The Cockney Canuck - 169. Chapter 169 Sports Cars, Yachts, and Expensive Holidays

"You know what, Rory? I'm glad you're not my boyfriend. I need a normal friend in my life to do normal friend things with, like watching boring cup finals. If we were lovers, all we'd be doing is shagging all the time, and I doubt if we would have seen any of that rubbish game."

My friend switched off the television and collapsed onto his bed beside me.

"That was very profound. But it's not like you saw much of the game. You were asleep for most of the second half."

I smiled apologetically and blamed him for suggesting we watch it in his room.

"What did you expect? This is way too comfortable. I need a bed like this. My one's too small, and it sags in the middle."

"I know," said Rory with a smirk. "I've seen it."

"It was okay until Daniel jumped on it. Something broke, and it hasn't been the same since."

Rory giggled. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

I propped my head on my elbow and frowned at my smiling friend.

"I was talking about my bed."

"Sorry. I misunderstood."

"Cheeky git! What did you think I was talking about?"

He laughed. "What did Nicola call you, shrimp dick?"

"That’s not funny, Rory.”

He nudged me in the ribs. “I’m only teasing you; there’s nothing wrong with your dick. It looks okay and nothing like a shrimp. Nicola doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Based on what I had heard, I was inclined to disagree with his last point, but Nicola’s opinion didn’t matter. It was all about the cute blonde boy lying next to me. I was chuffed that he thought my penis looked okay and happier still that he felt the need to tell me. It was a bold statement coming from a supposed straight guy and another tantalising clue to keep my troubled mind in a perpetual state of turmoil.

“Thanks, Rory. I’m glad you like my dick.” I laughed and rolled away from him before he could lash out.

“I didn’t say I liked it. I said it looks okay. Can we talk about something else? This is getting weird.”

“Okay, we can talk about the Eurovision Song Contest instead. It’s tonight, and I’m gonna miss it again. They don’t show it over here.”

“The Euro what?”

“Song contest. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it.”

Rory yawned and closed his eyes. “I’ve never heard of it, but it sounds cheesy.”

“Oh, it’s super cheesy but hilarious. You’re not going to sleep, are you?”

“No, I’m just closing my eyes.”

“That’s the same thing, though, isn’t it?” Rory didn’t answer, so I sat up and leaned over him.

“I can see you,” he said, and I quickly retreated.

“I’m bored. Why don’t we go out somewhere?”

“Later. I’m tired.”

I was also tired but didn’t want to sleep, so I searched the shelf above his bed for something to read. Rory had a good selection of books, but something else grabbed my attention—a small pencil-like flashlight similar to the ones doctors use to examine your eyes. I sat next to my friend and used it to look into his ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ve got eyes at the back of my head, you know.”

I rested my back against his headboard and chuckled to myself. I could remember my mom using that expression whenever I did something naughty. She didn’t need eyes at the back of her head, just a mother’s instinct and Rory seemed to have the same gift, or maybe he just knew me better than I thought.

It was gone midday, and Nathan still hadn’t called, so I checked my phone to see if there were any messages. I was expecting some kind of an apology following last night’s debacle, but the only text was from Sue, reminding me to come home early. I wondered what her surprise was before returning my attention to my friend.

He seemed to be asleep, which presented me with an irresistible opportunity to get close and look in places I wouldn’t usually be allowed, like his mouth. It was an area of particular interest to me, so I shuffled closer and pointed the flashlight at his slightly opened gob.

That’s when I noticed them for the first time—dozens of tiny, almost transparent hairs growing above his lip.

‘No way!’

This was a significant development, so I woke my friend by pinching his nostrils together and cutting off his air supply.

He snorted and pushed my hand away. “You are the most annoying person I have ever met.”

I smiled at his compliment. “I know, but this is important. You’ve got hair on your face.”

“You woke me up just to tell me that?” he groaned. “So, what.”

“What do you mean, so what? You’re gonna have to start shaving, that’s what.”

“I know that, dummy. So will you when you finally hit puberty. Now leave me alone.”

