, father and soon to be grandfather.
"Yeah, Pip." I called back and let my mind wander again, before shaking my head and carefully looking towards my oldest son. Something was clearly weighing on his mind. "Pip, do sit down before you positively bounce off a wall. What is going on? You are going to vibrate off the walls if you do not sit."
"I met your future son in law today." Philip rushed out, before bursting out laughing at himself. I couldn't help but laugh too, realising his words. Sitting up straighter, I told Philip to try again and this time to start at the beginning. "I met a man today. He is perfect and I think you're all going to like him very much."
"Pip?" At my question, realisation dawned on his face. A face that was actually a rather good blend of myself and Catherine. I knew my oldest son was not part of the LGBT community, but the irony of hearing those words from Philip's mouth had been amusing. I only wish I could have recorded it and played it for my dingbat of a mother-in-law.
"Sorry, let me re-phrase, I meant that I met a man for Henry. He is perfect for him, Dad. Hence, your future son in-law." Philip rushed to explain. Philip wasn't homophobic or anything like that. But it had taken him the longest to accept Henry and his sexuality. There had been friction between the boys and on more than one occasion, someone had to step between them. After a week or so, Philip changed his tune and started telling Henry about all of the men he knew who was gay.
"What makes him perfect for Hen?" I asked. I wasn't skeptical as such. But right now, it would take a very special man to claw Henry out of his social funk. Let alone enough, to spark Henry's interest in a man.
"For a start I am fairly certain he has ADHD, his train of thought was a joke. But he is witty, intelligent and smart. He has a degree in Government and Political Science and a law degree from the London School of Economics. He prefers to specialise in Immigration and Civil Rights law. However, he wants practice hours in all areas under his belt before he chooses a speciality. The man is American, but he has been here for five years. He vibrates out of his skin with passion and justice when he talks about everything. As soon as he left the office, something inside me was telling me I needed to make sure Henry meets him."
Looking at the pride flag in the pen jar on my desk, a glaring omission in Philip's theory came to light. "Does he even like men?" I reluctantly asked. More than once within the history of mankind, had a queer man had fallen for a straight man and the heartache hurts them like burning in hell. I didn't want to subject Henry to this hurt and shatter his already fragile heart to such heartbreak.
"Well, I didn't ask, and he didn't come on out and say it, but I saw a pride flag pinned on his messenger bag." Philip stopped and looked at my desk. Philip noticed that I also had a new flag beside it. It was pink, purple and blue. The bisexual flag. Henry had gifted it to me last week, after my confession to him. .
Philip touched the newest addition. "What's this one? The man I met had one of these on his bag too." He asked, as he fondled the fabric. "It's new. I haven't seen this flag before. Admittedly, I am not as much of an ally to the queer community as you and Bea are. You and Bea went to pride with Henry last year."
The moment had come. It had been easier saying this to Henry last week and to Bea over the weekend just gone. But it was a part of me that I knew I didn't want to hide any longer.
Catherine already knew, had known for years. I was honest with her and told her before we got together. She had questions, but she was accepting and respectful of that part of who I was. Once I came out to Henry, Bea was logically the next person. I looked carefully at my son, wondering what he would say.
"Sometimes in my industry, on occasion you have to live and act a certain way. It can, in most cases, still not be a very accepting community. Then again, in certain societal aspects, it's not accepted either. Before your mother, I had a special friend. Let's call him Dennis. He too lived in the spotlight; he had the love and affections of a younger man. But he was not monogamous and ultimately broke his younger paramour's heart. He swore off people in general, until a year later, when he was working on Broadway in New York, and he was pursued by a certain redhead. She caught his eye, and the rest was history. I am part of their community, Pip. That's why I went."
Philip's lips made a perfect oh shape and he seemed to think carefully about his next move. "Did you know? When you married mum?" Pip asked me, hesitantly. That was more than what he had done when Henry had come out. So I was counting it as a win.
"Yeah, Pip." I smiled softly at him, before giving him an unrepentant grin. "Your mum knew too. I told her from the very beginning."
"Right." Philip said and his voice sounded strained. He had come so far in his therapy, but this conversation was making him uncomfortable and it showed. I suppose he still had a bit further more to go. "I came here for a reason."
"Yes, you said you met my future son in law." I beamed at him. I never did like Henry's ex boyfriend Jack and Henry is a far too good of a man to be alone. "How are we getting Henry to meet this individual?"
