Page 10 of In at the Deep End

He narrowed his gaze. “And would I actually get paid for any of that?”

“Owen says he’ll look up the going rate.”

Matt grinned again. It sounded perfect. Spending the summer outdoors and getting paid to do it?

“Hold your horses. Before you get too excited, this isn’t a done deal. He wants to interview you first.”

He shrugged. “Which won’t be a problem. I can get along with anyone.”

“And there’s one more thing.” Dad paused. “Owen is gay. Or should that be bisexual? He’s been married to both sexes, so I guess that makes him bi.”

He blinked again. “And?” He chuckled. “Dad, have you any idea how many of my friends at uni were LGBTQ+? You make it sound like it’s a problem.” He frowned. “But you never said anything about him being gay before.”

“That’s because he wasn’t. Well, okay, he was, I just didn’t know it back then, and—” Dad sighed. “None of that matters. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.” He gave Matt an affectionate smile. “I should’ve known better. Your generation is so much more comfortable with this kind of thing than mine ever was.”

Matt smiled. “Which I totally get. You grew up in the whole AIDS-is-death era. Section 28. Newspapers calling it the gay plague. It wasn’t exactly an environment that encouraged people to come out.”

Dad’s smile faded. “No, it really wasn’t.” He straightened. “So any time you’re ready, go next door and have a chat. He’s a good guy. You’ll probably meet his son too who’s only a bit older than you.”

Matt had had enough of stressing over boxes.

“I might as well go now.” He glanced at his jeans and tee. “I guess I don’t need to dress up.”

Dad waved a hand. “You look fine. Just be you.” Then he gave Matt an unexpected hug. “And in case I haven’t said it yet, it’s good to have you home.”

Matt bit back a smile. “Under your feet?”

Dad laughed. “Yeah.” He headed for the door. “Now go and impress Owen.”

He listened to the sound of Dad’s footsteps on the stairs before glancing at the mirrored wardrobe door.

I’ll do. I mean, what does a pool guy-cum-gardener wear anyway?

Matt walked over the gravel towards the front door. Every house on South Drive was different, and he’d always liked the look of this one.

It was a broad, detached place built in warm red brick, with weathered clay tiles climbing to a steep roof broken by dormer windows and a wide gable clad in faded shingles. It had probably been built in the eighties or nineties, but years of careful maintenance had softened its edges. Nothing shouted for attention.

The front garden was immaculate without being fussy. Rounded shrubs sat among ornamental grasses and flowering borders.

Well, I won’t be working out front, that’s for certain.

A neat gravel drive curved towards the detached garage, while the solid oak front door sat beneath a sheltered porch.

Before he had a chance to ring the bell, the door opened.

Owen Lane was maybe an inch or two taller than Matt, with broad shoulders and muscular upper arms. His beard was mostly silver streaked with dark grey, but it was his dark eyes that grabbed Matt’s attention. They spoke of intelligence and humour.

Then he smiled. “Dear Lord, it’s like looking at your dad.”

It was a good voice, deep and rich. Which in Matt’s book was a good start. He’d had a couple of professors whose voices either put you to sleep, or felt like nails scraping over rusty metal.

Matt laughed. “Mum says that a lot. My brother and sister take after her.” He held his hand out. “I’m Matt.”

Owen shook it. “Owen.” He cocked his head to one side. “I’m going to assume you like your dad’s idea.” His eyes twinkled. “That’s if he gave you a choice. He’d have had your life signed away for the summer if I hadn’t insisted on you getting some input. And of course, me actually meeting you.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Dad.” Matt held his arms open. “So here I am.”

“Come on in and we’ll talk.” Owen stood aside, and Matt stepped into the cool interior.