“That’s not funny.” I rubbed my face, but there was nothing there. “Maybe I’m a late developer. I didn’t start wanking until I was fourteen.”

Rory opened his eyes and lifted his head to smile at me. “That’s too much information, dude. I didn’t need to know that. And before you ask me how old I was, I’m not gonna tell you.”

I sneered at my friend. It was going to be my next question.

“So, when are you gonna start shaving?”

Rory moaned and reluctantly sat up. “You’re not gonna let me sleep, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“My dad bought me some razors, but I’m too scared to use them.”

“Don’t worry, I can do it for you. I know what I’m doing. I had to shave Nathan once.”

“That’s bullshit. He doesn’t need to shave.”

“Not his face, silly.”

“Oh!” He thought about what I said and glared at me. “Really? He allowed you to do that?”

“It was his idea. He thought it would be sexy. I can do yours, too, if you want.”

“No, thanks!” My friend cupped his groin and instinctively moved away.

“I’m good at it. I only cut him once, and that was just a tiny nick. It bled a lot, though and wrecked his sheets.” Rory looked horrified, so I laughed and put him out of his misery. “Don’t worry, I’m only joking. There’s no way Nathan would let me anywhere near his knackers with a razor.”

“I don’t blame him. Neither would I.”

“Can I feel them?”

“You want to feel my balls?”

“Not now, Rory. I was talking about the hairs on your lip.” I shook my head in disgust. “No wonder everyone in school thinks you're gay.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He tried to protest his innocence, but I wouldn’t listen.

“You should have told me about this sooner. I need to know when my best friend starts growing facial hair.”

“Why? It’s not important.”

“Of course, it’s important. You know what this means, don’t you?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“It means you’re a man, Rory!”

My friend remained deadpan as he looked me in the eye. “Not much escapes you, does it? What was it that gave me away?”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Where else have you got hair that you’re not telling me about? Show me your chest.” I lifted the bottom of his football shirt and tried to pull it over his head, but Rory slapped my hands away.

“Stoppit. I haven’t got any hair on my chest. I’m sure you would have noticed by now if I had.”

I didn’t like the way he said that. It seemed to imply that I was always looking at him, which was true, and he knew it, but he wasn’t supposed to tell me that he knew it.

I decided to quit before he pointed out any more of my weaknesses. So, I put my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling.

“Do you feel any different now that you’re a man?”

Rory giggled. “What kind of question is that? I feel exactly the same as I’ve always felt.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want you to change and get all serious and responsible all of a sudden.” I knew I wasn’t making much sense, but he always listened to my ramblings no matter how incoherent I became. The only other person who did that was Jo, and only because it was her job. “Do you ever wonder what you’ll be doing in ten years?”

“No, do you?”

“Sometimes. Do you think we’ll still be friends?”

“I dunno. I hope so.”

“So do I.” I looked across at my friend and smiled before poking him in the stomach. “But you said I was the most annoying person you ever met.”

“You are, but that’s why I like you.”

“You like me because I’m annoying? Really? I can be even more annoying if you want.” I grabbed his sides and then retreated and rolled into a ball to protect myself as he retaliated with a flurry of cushioned slaps across my arms and legs.

“You are so immature. I can’t believe you’re going to be a father soon.”

I didn’t expect that. We never discussed Stephanie’s pregnancy. It was a topic guaranteed to wipe the smile from my face and bring me down.

“I’m not going to be a real father,” I insisted, frowning at my friend.

Rory laughed. “That’s silly. You’ll still be a father even if you never see the kid. You can’t get out of it.”

“I’m not trying to get out of it. I want to be involved, but Stephanie won’t let me. Her parents think I’m a bad influence.”

It was old news that I didn’t like revisiting, and my tone made it known that I wasn’t happy. I could see Rory looking at me from the corner of my eye.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. They don’t want the kid to have a gay dad, so I’m not allowed any contact.”

“But they can’t do that.”