"That's where I was hoping you could come in." My oldest son grinned at me. "I thought once I hire Alexander, you and Henry could stop by and 'surprise' Martha and I for lunch. I could introduce the two of them."
"I want to meet this individual first." I told my son in no uncertain terms. I did not care if Philip thought he was perfect for Henry. After the Jack incident, no one was getting past me without meeting me first.
"Ok, I will call him in for a second interview. Would you like to sit in?"
MARTHA
"Your husband and mine are conspiring about something in Arthur's office." I informed my mother in-law as soon as Catherine walked back in from the garden. As soon as I was sure that Philip was already out of earshot.
"Oh, good Lord!" Catherine sighed. This wasn't the first time that Arthur had conspired with one of his children for something and it usually meant embarrassment for the intended target. That usually ended up being one of the women in this family. My sister in-law Bea, my mother in-law Catherine and myself that was. Oh and on occasion, my brother in-law and favourite Fox member, besides my husband, Henry. "What is it now?"
"I don't know." I sighed too. "I suspect it has to do with that last solicitor that Philip had interviewed today. He was almost positively giddy afterwards. Philip has never been too good at keeping secrets from me. But this time, he hasn't said a word."
"It's either a set up for Bea, or for Henry." Catherine sighed. She, as much as me, was fiercely protective of Henry. So was Bea. No one had ever told me why, but I pieced enough of the puzzle to know that his ex was a bad guy. Toxic and tried to strangle him. Why anyone would treat sweet, soft Henry like that? "Well I am certainly not going to let that happen on my watch? Come along, Martha darling. Let's go find out what they're plotting."
Here's the thing about my in-laws. Catherine and Arthur are both smart. But Arthur is a disaster in the best possible way. Catherine is a forced to be reckoned with and the only one who can keep Arthur in check. I suppose she has had plenty of practice. Thirty years of marriage. Two sons, who I have heard were a nightmare and at each other's throats for the first decade of Henry's life. And sweet, high-spirited Bea. Bea who is fiercely independent, and an avid Henry supporter in everything he does. Even if she doesn't agree with him.
Knocking, before bursting the door open was Catherine Fox's brand when it came to her husband. Especially if she thought she needed to be protective over one of her children. "The jig is up, Fox. Spill." She demanded and I watched on as if comedic timing was invented for the first time that very day.
Arthur looked at Phillip, Philip looked at Arthur. Both of them looked at my mother in law and began singing like canaries in a cage. I was right. They had been up to no good.
What surprised me the most was Catherine's reaction. It had caught me off guard and I was wholly unprepared for it. "I want to meet him too." She had said and I wanted to clean my ears out and forever wonder if I had heard her correctly.
"So, I am not sitting in on the second interview then?" Arthur asked and Philip shook his head no.
"Jeez, it's not rocket science people. Catherine, you and Arthur come to our offices at midday tomorrow to 'meet' us for lunch." I schemed too. I couldn't help myself, everyone seemed so enthusiastic about meeting this man. I wanted to meet him too. "I will conveniently schedule his second interview for the same time as our lunch and you both can meet him."
When the following day rolled around and as predicted, the prospective job candidate arrived at the same time as Catherine and Arthur. Both Philip and I were surprised when Arthur and Alex were chatting away as they came into the office, as if they were long lost friends. Catherine was trailing behind, a broad smile pasted on her face.
We went through the faux mix up, apologising profusely, as Catherine and Arthur waited for us. We only asked a couple of questions to Alexander. Or Alex, he insisted we call him, before congratulating the young man and telling him he got the job.
Alex Claremont-Diaz had been hired on his merit, not because he was the perfect man for Henry. On that point, I had to be firm with my husband and in-laws.
As soon as he was out of eye line, and earshot, Catherine and Arthur were rushing into the office.
"He is perfect." Arthur beamed and I had to admit to myself that Arthur and Philip were right. Alex Claremont-Diaz was the perfect man for our sweet Henry.
CATHERINE
Over lunch, that very same day, it was very quickly decided that Arthur should be the main matchmaker. Philip and Martha owned and worked within the company, effectively making them Alex's boss. If they were to interfere or interrogate Alex, it could amount to harassment and open them up to a lawsuit. No one wanted that.
