Page 32 of Boy Friends
‘And what a delight it was to discover that you evenerased our family name from your life,’ Graham says, striking with the precision of a scorpion.
‘You did what?’ Anna hisses.
For once, Dad has the decency to look guilty. ‘Brandenburg would have pulled too much attention, so when Luca was born, Poppy and I decided it was best to take her name.’
That’s when the meaning sinks in. I never questioned my surname, why would I? It’s only normal that I share my parents’ name. But Mum and Dad aren’t married, never have been. If things had panned out differently, I wouldn’t be Luca Dean, I’d be Luca Brandenburg. I have no idea what to make of that.
Graham looks at Dad with disdain. ‘You hate us so much that you struck us from your family tree.’
‘I did what I thought was best for Poppy and Luca. And I don’t regret it.’
The last part he directs at me. It’s all I need to hear. This surreal situation is enough to take in as it is. I will need time to mull it over, but I have seventeen years of evidence that he’s a good dad – recent hiccups aside – regardless of surname.
‘And I don’t hate you,’ Dad adds in a voice just above a whisper. Neither Anna nor Graham reacts. Their faces stay blank and rigid.
‘Would you like to come see it?’ I throw in, not even trying to be subtle about changing the topic. Someone needs to defuse the situation, and no one else seems willing.
‘The cafe?’ Anna asks, confounded.
‘It’s our life. It’s where I grew up. And Dad’s an amazing cook. Maybe you’d like to visit it – properly, I mean. Wecould have lunch there sometime.’
Dad laughs but it’s more of a bark. ‘Luca, that’s very nice, but you’ve heard what my parents make of diners. The grease, the sugar.’ He pauses. ‘The commoners.’
So much for defusing.
‘I agree with Luca, it’s a nice idea,’ Anna replies with a voice like honey. ‘We’d love to take you up on your offer.’
For a second, it seems as if that’s taken the wind out of Dad’s sails, but he swiftly tries a different strategy. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asks.
‘Straight for the jugular, I see,’ Graham retorts.
‘As is the Brandenburg way.’
‘We want to know our grandson. And reunite with you. Is that so wrong?’ Anna replies.
‘Why now?’ Dad presses.
‘Well, after your disappearing act, it took a while to find you.’
‘I’m sure it didn’t take you seventeen years, Mother.’
‘Don’t call me that, I’m no crone.’
‘You’re right, Matthew. We’ve known of your whereabouts for a while,’ Graham admits. ‘But you made it decidedly clear that you wished no contact.’
‘And yet, you’redecidedlyhere.’
Silence stretches as Dad waits for their answer. Unsure what to say or do – and curious what the answer is going to be – I take a sip of the wine and barely manage not to spit it back out. That’s bathwater in a bottle. It takes all my willpower to swallow. I pluck a fig from the platter to get rid of the awful taste.
‘We’ve decided to take a step back from the business,’Anna offers eventually. ‘Find somewhere to settle, enjoy the peace and quiet.’
‘To put it plainly, we’re retiring,’ Graham adds.
Dad is not convinced. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I’m growing tired of fighting you, Matthew. There is no hidden motive or grand scheme. After three decades of running the company, it’s only natural to desire a change of pace,’ Graham says.
‘And that’s entirely unrelated to you picking at your salmon while you ignore the slab of steak that cost more than my monthly energy bill? And what about the wine? Neither of you has touched your glass.’