“They can do whatever they want as long as Stephanie agrees. It’s not like we’re married or anything.”

“I didn’t know. You never talk about it. I just assumed you didn’t want to be involved; that’s what everyone else thinks. I wouldn’t blame you either; I wouldn’t want that responsibility.”

“Well, you’re wrong!” I snapped. “But I don’t care what people think anymore. It’s one of the advantages of dating Nathan. You develop thick skin.”

Rory chuckled but only out of politeness, and I could see he was concerned as he drew a deep breath and moved closer.

“Stephanie’s crazy. She should have accepted your offer and got you to marry her. That’s what I would have done.” It was an odd statement to make—a blonde moment that he insisted on trying to explain. “If I was Stephanie, that is, and only if I was pregnant, which I’m not, obviously. Don’t look at me like that.”

I shook my head at my blushing friend. I would have married him in a heartbeat, but not Stephanie.

“It’s not about her. It’s about the kid. I know he’s going to grow up hating me, just like I hated my dad, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

“You can talk to me if you want. You know, about stuff that bothers you. I’m not a therapist, and I can’t make things better, but I’m good at listening.”

Rory was, without doubt, the sweetest boy I ever met, with a heart of gold to match his unruly mop of hair, but he was wrong when he said he couldn’t make things better. He did it to me all the time, and he was doing it again. It was impossible to feel bad about anything with him lying beside me.

“I love you, Rory.” I was blushing like a virgin, but it needed to be said. “Not in a gay way, because I know you don’t like that, but as a friend.”

He smiled and shocked me with his reply. “I don’t mind if it’s in a gay way, just don’t tell your boyfriend.”

I took it as a joke—an intimate joke designed to rattle and tease me to the bone as only Rory could do—but a joke nevertheless, and it deserved a physical response.

“I won’t tell anyone if you let me shave you.” I lunged towards him to feel his face, but he grabbed my arms and pushed me away.

“No!”

“Go on, get the razor, and I’ll cover you in shaving foam.”

Rory held onto my wrists and managed to push me back to the edge of his bed. He was stronger than I thought, and I was headed for the floor, so I hooked my legs around his waist and turned it into a wrestling match.

Unlike Daniel, who felt the need to challenge me physically at every given opportunity—Rory rarely engaged in play fighting, so this was a new experience and one I was determined to exploit.

I allowed him to push me off the bed and then dragged him with me, but my surreptitious attempt to manoeuvre us into a compromising position backfired when his mom walked in.

She came to complain about the noise and ruined what could have been a beautiful moment. There were a few awkward seconds between Rory landing on top of me and the door opening that could have changed everything. It felt like a scene from a movie—a fleeting moment when our laughter stopped, and we froze to look into each other’s eyes. In Hollywood, this was when Rory was supposed to kiss me, but life is never that perfect.

“What are you boys doing?”

Rory’s dreamy smile vanished when he heard his mom’s voice. He looked up in horror and jumped to his feet, leaving me staring at the ceiling and wondering what the fuck just happened.

“Nothing,” said Rory and that was the truth, but no one would have believed him. He looked flushed, nervous, and up to his neck in guilt.

There weren’t many plausible excuses for lying on top of your friend on the bedroom floor, but at least we had our clothes on, so I decided to go with the truth.

“We were fighting and fell off the bed.”

His mom raised her eyebrows and looked sceptical. “Fighting?”

“It wasn’t a real fight,” added Rory. “We were only playing.”

“I know what you were doing, love. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

Rory watched her walk away before closing the door and looking sheepishly across the room at me.

“I don’t think she believed me.”

I shrugged. “I’m not surprised. You’re such a bad liar; even I don’t believe you, and I know you’re telling the truth.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

It wasn’t the only thing that didn’t make sense. I was still trying to process what happened before his mom interrupted, and wondering if there was any way we could pick up where we left off.

It didn’t seem likely. That ship had already sailed, and I wasn’t sure when or if it would ever return. I blamed Rory’s mom for interrupting, and despite her almost comical underreaction, her position in my list of favourite people plummeted to near rock bottom.