Arthur was positively giddy about the prospect of our Henry and this man Alex, that they had just met, getting together. Like it was a given that they would be soul mates. He could barely temper his excitement.
It wasn't.
The only thing we knew about him was what Philip had told us, and that Alex was a big fan of Arthur's work.
The kids had all assembled for dinner that evening as originally planned. But once the meal was eaten, before dessert was even served, Henry had excused himself rather quickly. He used his dear friend Pez as an excuse, claiming he had to leave. But I have been his mother for the entirety of his life, I can tell when I am being lied to.
A small squint and an uptick of the corner of his upper lip, they're Henry's tells when he isn't being one hundred percent truthful. However, that glint in his eye and the hopeful look behind his eyes, I have seen them before too. They're the signs that Henry has met someone.
These days, he conceals his rendezvous much more, keeping them close to his chest. However, most of the time, I can still spot it. This one was a big tell, and I prayed to every deity I know that this was not another situation like with Jack Neeson.
Besides my husband, Beatrice is the only other person that can truly read Henry to such an extent and as soon as Henry is gone, she caught my eye. However, it was not until we were alone after Philip and Martha had left for the evening that we had a chance to talk.
Beatrice and Henry share a three bedroom apartment in the centre of London. Beatrice is always travelling for her music, and it is close to Henry's job at the London Tribune. He is a fiction editor for a small independent publishing house. On occasion, he does guest reviews for the London Tribune. Mostly he covers any LGBTQIA book releases and West End opening nights. But he is happiest when he is in his office, reading someone's manuscript.
It was by design, that Henry and Beatrice ended up sharing a place together. Bea needed somewhere in the city, as did Henry. Henry had come in leaps and bounds in terms of therapy and his recovery. But recovery was not linear, and Bea had been very reluctant to let Henry live on his own. The longest she was gone at a time, was up to a month, and their friend Percy lived not too far.
"I don't know his name, but this is the fifth or sixth time Henry has been out with him in two weeks." Beatrice informed me when she brought in the last of the dishes into the kitchen from the dining room.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise at this new information. This definitely would put a spanner in the works of our plans. But we could still work with it. Like Bea had said, they've just started seeing one another.
"Henry's being very secretive about who he is." She sighed dejectedly. "Normally, he tells me everything."
"I know, bumblebee." I replied, trying to not read too much into the upset and hurt Bea was feeling.
The two of them had always been close and Bea had blamed herself for the situation with Jack. She had been the one to introduce the two of them, and she had been the one who had insisted that they were ideally suited. Bea also blamed herself, for not being there. Never mind the fact that Bea had been in Sydney at the time, on tour.
"You do know that at some point Henry is going to meet someone?" I asked her. "He is going to fall head over heels in love with a man. Henry is going to think the world of him, and he will be the one for our Hen."
Hopefully that man was Alex, but I wasn't ready to put all of my eggs in one basket like Philip and Arthur were.
"I know." She sighed. "I want that for him too. But what I don't understand is why Henry is being so secretive. We usually tell each other everything."
"Oh darling." I murmured and pulled my daughter in for a hug.
BEA
I am not as oblivious and naive as what most of my family think I am. Of course, I know that Henry is going to meet someone. Martha had caught me tonight, out of earshot of Henry and told me what they had planned. Telling me that even my mum and dad were on board with the plan.
I purposely did not tell Martha about Henry and the guy that Henry had left to go see.
It started two weeks ago. I came in from a long day at the studio, where I had been on the receiving end of the vitriol from the orchestra's manager who had been snapping at everyone all day, and I really needed to vent to Henry about how much of a disaster my day had been.
When I had flopped onto the sofa of my living room, tired, dejected, and wondering why I ever thought of making music as a choice for a career, Henry had come out of his room, dressed in a very nice suit. One of his more expensive ones, no tie, collar unbuttoned, as well as one or two more buttons and he was slipping his jacket over his shoulders.
"How do I look?" He had asked. I could tell he was nervous. He was gathering up his keys and wallet, as he came closer to me to retrieve his phone off the coffee table. I caught a whiff of his cologne. It was his good stuff. The stuff he wore when he had to go with Mum, Dad or Gran somewhere fancy. Not his usual everyday stuff.
"You look great, Hen." I told him, trying to keep the grin off my face. I was keen to know where he was going. "Out with Pez?" I asked. Because for the last five years, that was the only place Henry voluntarily went out. Besides work.
