scooping her unruly hair up into a huge messy high ponytail. She is right next to their iPod, and with her finger poised above the play button, she says, ‘OK, gentlemen, here we go. If you aren’t standing to attention by that door, completely washed, dressed and ready for school action by the end of this song, there will, repeat WILL be serious consequences which involve extreme pain. Yes, I hereby declare I am threatening you with physical violence, intent to harm, call it what you will, it will hurt. Do you understand?!’
‘Yes, Rosie.’
‘We understand.’
‘Right,’ she continues, ‘here goes.’
She presses the button, and very loudly, Pharrell Williams’
‘Happy’ blares out. You have to be dead to resist dancing and singing along to this song, so of course they bop away as they clear up their room, pick up their books and get their school uniforms on, lip-synching all the while. On the very last beat, they jump into position near the door. Phew.
‘Good, I don’t have to injure you after all. By the right, quick march, follow me …’ Rosie stomps out of the door towards breakfast. She leaves the boys’ bedroom door open, their den door is also open, her door to her set of rooms is open, and as they pass Thomas’s office, his door is
also
open. She glances in. He is dressed for work. As he sees her, he grins and steps out from behind his desk. He is wearing pink Hawaiian shorts. Rosie smiles and carries on marching to the breakfast room, leaving a trail of light from the open doors flooding the dark corridors behind her.
Five minutes later, Glenn’s face is wearing its most distasteful expression Rosie has thus far seen. Her eyes bore their disapproval into Thomas as he turns from the sideboard where he is loading his plate up with bacon. For a tiny second he could be embarrassed, but then he knocks his knees together in a funny little dance for her and winks. He hopes this will thaw her. It doesn’t.
When the derisory comment eventually comes, it is from Kemble. ‘Pop, only a fag wears pink shorts.’
Rosie flinches at this. ‘Wooo. Massively un-pc there!’
Teddy, who is home to visit again for a few days, agrees. ‘It’s not OK to say that, Dad, the little guys …’
Kemble perseveres. ‘Oh sorry … Queer then?’
‘Really?’ Teddy questions him. He says to his grandfather, ‘I personally think you look edgy, Granpop.’
‘I’m hoping this is for some kind of sponsored charity event?’ Glenn remarks.
Thomas grins at her, giving her every indication that she couldn’t be more wrong. He’s doing this because he wants to, ‘Nope. Got an important board meeting.’
Kemble says, ‘OK, he’s full on senile. Fact.’
Rosie has remained quiet, watching the scene with interest, and trying to keep the twins distracted from the casual homophobia that is being bandied around. She gets up to help herself to coffee. Thomas holds the cup out for her and, as he gives it to her, brushes her hand. For the briefest of seconds she catches his eye. A tiny thrilling fleeting moment, which Rosie reacts to in the carnal pit of her stomach. And then just as quick, it’s gone.
Iva bundles in with a huge parcel. ‘The porter just deliver this. Is for you, Mr W. B.,’ and she hands over the large cumbersome package.
‘Ah,’ says Thomas. ‘Thank you Iva. I know exactly what this is. My latest eBay triumph.’
‘Wow!’ says Three.
‘What is it, Granpop?!’ says Red.
‘You’ll see boys, you’ll see. All in good time.’
Glenn watches all this unnecessary excitement, a General losing control of her army.
Saturday
Glenn is irritated. Not only are the doors open all over the place in the apartment, and increasingly so, it would seem, allowing pesky light in, everywhere. But now there are two further abominations. The first is air. There is a distinct breeze blowing fresh air right through, which is another reason to keep the wretched doors shut. Never mind the windows, which
‘Yes, Rosie.’
‘We understand.’
‘Right,’ she continues, ‘here goes.’
She presses the button, and very loudly, Pharrell Williams’
‘Happy’ blares out. You have to be dead to resist dancing and singing along to this song, so of course they bop away as they clear up their room, pick up their books and get their school uniforms on, lip-synching all the while. On the very last beat, they jump into position near the door. Phew.
‘Good, I don’t have to injure you after all. By the right, quick march, follow me …’ Rosie stomps out of the door towards breakfast. She leaves the boys’ bedroom door open, their den door is also open, her door to her set of rooms is open, and as they pass Thomas’s office, his door is
also
open. She glances in. He is dressed for work. As he sees her, he grins and steps out from behind his desk. He is wearing pink Hawaiian shorts. Rosie smiles and carries on marching to the breakfast room, leaving a trail of light from the open doors flooding the dark corridors behind her.
Five minutes later, Glenn’s face is wearing its most distasteful expression Rosie has thus far seen. Her eyes bore their disapproval into Thomas as he turns from the sideboard where he is loading his plate up with bacon. For a tiny second he could be embarrassed, but then he knocks his knees together in a funny little dance for her and winks. He hopes this will thaw her. It doesn’t.
When the derisory comment eventually comes, it is from Kemble. ‘Pop, only a fag wears pink shorts.’
Rosie flinches at this. ‘Wooo. Massively un-pc there!’
Teddy, who is home to visit again for a few days, agrees. ‘It’s not OK to say that, Dad, the little guys …’
Kemble perseveres. ‘Oh sorry … Queer then?’
‘Really?’ Teddy questions him. He says to his grandfather, ‘I personally think you look edgy, Granpop.’
‘I’m hoping this is for some kind of sponsored charity event?’ Glenn remarks.
Thomas grins at her, giving her every indication that she couldn’t be more wrong. He’s doing this because he wants to, ‘Nope. Got an important board meeting.’
Kemble says, ‘OK, he’s full on senile. Fact.’
Rosie has remained quiet, watching the scene with interest, and trying to keep the twins distracted from the casual homophobia that is being bandied around. She gets up to help herself to coffee. Thomas holds the cup out for her and, as he gives it to her, brushes her hand. For the briefest of seconds she catches his eye. A tiny thrilling fleeting moment, which Rosie reacts to in the carnal pit of her stomach. And then just as quick, it’s gone.
Iva bundles in with a huge parcel. ‘The porter just deliver this. Is for you, Mr W. B.,’ and she hands over the large cumbersome package.
‘Ah,’ says Thomas. ‘Thank you Iva. I know exactly what this is. My latest eBay triumph.’
‘Wow!’ says Three.
‘What is it, Granpop?!’ says Red.
‘You’ll see boys, you’ll see. All in good time.’
Glenn watches all this unnecessary excitement, a General losing control of her army.
Saturday
Glenn is irritated. Not only are the doors open all over the place in the apartment, and increasingly so, it would seem, allowing pesky light in, everywhere. But now there are two further abominations. The first is air. There is a distinct breeze blowing fresh air right through, which is another reason to keep the wretched doors shut. Never mind the windows, which
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