Rory offered me his hand. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You mean when you were lying on top of me?” I could tell he was embarrassed and had trouble looking me in the eye as he pulled me to my feet.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I quite enjoyed it. You’re a little heavier than what I’m used to, that’s all.” I was referring to Nathan, who was considerably lighter than my cuddly friend, although I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to make that comparison.

Rory refused to take the bait or discuss the matter further, but it bugged me for the rest of the day, and I was sure it bothered him, too. After that, he went into his shell and turned into the quiet, unassuming Rory of old. I struggled to make him laugh, and when I told him I had to go home, he didn’t object.

“Sue’s got a surprise for me.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, Rory. It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled and helped lift my oversized backpack onto my shoulders before stepping away awkwardly. “I hope it’s something nice.”

I stood outside the front door but refused to leave. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He looked worried, and I could almost see his mind working, but it came back blank.

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t I get a hug anymore?”

Rory relaxed and wrapped his arms around me for a loose, rather tepid hug, but it was better than nothing. We rarely parted without a cuddle, and I wasn’t going to let an awkward moment from earlier deprive me of that pleasure.

“Is that better,” he said.

“It’ll have to do, I suppose.”

It made me wonder what would have happened to our friendship if Rory’s mom hadn’t walked in on us when she did. There were times when I would have given anything to swap spit with her son without ever considering the consequences. Nothing happened, but it was still enough to make things awkward between us. A roll in the hay with my best friend, however tempting, could have destroyed our friendship forever and wrecked my relationship with Nathan.

I thought about it on the way home and began to see it as a lucky escape rather than a missed opportunity. Even kissing Rory would have been cheating on Nathan, and I didn’t want to do that, especially after taking the moral high ground over Simon’s voyeuristic shenanigans the previous night.

One of the things that made Rory so appealing was his unavailability. It meant I could flirt with him, knowing there was no chance of him ever calling my bluff, but now I wasn’t so sure. It was a dangerous game to play and one that was likely to backfire with profound implications.

As much as I hated to admit it, Nathan was probably right. Rory wasn’t gay, but under the right circumstances, he was curious enough to swing both ways. Maybe just once or twice, but that was all it would take. Then, after deciding the grass was greener on the other side, I would be left high and dry without either boy in my life. It was the worst possible scenario and something that Nathan had been trying to warn me about without success.

The solution was to stop flirting with Rory and treat him like the friend I wanted him to be. That meant no more wrestling, fewer hugs, and definitely no sleepovers. The less physical contact we had the better our chances of remaining friends, but it was a lot to ask, and it seemed to go against every instinct I possessed.

*     *     *

It was late in the afternoon when the taxi stopped outside our house, and the driver retrieved my backpack from the trunk. As I struggled to get it through the front door, Sue was waiting for me in the hallway. She grabbed my hand and led me through the kitchen to the back door.

I guessed what her surprise was the moment I stepped onto the balcony. I could smell the chlorine and hear the splashes of water.

“You got the pool fixed.”

“Yes, dear. They did it today.”

I stood next to her and peered over the wooden balustrade just in time to see my brother jump cannonball-style into the middle of the pool. The resulting splash made Amy scream and soaked Nicola, who was sitting on the edge helping her sister. After swearing at Daniel, Nicola heard me laughing and looked up to give me the finger.

It was nice to see the family having fun again, but despite a sabbatical of nearly eight months, I didn’t feel an immediate need to return to the water.

Amy was the opposite; she was taking swimming lessons at school and was eager to show me her new skills. She shouted to get my attention before splashing her way across the pool with inflatable rings on her arms.

“She doesn’t need those rings any more. They’re just making it more difficult for her.”

Sue smiled, and I could tell she valued my input. “She won’t let me take them off, but she’ll listen to you. Why don’t you go and show her?”

It was still warm enough to look inviting, and I hadn’t been swimming since the tail end of last summer. It was a long time for a kid who used to swim every day, but for the first time ever, I felt a little apprehensive.