Not that Henry was celibate. Hell, we shared an apartment. But did one night stands count, if he only brought someone home when he was drunk and had been out with Pez?
"Just out, Bea." Henry was usually honest with me and the fact he didn't tell me at the time had stung.
When the very next weekend, I saw Henry emerge from his room, dressed in his best jeans, a new oxford blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the same cologne on again, I had immediately asked if it was a date. This time, Henry told me yes in a coy manner that I had never seen before on his face.
The smile was shy and small, but that night, he had come back to the flat and he had been accompanied. I was so grateful I could not make out voices, or hear anything except the odd muffled noise. The following morning, I had just been waking up when I had heard Henry already awake in the living room. He was not alone. His date had spent the night. As casually, (and quickly) as I could, I had made it to the living room, just in time to see a man pull back from kissing Henry on the lips against the front door jamb and leave, heading off down the hall.
When Henry had turned around, and looked at me, his face was red, so was his ears and he had a giddy smile on his face.
"Was that ...-?"
"I'm not talking about this, Bea." Henry had instantly shut me down, still smiling.
Fast forward to tonight, Henry had left the family dinner early, the same coy smile on his face that had been in his face for the last two weeks and my worry had intensified. Enough I had to tell someone, and Mum was the logical choice. She was like me when it came to Henry, in a consistent state of worry.
Mum had been rational, and I knew why. She was invested in Henry meeting this solicitor fellow that Pip and Martha had hired. The one that Dad had declared to me, when I had joined Mum and I for a cuppa, was "gorgeous and human perfection for Henry". Before teasingly declaring, 'If I was thirty years younger ….' and mum had rolled her eyes at Dad and his antics.
When Dad told me that he was bisexual, honestly, I kind of wasn't surprised. When we went to Pride together for the first time (and every time since) he would always point 'good looking' fellows out to me or Hen. When Henry would stare at him, leveling him with a certain look on his face, dad would always declare."I have eyes, you know. I'm not blind yet."
I was ok with it, dad loved mum above all else and mum was ok with it too. Henry told me he had laughed the hardest laugh of his life, not bothering to say the obvious, I thought so. But dad and Henry had become closer through dad's coming out. The two of them had become like little schoolgirls, giggling over boys and honestly, seeing Dad in Henry's world like that. It made me feel like Henry would never be truly alone there. Dad always had his back.
Mum and Dad offered me to stay the night at home, but I really wanted to be at our shared flat, just in case. For Henry. But at the same time, I wish I had stayed at home with mum and dad.
Henry didn't come home that night.
He did send me a message and let me know not to expect him at home, before reminding me to make sure I locked the deadbolt before I went to bed.
As usual, I was supportive of Hen and replied with a smiley face, a heart and a kiss.
But I wished he would open up to me and confide in me, once again.
PERCY
Getting summoned to the Fox family home by the big man, Arthur himself was something that had never happened in the entire friendship I had shared with Henry. All of the crazy stunts we had pulled, and all of our crazy antics, including the time we randomly hopped on a plane to Mongolia and spent our summer break living with yaks.
One, it was weird that Arthur was home in the middle of a workday. I knew he was working less in front of the camera and more behind the camera these days, but it was still odd.
Seeing that Catherine was home too and knowing that school was not out yet for the summer, put me on edge even more. I feared that they were going to tell me something awful. Something they hadn't told Henry yet, like Arthur's cancer was back. I was an anxious mess.
"Percy, darling. Hello" Arthur greeted me, warmly. They had always treated me like family, and they respected my pronouns and never needed prompting or reminding. Philip was the exception, but I had to admit, Philip was getting better too. "Relax, you look as tightly wound as a pocket watch. Tea?"
I nodded and took a seat while Catherine prepared tea and Arthur leveled me with that certain stare that always made me feel the need to confess whatever sins Henry and I had committed in the name of our shenanigans.
Once I had my mug of oolong tea, brewed to perfection by the woman who was like a second mother to me, something shifted.
All of a sudden, it was an interrogation, and I was the main suspect. This did not bode well, I needed to stay strong. Or they would snap me like a twig.
"Tell us about the fellow Henry is seeing." Arthur started clearly, he was playing the bad cop.
I could not help it, I burst out laughing. This was not what I expected, so far from it. I had not even entertained the thought.
