Rentboy

“And my work.”
    Annika handed them each a cup of tea and a small plate with a folded lace-edged napkin on it.
    “Thanks, Mum.” Edward smiled as he took it. He draped the napkin on his knee even though he
    never used one at home, but his mum liked everything done properly. She passed around the plate of
    buttered scones.
    “Shall I leave you men to it?”
    The scones, normally so inviting, held no interest for Edward just then. The first thing that left
    him when he was upset was his appetite. Nik always complained that she ate twice as much when she
    was upset. “It’s up to you, Mum. I have nothing to hide from either of you now that you know I’m
    gay.” That wasn’t entirely true. He would prefer they didn’t know about the barn and Utopia, not to
    mention Russell Square and Tisbury Court.
    “You shouldn’t have hidden it at all, Edward. Your mother and I are very proud of you.” They
    had never told him they loved him, they weren’t the sort, but he knew they did. He was going to make
    sure he told his kids every day.
    For the next half an hour he told them a rambling tale of love and bioweapons and, because he
    had planned it in advance, managed to get through the lie about how he met Fox without his cheeks
    growing pink and guilt surging through him. Nik had always said he couldn’t tell a lie if a gun was
    pointed at his head.
    “So he just walked up to you on the street, and you struck up a friendship?” Dr. Atherton poured
    himself another cup of tea from the fresh pot Annika had brewed while Edward spoke. “And now you
    know the whole thing was planned.”
    Lounging back in his chair, his legs sprawled out, Edward nodded despondently. “Yes. He was
    using me.”
    “What a shame. He seemed like such a lovely boy,” Annika said. “The way he took care of his
    sister and brother.”
    “And a smashing sense of humor,” his father added with a smile.
    “He’s quite the actor,” Edward said. “Though I’m certain his love for the twins is genuine.”
    “I’m not sure Fox was just using you.” His mum stirred her tea, the spoon clattering loudly in the
    thin china cup. “He told me he loved you.”
    “He did?” That was enough to bring Edward upright in his chair. “When?” Confusing emotions
    muddled his brain. It was all too much to manage.
    “I spoke to him at your bedroom door. The twins were cleaning the upstairs bathroom, and I
    didn’t quite know what to do, so I went to ask Fox. You were asleep on the bed. He looked at you and
    then said to me, ‘I love him.’ That was it.”
    A moment of pure joy was quickly followed by a sense of emptiness. Fox tells lies. But why
    would he lie to Annika? Perhaps so she would think well of him. Edward’s mind worked in linear
    fashion with very little variation in shade. He loved Fox, couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it, and
    couldn’t imagine ever not loving him. Fox said one thing and did another, but then lots of people did.
    If only everybody thought like Edward, life would be so much more reasonable, so much easier. “I’m
    in love with him. I want everything to be nice.”
    “You get that from me, darling. But love is one of those things that needs time to ferment, like a
    nice bottle of rose hip wine.” Annika stood. “I’m going to leave you men alone to discuss the work
    side of things. I know nothing about that, but I do know that my son has high moral standards and will
    not back down against the threat of men without them.” Her trust and belief in him felt wonderful, but
    the fact was if any of what Fox had said was true, Edward was beginning to get very nervous.
    Dr. Atherton rose too. “Come on, son. Let’s go for a walk.”
    They had done this many times during his growing up. If there was a pressing matter, school
    bullying, a less than exemplary mark in science or mathematics, a nasty teacher, the elder Atherton
    would take the younger on a walk, and all the world would seem brighter at the conclusion. His dad
    had a way with him that made Edward feel he could trust him with anything. However, this matter
    was definitely beyond his scope and experience. Still, the comfort and familiarity of the ritual would
    help.
    Edward followed his father through the French doors into the bright afternoon sun. The heat had
    lessened in the last few days, taking with it the humidity and leaving behind a pleasant warmth. They
    walked through the gardens as they had so many times when he was younger, and out to