Nicola was fuming and obviously braless when she joined us on the balcony with a wet T-shirt to complain about Daniel.

“He did that on purpose,” she said before turning her giant nipples towards me for the second time in as many days. “What’s up with you? Why aren’t you in the pool?”

“You still have time for a quick swim before dinner,” added Sue.

“I’m tired,” I said, trying hard not to be intimidated by my sister’s threepenny bits.

Nicola noticed my discomfort and covered her chest with her arm. “Does it bother you that much?” She didn’t wait for my reply. Sue gave her a look, and Nicola stomped downstairs to get changed, stopping briefly to chase Daniel around the pool.

“You shouldn’t let things like that bother you,” said Sue. “It’s part of living in a family.”

It didn’t bother me as much as I pretended, but I think Sue already knew that. There wasn’t much that she didn’t know about me, although occasionally, I still surprised her, and I could sense her disappointment over my reluctance to use the pool.

It didn’t make sense to me either, and I didn’t have an answer as she continued to press me.

“Is everything okay, dear? You look troubled.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t feel like going swimming at the moment! Is that okay?”

My abrupt tone made Sue back off. “Suit yourself, dear. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

I had already eaten at Rory’s house but didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t hungry.

*    *    *

It was gone nine, and I was outside relaxing on the patio when Nathan finally called to test the waters. He seemed surprised that I wasn’t mad at him, but I was too consumed with my own guilt to feel any animosity towards my boyfriend. It was a gift to Nathan, who, as expected, blamed Simon for what he called a silly misunderstanding and immediately changed the subject to something he knew I would appreciate.

“Azerbaijan won the Eurovision Song Contest. I was reading about it on the internet.”

“Azer-who? Is that even a country?”

“I know, right? I’ve never heard of it either, so maybe they just made it up. Your country finished eleventh, by the way. Not very good, is it.”

“My country?”

“You’re English, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Don’t try to get out of it. You can’t change your nationality just because you lost a song contest to a country that doesn’t exist. Oh, I forgot to tell you, I won’t be at school on Monday. My dad’s taking me to Toronto to meet the production team and sign a contract.”

This was big news, but he made it sound almost routine like it wasn’t important to him. Not as important as Azerbaijan winning Eurovision. He must have known about this for some time, and I wondered how it was possible to forget to tell me.

“That’s great.”

“I know. Everything’s happening really quickly now, and I’m starting to get nervous. I’ve got a lot to do in a short space of time.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to pull your finger out then, aren’t you?”

“My finger isn’t in anything.”

“That makes a change. Never mind, it’s just an expression. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“I hope so. I’ll meet the director on Monday. I’ve heard he’s very demanding, which is just my luck. There’s so much I have to learn; I’ve never done anything like this before. Ginny and Simon said they’d help, but I won’t be able to do it without the most important person by my side.”

He left a gap for me to insert the name but I had no idea who he was talking about. “Your drama teacher?”

“No, you moron. I mean you. You’re the absolute most important person in the world to me, Robbie. You should know that by now. That’s why I need your help. I can’t do this on my own, you know.”

I wasn’t sure what he needed me to do because he wouldn’t stop talking long enough for me to ask, but I was pleased that he considered me absolutely more important to his career than Ginny or Simon—two of the biggest losers I had ever met.

Maybe I was a little harsh, but neither of them had been particularly friendly to me in the past, and they were never shy about venting their feelings. They didn’t consider me worthy of being Nathan’s boyfriend, probably because I didn’t follow him around all day, agree with everything he said, and put him on a pedestal.

Despite his vote of confidence, I lost interest in the conversation when he mentioned Ginny and Simon and began searching for an excuse to hang up.

“I gotta go, Nathan. My sister wants to talk to me, and I think it’s urgent.”

Nicola was clearing up around the pool while she waited for Mr Lube. When I finished talking to Nathan, she called me over.

“What do you want?”

“Why didn’t you go swimming earlier?”

“I was tired. Why is it so important to everyone? I’ll go swimming tomorrow.”