"Oh, Henry's new strumpet is utterly delicious." I laughed some more, before straightening up under their intense gaze. "You both must know by now; I would never betray Hazza's confidence unless he was in danger."
I took a sip of my hot tea, warm and soothing on my throat, which was dry from laughter. "Henry's strumpet is a gentle giant. He is sweet, and he is gentle as a smitten kitten around Henry. It's utterly gross how tongue tied the two of them get around each other."
That didn't seem to assuage the fear in the parents of my best friend. "His name, Pezza?" Arthur pressed me, and I shook my head no.
Stay strong, Pez. I reminded myself.
"I cannot in good conscience betray Henry's trust." I remained firm, even if I wanted to crumble over the James Bondesque glare that Arthur was leveling at me. "But I will tell you this. They met almost a year ago and were instantly attracted to one another. They often crossed paths and then his strumpet was away for almost six months, working and they were really cute with the whole exchanged emails and texts, back and forth. Henry and his strumpet both have had bad relationships in the past and wanted to get to know one another first, before taking it further. From what I understand, they've only been together for a short time."
"Where did they meet?" Catherine asked, and that was when I realise that she had been in one the interrogation too.
"That's for Henry to tell you when he is ready." I declared.
The only thing scarier than Arthur leveling his best James Bondesque glare at me, was Catherine's glare over the top of her spectacles.
I changed my mind, this wasn't good cop, bad cop. This was bad cop, worst cop. Catherine was the worse.
She reminded me too much of that English teacher Henry and I had at Eton, who hated me and thought I was a bad influence on Henry. They weren't even spectacles that Catherine wore every day, because she didn't need glasses for everyday use. She only used spectacles when she was studying something. Reading or working.
She was using them to study me.
"I can respect that." Catherine murmured, kissing my cheek. "You're a good friend, Percy Okonjo."
Arthur was silent, and honestly, the silence was terrifying me. "I need you to know, we, " indicating to Catherine and himself, "along with Philip and Martha, have met the perfect man for Henry. We want to fix him up with this fellow and I would like your help in this endeavor."
I closed my eyes and sighed; I knew Henry was not going to respond well to this. Arthur had that look on his face, the one of determination and I recoiled. It was usually only in reserved for Henry's high society, homophobic grandmother. I had never had it leveled at me before.
"While I am all for Henry finding someone as lovely as my own paramour are, I am afraid this will not end well for you all." I replied, trying not to hurt them.
I know that they're all coming at Henry from a place of love, but Henry was already in love and I saw it written on his face, every time Henry mentioned his strumpet. Or the one time, I saw them together from across the crowded room. The sexual tension between Hazza and his strumpet was palpable and since their first date, it had been worse. They were as sickeningly sweet on each other, as much as they possibly could be. More than Henry had ever been before.
Even if Henry had not officially introduced me yet.
ALEX
Only a week and a half into working for Fox Fabrics and Design, I was surprised to come back into the office, right after my final meeting of the day. Right on my home time and find the father of my boss, and literal James Bond star, Arthur Fox perched on the corner of my desk, coffee in hand, waiting for me.
"Ah, good evening, Arthur." I greeted him. I tried to hurry Arthur along, I had plans to meet my boyfriend for an early dinner before catching a movie together.
The first time I had referred to him as Mr. Fox, he had shut me down with a witty quip, that had my stomach rolling in butterflies. This man was literally my bisexual awakening at seventeen years old, for Christ's sake.
"Alex, my dear boy." He greeted me, like I was his long-lost friend and honestly, I never thought this would ever happen to me in my life. "I come bearing gifts. I am in desperate need of a favour."
Closing my eyes, and checking my watch, I let out a sigh. He was Arthur Fox, an idol of mine, and as much as I wanted to get to know him. My wonderfully charming, and beautiful boyfriend was already outside waiting for me. I knew if I took too long, he would come up and normally, that would not be an issue, but I really needed this job to work out for me. For me.
"What is this favour you speak of?" I asked, grinning at the man who had bought a coffee just for me.
"I have a son, not Philip, but my other son and I was wondering if you would be amenable to …" Arthur looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "I would like you to meet him. I think the two of you would be… "
It didn't help that my boyfriend looked so much like Arthur Fox, it was undeniably hot.
That was probably because my boyfriend, his son.
His son, that he was trying to get me to meet.
