thinking.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m thinking,” Harry said darkly.
“I might get an earring, through,” Ben added, unable to stifle a broad grin.
“No son of mine is getting an earring,” Harry replied.
“Is that an order or a prediction?” Ben asked.
“Oh my God!” Beth shouted excitedly as soon as she reached the doorway. “Mum, have you seen what Ben’s done to his hair?”
“At least someone likes it,” Ben chuckled, keeping his eyes fixed on his father. “Can’t you be happy for me, Dad? I’m breaking out of my humdrum existence and trying to experiment. Plus, I think the girls are gonna love it at school. See? Again, not homosexual, so you don’t have to worry about your pals at the cafe starting to gossip. Not unless they’re a bunch of goddamn cretins, in which case I guess they might get all uppity and -”
“Cut out the bad language at the breakfast table,” Harry replied, interrupting him.
“Cretins? Homosexuals? What’s the bad language? You guys were talking about garroting people when I walked in, for fuck’s sake.”
“Language!” Harry shouted, slamming a hand against the table.
“Oh Jesus,” Audrey said, stopping in the doorway. “Ben… Really?”
“Really,” he replied with a smile.
“Blonde?”
“Blonde, mother.”
“Well…” She guided Beth over to one of the empty chairs. “You did a good job, actually. Looks like you covered the roots well enough, that’s not easy when you’re doing it yourself. Maybe I’ll get you to help next time I dye mine.”
Harry muttered something under his breath.
“You look weird,” Beth told Ben.
“But do you like it?” he asked.
Smiling, she nodded.
“It’s wrong,” Harry said darkly, turning to another page in the newspaper. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore and I don’t want to see it anymore.”
“So when you garrote someone,” Jack continued, “is it quick?”
“What does garrote mean?” Beth asked. “Is it rude?”
“Oh God,” Audrey muttered, “what is this family becoming?”
“Garrote,” Ben began, “means -”
“Get out!” Harry shouted suddenly.
“What? I was just -”
“Get out of my dining room!” Standing up, Harry pointed to the door. “You can’t talk to your sister about things like that! For God’s sake, have you got no sense or decency? Do you think it’s funny to come down here with your blonde hair and start discussing methods of execution over the breakfast table?”
“Harry, sit down,” Audrey hissed. “Let’s just try to have a few minutes together as a family, okay?”
“That’s what I’m trying to achieve,” Harry said darkly, keeping his eyes fixed on Ben, “but certain people clearly find it funny to cause disruption.” He paused, waiting for Ben to leave. “Go to your room,” he added finally. “Go on, don’t make me say it again or I might just drag you up there by the collar.”
“My room?” Ben replied, clearly amused by the situation. “Like… What, is this the 1950s suddenly? Am I twelve?”
“You heard me,” Harry continued. “I don’t like repeating myself, so don’t act even dumber than you are. You’ve forfeited the right to sit with your family at the breakfast table, so I suggest you go to your room and think about what you’ve done. And start planning how you’re going to get your hair back to its proper color, because there’s no way any son of mine is going to walk around this town looking like…” He paused, struggling to find the right word. “Like…”
“Like Lou Reed?” Ben suggested helpfully.
“Room! Now!”
Sighing, Ben got to his feet and made his way slowly around the table.
“And wipe that grin off your face,” Harry told him. “My God, boy, do you go through life finding everything funny?”
“Nah,” Ben replied, heading to the door. “Mainly just when you’re around, pontificating and trying to act tough.”
“What did you say?” Harry roared, turning to watch him
“Don’t tell me what I’m thinking,” Harry said darkly.
“I might get an earring, through,” Ben added, unable to stifle a broad grin.
“No son of mine is getting an earring,” Harry replied.
“Is that an order or a prediction?” Ben asked.
“Oh my God!” Beth shouted excitedly as soon as she reached the doorway. “Mum, have you seen what Ben’s done to his hair?”
“At least someone likes it,” Ben chuckled, keeping his eyes fixed on his father. “Can’t you be happy for me, Dad? I’m breaking out of my humdrum existence and trying to experiment. Plus, I think the girls are gonna love it at school. See? Again, not homosexual, so you don’t have to worry about your pals at the cafe starting to gossip. Not unless they’re a bunch of goddamn cretins, in which case I guess they might get all uppity and -”
“Cut out the bad language at the breakfast table,” Harry replied, interrupting him.
“Cretins? Homosexuals? What’s the bad language? You guys were talking about garroting people when I walked in, for fuck’s sake.”
“Language!” Harry shouted, slamming a hand against the table.
“Oh Jesus,” Audrey said, stopping in the doorway. “Ben… Really?”
“Really,” he replied with a smile.
“Blonde?”
“Blonde, mother.”
“Well…” She guided Beth over to one of the empty chairs. “You did a good job, actually. Looks like you covered the roots well enough, that’s not easy when you’re doing it yourself. Maybe I’ll get you to help next time I dye mine.”
Harry muttered something under his breath.
“You look weird,” Beth told Ben.
“But do you like it?” he asked.
Smiling, she nodded.
“It’s wrong,” Harry said darkly, turning to another page in the newspaper. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore and I don’t want to see it anymore.”
“So when you garrote someone,” Jack continued, “is it quick?”
“What does garrote mean?” Beth asked. “Is it rude?”
“Oh God,” Audrey muttered, “what is this family becoming?”
“Garrote,” Ben began, “means -”
“Get out!” Harry shouted suddenly.
“What? I was just -”
“Get out of my dining room!” Standing up, Harry pointed to the door. “You can’t talk to your sister about things like that! For God’s sake, have you got no sense or decency? Do you think it’s funny to come down here with your blonde hair and start discussing methods of execution over the breakfast table?”
“Harry, sit down,” Audrey hissed. “Let’s just try to have a few minutes together as a family, okay?”
“That’s what I’m trying to achieve,” Harry said darkly, keeping his eyes fixed on Ben, “but certain people clearly find it funny to cause disruption.” He paused, waiting for Ben to leave. “Go to your room,” he added finally. “Go on, don’t make me say it again or I might just drag you up there by the collar.”
“My room?” Ben replied, clearly amused by the situation. “Like… What, is this the 1950s suddenly? Am I twelve?”
“You heard me,” Harry continued. “I don’t like repeating myself, so don’t act even dumber than you are. You’ve forfeited the right to sit with your family at the breakfast table, so I suggest you go to your room and think about what you’ve done. And start planning how you’re going to get your hair back to its proper color, because there’s no way any son of mine is going to walk around this town looking like…” He paused, struggling to find the right word. “Like…”
“Like Lou Reed?” Ben suggested helpfully.
“Room! Now!”
Sighing, Ben got to his feet and made his way slowly around the table.
“And wipe that grin off your face,” Harry told him. “My God, boy, do you go through life finding everything funny?”
“Nah,” Ben replied, heading to the door. “Mainly just when you’re around, pontificating and trying to act tough.”
“What did you say?” Harry roared, turning to watch him
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