My sister huffed. “You can be so rude at times. It cost mom a lot of money to fix up the pool. We can’t afford it, but she did it for you.”

I already suspected that was the case.

“Well, she didn’t need to.”

“That’s what I said, but she won’t listen. You’re her favourite lately. She’s always trying to please you, even spending money she hasn’t got because she feels sorry for you. The least you could do is show some gratitude. I don’t care if you’re tired; you better get in that pool tomorrow and look like you’re enjoying it.”

As she marched into the house, I stood at the edge of the pool, watching the lights from the deck dance across the shimmering surface. It was a familiar sight and one that filled my head with memories. I pictured myself in the Olympic-sized pool at Crystal Palace. It was one of the venues where my mom used to coach, and when I wasn’t at school, she would take me with her.

I was a little more advanced than Amy—ten years old and already diving from the springboard and passing through hoops at the bottom with the grace and confidence of someone much older. It wasn’t that long ago, but my life had changed so much that those memories no longer had any relevance.

Mr Lube made me jump. “What’s up, kid? It’s a little late to go swimming.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Fuck, that’s not good. If you hear any noises in the night, don’t get up. If I get hammered tonight, me and your sister might go skinny dipping when we get home.”

I was horrified by the thought.

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll board up the windows just in case.”

He stood beside me and glanced back towards the house before taking a half-smoked joint from his pocket.

“I can’t let Nicola see me smoking this, or she won’t get in the car with me.”

He used me as a screen but only managed a couple of puffs before Nicola came outside to look for him. “Shit, I gotta go. You can have the rest.” He fanned the air in front of his face and handed me what was left of the joint before joining my sister at the side of the house.

I turned my back to the house and took three or four long drags until it burnt my fingers, then flicked what was left into a bush. After that joint, the pool looked a little friendlier, and I promised myself I would go swimming in the morning if only to please Sue.

*     *     *

Sunday was warmer, but the water was still cold. Nicola watched from a lounger as I swam a few rusty laps and waited for Amy to join me. My little sister was excited to see me in the pool, and I convinced her that she didn’t need her armbands. Sue clapped from the balcony as Amy swam the length of the pool unaided with me in her wake. It wasn’t pretty, but she stayed afloat before clinging to the side in the deep end and giggling with nervous excitement.

I wasn’t much of a teacher, but I got a kick from helping my little sister, and her confidence grew with leaps and bounds. She trusted me implicitly, which probably wasn’t a good idea. I was out of shape and my strokes were laboured and clumsy, but more importantly, I lacked the motivation that I once had in abundance. Whatever it was that attracted me to the water when I was younger wasn’t there anymore. The spark was extinguished when my mom died, and there was nothing that I could do to get it back.

It was less than two years since I passed my lifesavers exam, but I must have looked like a novice as I struggled to stay afloat with Amy on my back. It shook me up as I reached for the side of the pool, coughing and spluttering.

“The next thing you have to learn,” I gasped, “is how to tread water.”

Amy laughed, but my old instructor would have gone berserk. It was like I suddenly forgot everything I was taught.

‘Some lifesaver I turned out to be.’

As far as I was concerned, if I couldn’t save Amy in a tiny backyard swimming pool, what chance would I have of saving a fully grown adult in the sea? My mom would have been disappointed and her voice was ringing in my ears as we were joined by Daniel.

He could smell blood and circled me like a shark. He must have sensed an opportunity to exact revenge on his ailing brother, but I ignored his attempts to goad me into a race I was sure to lose and swam to the ladder. My long-awaited return to the water was uninspiring, and the scorched patio was burning my feet, so I grabbed my towel and hopped to the deck to confront Nicola.

“Are you happy now?”

She looked over her sunglasses and removed her earphones. “You’re dripping water on me.”

“Good. You can have some more.” I shook my head, doggy style, at her and ran inside, nearly colliding with Sue in the basement. She talked to me through the bedroom door while I was changing.

“When you’re dry, dear, can you come upstairs? Don’s here, and he wants to talk to you.”