"Ah thank you." I smothered my own laughter. The irony not lost on me. "But I am already seeing someone."
Arthur looked defeated, and momentarily, I felt bad for not coming clean. But I wanted this job to work out for me. Not because I was in a relationship with Henry Fox.
I saw Henry approaching before I heard him and I smiled so wide, I thought I might finally crack my face.
"Dad?" He asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Henry." Arthur seemed startled by his son's appearance and my Hen had this large smile on his face. He sent me a wink and it made my insides turn to jelly.
"Hey baby," I grinned, as Henry reached me and leaned in to kiss me hello. Pulling back, I winked at Henry. "Sorry I am running late, Arthur here, was trying to set me up on a date with his son."
Henry's melodic laughter filled the air, "DAD!" He admonished Arthur and Arthur was stunned.
"Is he ok?" I mock-whispered to Hen, and Arthur's face shifted into the biggest shit-eating grin I had ever seen in my life. Then he let out the most maniacal laugh I have ever heard.
Henry and I were deeply amused, as Henry slid his arm around me, pulling me closer into him. Spying the coffee cup, Henry tsk'd at me. "Darling, are we going to have to have another conversation about your caffeine consumption?"
I held up my hands in mock protest. "Arthur bought it for me, who was I to say no?"
"Alex," his voice lowered, and I recognised the playful warning on Henry's lips.
Arthur just laughed harder, and Henry looked just as confused as I was.
"Good night, boys." Arthur managed to get out between fits of laughter, clearly amused, as Henry shouldered my messenger bag and led me to the door by my hand.
HENRY
Present Day
Waking up, wrapped around Alex is a wondrous dream come true. I have counted my blessings twice, every moment of every day in the last three years that we've been together. I can already hear the excitement milling around downstairs.
As I lay here and pretend that Alex and I did not go against the wishes of both our families and spend the night before our wedding together, I hold Alex tighter into my embrace. I am not ready to face the cacophony of noise and the craziness of the final preparation of today.
"Baby?" Alex's voice is husky with sleep.
"Shh, love." I murmur trying to lull him back to sleep. "It's still very early."
Alex and I had been in the states for a month so far. We had been taking an extended break here whilst the final preparations of our wedding took place.
Our wedding is today. The long and anticipated wait is over, and the day has finally arrived.
We have been staying at Alex's family's Lake House and although it's not the first time we have been here, it certainly holds a lot of fond memories for us.
This wedding though, it's just for us and everyone knows that. We agreed to host a lavish party in London after our honeymoon. But the ceremony itself was to be small and intimate. It was a compromise between us, Dad and Ellen.
Who knew that Alex's mum and my dad would be such bad influences on each other? Whilst my mum and Alex's father, Oscar were the more laid-back parents? Our families got along perfectly, and that in itself made me feel better about my anxieties. I had been so nervous when they first met, but within the first ten minutes, I was like family to Ellen, Oscar, June and Evan.
The fact that Nora and Pez were now a couple too was a huge help. My family adore Pez, just as Alex's family adored Nora.
Alex rolled over in my arms, and kissed my lips, as the sunlight streamed in through the crack in the heavy drapes. "Mmm, morning." He hummed against my lips. I could feel his body against mine. Hard, yet pliant and wanting. We had learnt after our first trip out here to lock the bedroom door once we were in for the night.
Mostly to keep Nora and Pez out. Those two did not hesitate to knock, then just walk straight into the room like they owned the place. Regardless of what we were doing.
My hands were reaching out to touch Alex's equally naked body, to pick up where we left last night (well actually, earlier on this morning) when we both jumped at the sound of the bedroom door being banged on.
Loudly. If we weren't awake before, we were now.
"Come on, you love birds. Time to rise and shine." Nora's voice rang through the door. I love her like another sister, but sometimes I could kill her for her antics.
"You can't shag him all day, Haz. Save something for the honeymoon." Percy added. I love him like a brother too, but he's dead to me.
Alex let out a laugh, and I followed. We could hear Ellen and Dad laughing from further down the hall too.
"They're lucky we love them." Alex mused out loud, resting his forehead against mine. "Or their asses would be grass."
"They are." I agreed, stealing a small chaste kiss from Alex. "I suppose we should get up and get this show on the road."
Luckily, Alex adores my family and I adore his family. But there was no more time to waste.
Today we officially become a family of our own.
The Claremont-Diaz-Fox family