Page 46 of The Absence of You
“Call me Colin dear. I’ve told you enough times now. You are virtually my daughter-in-law after all.” Turning to me, my father snaps, “You aren’t to restart that childish friendship with her, Grayson. I allowed it when you were younger, hoping some of her confidence might rub off on you, but her attitude is quite vulgar, and I don’t want you associating with her.”
Before I can respond, he storms back indoors and heads straight to our table, taking a seat next to my mother. He is visibly seething as he leans in to whisper something to her. She shoots me a look of disapproval, and I wonder if she deliberately kept the news about Dahlia being back from him after she saw us together a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe she just didn’t care enough to mention it.
As usual, we are seated with the Sloan family and my place card puts me between Charlotte and Mrs. Sloan. I sit down and take a large gulp of my wine before motioning to the waiter to refill my glass.
My father has always looked down on Dahlia, believing he’s better than most people, but her in particular. As for Charlotte, she’s cut from the same cloth. A product of the same toxic culture that exists in my father’s social circles. I know people assume I’m like them, but I’m not.
My blood is boiling after hearing them talk about her like that. I badly want to leap to her defence, to yell in their stupid, smug faces that Dahlia has more class in her little finger than the two of them combined, but I can’t let my father see how much their words get to me. So I count in my head and temper my rage. I let them say those awful things about her, and I say nothing.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
GRAYSON
I’m pushing my dessert around my plate when Charlotte turns to me,
“What’s wrong with you tonight? You’ve had a face on you through the entire meal.” I don’t bother answering her. There’s no way she missed what was going on outside earlier. She may not have actually witnessed the kiss, but I saw the way she looked at Dahlia and took in my mussed-up hair and my heavy breathing. I’d been sporting a hard-on when they’d found us, for fuck's sake. “It’s because we interrupted you and that girl, isn’t it? I saw you dry humping her outside or whatever the fuck you were doing. You need to be more discreet. We had a fucking deal Grayson. We said we’d carry on as we were in public. You better not embarrass me.”
She’s a fucking hypocrite. I turned a blind eye to her indiscretions enough times. Mainly because I didn’t give a shit, but that’s not the point. She’s right about one thing. I can’t find it in me to plaster a smile, fake or otherwise, on my face when I’m away from Dahlia. I thought I could maintain our arrangement, no problem, but I have no inclination whatsoever to keep Charlotte sweet anymore.
Throwing back my glass of wine, I help myself to her full glass too, downing that one just as quickly.
“I’m going for a piss.” She can find someone else to nag for once. I’m struggling to hold it together tonight. I want to see Dahlia again. I’m like a fucking junkie needing to get my next fix. I head to the men’s room but as the door swings closed behind me, my father barges in.
“Son, you need to snap out of whatever this mood is you’ve been in all evening. I want to sign off on the Harlan deal tonight, and I could do without your head being somewhere else. I won’t let that girl distract you, and I will not let you fuck up years of hard work because you can’t keep your dick in your pants. You have Charlotte for that. She can satisfy your needs. She knows what it takes to support a Banks man. Why do you think I chose your mother?” Bile rises in my throat, and I have to grit my teeth not to vomit on his fucking designer shoes.
“You’re sick.” I hiss at him.
“Jesus Christ, you’re pathetic. It’s embarrassing. I’m ashamed you share the Banks’ name.” He shoves me against the tiled wall, a sneer on his face. “Get out there and start acting like you deserve to be my son.” His eyes are wild, a clear sign he’s seconds from losing control. When he’s like this, all it takes is one wrong word and he’ll explode, and I’d become adept at avoiding his triggers growing up, so I do what I always do. I bite my tongue. Realising he isn’t going to get a rise out of me, he turns his back and takes a leak in the urinal as I stand against the wall, trying not to let his words sting.