He was supposed to be moving out, so I assumed he wanted me to help carry some of his belongings. I was still drying my hair when I strolled into the upstairs living room to complain.

“I’m not doing it on my own, you know.”

Don was talking to Sue and taking up most of the three-seat sofa. He looked up at me, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I hated that extra-wide smile. It was totally false and usually a forerunner to bad news.

“What are you talking about, Robbie? Sit down; Sue said you wanted to see me.”

“He wants to talk about his trust fund,” said Sue. She pointed to the armchair opposite before standing in the middle like a boxing referee.

“I just thought it might be easier if she handles it from now on,” I said.

“Why?” said Don. “You won’t be able to do anything until you’re eighteen. I thought you knew that.”

“He does,” said Sue. “But he needs to be kept informed. He hasn’t even received a statement.”

“He never asked for one. In fact, he hasn’t shown any interest in it at all until now. It sounds like someone’s been putting ideas in his head.”

“Don, please. Let’s not go down that road. You know it’s your responsibility to keep him up to date.”

“You’re right, it is my responsibility, and there’s a good reason why I haven’t done this. I wanted to wait until he was older so it doesn’t distract him from his schoolwork.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Sue. “He’s doing well at school. How would it distract him?”

They had a habit of doing this—talking about me as if I weren’t there. When I dared to agree with Sue, Don grunted and finally turned his attention to me.

“You don’t need a statement. I can tell you what you want to know.” He paused to check his phone and clear his throat, keeping me on tenterhooks for as long as possible. “The fund is doing well, and thanks to me, it’s worth a lot more now than it was when I set it up. Most of the money is held in low-risk bonds and securities, and the returns are automatically re-invested. This portfolio is currently worth about two hundred and twenty thousand. But your biggest asset is the apartment in London. If you sold it today at market value, it would fetch somewhere in the region of six hundred thousand pounds. The current exchange rate is about one dollar sixty to the pound; you can do the math yourself.”

It took me a lot longer than it should have—enough time for Don to make a quick phone call, but I wanted to ensure I got it right. I glanced open-mouthed at Sue before blurting at Don.

“Nine hundred and sixty thousand!”

“Those extra math lessons were worth it in the end,” said Don, but he wasn’t finished. “The apartment is also a regular source of income, and the rent, less the property management fees, is deposited monthly into a high-interest savings account in the UK. The last time I looked, the balance was about fifteen thousand pounds. If you add it all together the fund is worth just over one point two million dollars.”

It was a lot more than I expected, and it must have been written across my face. My mind was filled with sports cars, yachts, and expensive holidays. While Don rambled about the importance of not getting carried away, I pictured myself sipping Champagne in a hot tub with Rory, although I wasn’t sure how he made it into my daydream.

Sue had to reel me in. “Are you listening, dear?”

“What?”

“This money isn’t meant to be a windfall,” said Don. “It’s to secure your long-term future and provide you with the solid foundation you’ll need if you’re going to be successful. It will pay your college fees if you opt for further education and provide a regular income if you invest most of it. That’s what Elizabeth wanted.”

“But I don’t need to go to college; I’m already rich!”

Don shook his head and turned to Sue. “I rest my case. This is why I didn’t want him to know. He’s not mature enough.”

“He’s getting better,” said Sue, but she didn’t sound convincing.

“I am mature. It’s not like I’m gonna blow it all in a couple of weeks, but I’m allowed to have some fun. Do you think the town will let me hire the beach for one night so I can throw a big party?”

“No, Robbie.”

“Why not? You can come too. Just don’t bring the pastor; he’ll drink all the booze.”

Don did well to maintain his composure as I pushed him to the limit, fuelled by a heady mixture of teenage exuberance and rich-boy entitlement. I enjoyed watching him squirm and could see his hands twitching, but he resisted the urge to chase me around the room.

Sue managed to diffuse a potentially volatile situation. “You mustn’t talk that way about the pastor, dear.”

‘But you hate him!’

