Where you labelled me Gay Lenny, he left unsaid.
Adrian smiled. Leonard did not reciprocate. Against his better judgment, he noticed Adrian had a nice smile, one that reached his eyes and made his whole face brighten. Up close, Leonard realised that on top of his light caramel, biracial colouring, he had cute orange freckles on his nose and cheeks. Something came back to Leonard then. Adrian’s father had been a big West Indian man, popular in the community, while his mother had been a small, fiery Irishwoman. An unlikely combination, but unmissable in the small town. As for Adrian, he still had a full head of the dark-red hair Leonard remembered, but worn short now and showing signs of grey at the temples. A few years older than Leonard, he must have been touching fifty but looked in incredible shape.
“Or maybe you do,” said Adrian. “Happy days, eh?”
“Yeah. Not so much.”
Adrian’s smile faltered then. Leonard didn’t care. The guy had been an asshole to him at school.
“Look, I was in the other bar and noticed you all arrive. Maisie the barmaid told me the occasion and what had happened. I didn’t know your father well, but heard he was respected around here, especially at the university. So I just wanted to pass on my condolences. And I’m not sure how long you’re in town, but if there’s anything I can do—you know—to help out in any way, just let me know.”
“That’s kind of you.” Leonard’s voice remained flat.
“Sure.”
Adrian’s eyebrows flickered, and he appeared to want to say something else, or maybe expected Leonard to take up the conversation. Eventually the smile faded into silent awkwardness. Beating a retreat, he turned and moved away back to the other bar. Despite having tainted memories of the man, Leonard felt a tingle in his solar plexus watching the thick jeans-clad thighs, slim waist and solid shoulders of the man, not to mention the tight muscled backside moving off.If only they belonged to somebody else.With his gaze lingering, he barely noticed the slight figure approach him, but definitely caught the pungent odour of mothballs.
“Leonard?”
The woman, his Aunt Millicent, stood with a tall tumbler of what appeared to be sparkling water. His cousin, Matthew, stood slightly behind her in his charcoal suit and tie and dark glasses, like a personal minder. Never having met the family, he had no idea what his uncle looked like but guessed Matthew’s father had similar looks. He had a bald pate surrounded by jet-black hair—a little too black to be natural—and a full face of chubby jowls and double chin.
“I’m sorry it’s taken the death of my brother for us to finally meet. Your father and I didn’t see eye to eye on many things. But in the end, he was still family, and as the Good Book teaches us, we need to love each other unconditionally despite our differences. Shame really, because you are about the same age as Matthew and Mary. Had we not been estranged, I’m sure you’d have been close.”
Leonard wasn’t so sure. Nothing about Matthew came across as congenial.
“Is Mary here?” he asked.
“Poor thing. Her husband has mobility issues. Otherwise, she would have been.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must be difficult. Send her my best when you return.”
“I will. So do you have faith, Leonard?”
Leonard had heard the question asked in different ways in the past, but knew innately what his aunt was asking. And the last thing he wanted was a sermon on the depths of his aunt’s faith.
“If you’re asking whether I follow any organised religion, then the answer is no. I’m on the fence. Agnostic.”
“I see. And are you married?”
Leonard used to hate being asked the intrusive question, something that happened regularly in his line of work. But now he simply shrugged off the irritation and answered truthfully.
“I’m not.”
“Ah, well. Marriage is not for everyone. Since his divorce, Matthew hasn’t found anyone special, either. Have you, dear? Not for want of trying.”
“Mother!” came Matthew’s voice, a high, nasal sound. “Do you have to?”
Leonard tried hard not to smile.
“Don’t worry, Matthew,” he said, smirking over his aunt’s shoulder. “It’s a mother’s duty to embarrass her offspring in public.”
Leonard couldn’t interpret the reaction behind the sunglasses, but Matthew’s mouth remained unsmiling. Instead, he looked away while taking a sip from a pint glass of bubbly brown cola filled with ice cubes and lemon slices.
“Your father could be a difficult man, Leonard,” said Aunt Millicent, her lips pursed.
Leonard’s mood spiked at the comment, bearing in mind the occasion. Two hours ago, he’d had no idea who this woman was. Did she now feel familiar enough to justify judging his father in front of him?
“As I said at the chapel, my father had integrity. He was also principled and stood firmly by those principles, something he passed on to me. I have nothing but unconditional love and respect for him.”