Dahlia thought nothing of standing up to him earlier, yet he has the ability to make me feel like a scared kid. Like a disappointment. And he has a point. When it comes down to it, I’m a useless coward. I have no problem standing up to peers, or even holding my own when I’m working for him, but I’m still intimidated by this man. I let out a sharp exhale as he leaves the men’s room.
The rest of the meal passes slowly, and it’s followed by various speeches, the last of which is Mr. Canning, thanking the families individually for each of their large donations. When he mentions Dee’s donation, my eyes briefly meet Dahlia’s across the large hall. She’s so beautiful. Tonight, in her silver dress, my silver-eyed goddess looks incredible. But then she looks incredible in everything. In jeans, or shorts, or her school uniform. It’s nothing to do with her clothes, but because of who she is, and it confirms my earlier assessment that I will never be good enough for her. She deserves better than me. I have nothing to offer her. My father is right. I’m an inadequate son, and I’d be an inadequate boyfriend for Dahlia, there is no point in pretending otherwise.
After the meal, the men move into the library for whiskey and cigars. It’s an annual tradition and where most of the business deals are made. My father beckons me over to where he is sitting, next to a red-faced middle-aged man.
“Grayson, I was just telling Mr. Harlan about how we can fix that problem he’s been having. He’s a little uncertain about committing, but I have assured him he won’t be disappointed with our service. Isn’t that right, Son?” Mr. Harlan is nervously bouncing his leg, as I sit down in the armchair opposite to him.
“Mr. Harlan,” I start, placing a piece of paper down on the table between us. “I know you’re having a few doubts, but I can assure you, Banks Waste Management is the best there is. And if our word isn’t enough, maybe this will be an incentive for you to work with us.” I turn over the piece of paper. Counting to twenty in my head, I watch Mr. Harlan’s face pale as he reads the words printed in black and white and realises what I’m showing him. He gulps audibly before turning to my father.
“I’ll do it,” he tells us, sweat beading on his brow, as I push the guilt down and try to justify my actions internally.
“Good decision George. I’ll take it from here. Thank you, Grayson.” I stand up and pick up the piece of paper, screwing it into a ball before tossing it into the open fire. I watch the flames lick up the sides, before it’s eventually engulfed and becomes nothing but ash.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
GRAYSON
AGE 17
“What have you got for me?” I handed my father an envelope, and he ripped it open, pulling out the photos I’d printed. The sight of them made me feel sick to my stomach. As he flicked through them, his eyes widened and then his whole face lit up with glee. “This is fucking gold. You’ve outdone yourself, Son. Well done.” He slapped me on the back, and my stomach lurched at the thought of what I’d done. For years I yearned to hear him say the words ‘well done’. To hear him praise me for something, anything, but all I felt on hearing his words, was shame.
I obtained the images illegally through the Academy server. They’re stills taken from the school dormitory CCTV. They’re grainy but clear enough to make out the identity of the two male teenagers making out. I didn’t know them well, but one was the son of a prominent politician. My dad was going to use it to blackmail his father. The world won’t care that he has a gay son, but the immediate media coverage would cause enough of a stir to derail his bid for leadership, so he won’t want it coming out now. Fuck knew what my father’s demands would be. Money or perhaps a vote on a planning decision that affects his business? I didn’t fucking know, but what I was absolutely certain of, was that the politician’s son and his friend were innocent, and I was scum. I was the lowest of the fucking low.
GRAYSON - PRESENT
I open my laptop, wait for it to load up and enter my password. I catch up on a few emails and finish off the law assignment that’s due tomorrow before turning to the task I’ve been putting off since last night.
Switching to a tor browser, I access the live security feed for Mr. Harlan’s construction company. I quickly find the feed for the man’s office, and, as I suspected, he’s still there despite the late hour and it being a weekend. He’s shredding documents and nervously looking over his shoulder. Stupid man, it’s too late for that. I have hard copies of everything we need to bring him down, and my father will use them to get what he wants. Harlan should have listened to my warning last night.