“He’s over-excited,” said Don. “When you turn eighteen, we can sit down with my financial advisor and decide what’s best for you going forward.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll prove to you I can be responsible.”

“You won’t have to,” said Don. “There are certain conditions that have to be met, remember, and Elizabeth was very specific about these. That’s why she asked me to be the trustee.”

“I suppose it’s best then not to make any changes,” said Sue. “It’s been a difficult time. I think he just needed some reassurance.”

I was still thinking about what Don said. “Wait a minute. What conditions?”

“I’ll ask the bank to do a review,” said Don. “Robbie can come with me if he wants.”

“What are the conditions?”

“That would be helpful. He needs to feel more involved,” said Sue.

I had to wave my arms in the air to get their attention. “Hello! Can someone tell me what these conditions are?”

“Didn’t Elizabeth explain them to you?” Don tried to look concerned, but I could see fire behind those devilish eyes and could almost hear him laughing on the inside.

“No, this is the first I’ve heard about any conditions.”

“Well, it’s nothing to worry about. They’re for your protection. Your mother was concerned about giving a lump sum this size to a teenager with no experience handling money.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why she insisted on these conditions. They’re designed to secure your future by limiting how much you can withdraw over a specified period. It’s to stop you from squandering it all on drink and drugs and judging by the company you keep, it was a wise decision.”

Until then, he sounded congenial, and I was happy to listen, but I should have known it wouldn’t last, and Sue was forced to respond.

“Don’t talk to him like that. Robbie doesn’t drink or do drugs, and neither do his friends.”

I tentatively agreed, but Don scoffed at the idea.

“The moment word gets out that you’ve got money, every loser in Cobourg will wanna be your friend. Even with the restrictions, they’ll find ways to get to your money, and you’re gullible enough to let them do it.”

“You’re not being fair,” said Sue, but he did have a point.

“Do you really think the freaks you hang around with will be concerned about your future? They’ll be concerned about their next fix or party, but your financial well-being will be the last thing that bothers them.” He stopped to wipe his brow and acknowledge Nicola at the top of the stairs. She must have heard his loud voice and was anxious to discover what was happening.

“Hi, Daddy. What brings you here?”

“I live here, remember?”

“But I thought you were moving out.” Nicola kissed her dad on the forehead and stood beside the couch. “I need my bedroom back. It’s not nice sharing a basement with two teenage boys. I have no privacy.”

She made it sound like she was the victim when it was the other way around. I think even Don knew this because he ignored her concerns to continue abusing my friends.

“Think about what I said. They don’t care about you. They’re freeloaders, and they won’t leave you alone until the money runs out or you die, whichever happens sooner.”

Nicola was confused. “Who are you talking about?”

“My friends,” I said.

“But you haven’t got any.”

Don forced a smile and stood up to put his arm around my shoulder for an uncomfortable fatherly-type hug that didn’t suit him. “You’ll thank me when you're older, Robbie.”

I wasn’t sure what to think, but I suspected Don was exaggerating. I knew my mom wouldn’t have made it difficult for me to access the money because that’s what it was there for, so it was likely that these restrictions would be quite generous. Don had no direct access to the funds, and I had only fifteen months until my eighteenth birthday, so I agreed with Sue. Making changes to the fund at this late stage was pointless, especially as it was doing so well.

Other than implying I was stupid and calling my friends a load of freeloading freaks who were only out to steal my money, Don was quite pleasant to me that day. He asked me how I was doing at school and then gave me sixty dollars.

“It’s your allowance; I stopped paying you because you already had money you brought over from England. How much have you got left in your account?”

“Only a couple of hundred.”

“Okay, I suppose I had better put you back on the payroll.”

I didn’t like taking money from him or the thought of being on his payroll, but after turning me into a millionaire, it was difficult for me to hate him with the same gusto as before. I almost felt guilty for accepting it and was forced to admit it was possible that Don really did have my best interests at heart. He was a bully, a bigot, and a religious homophobe, but he had to have some redeeming qualities.