Chapter 24

 

Thirty minutes away from Mum’s house, I decided it was still way too early in the morning to go dragging her out of bed. Mason agreed, and asked John to drive us to The Randolph Hotel in the centre of Oxford. As with Moonfleet Manor, it was not the kind of establishment to rent rooms by the hour, although they seemed happy enough to make an exception for an internationally famous rock star. Chauffeur John returned to London, after Mason told him we would take a taxi to my mother’s later in the day.

I’d passed the building dozens of times before, but had never set foot inside. It was nice, although I thought it had a kind of old, fashioned gentlemen’s club feel to it with all the deep greens and reds, and wood panelling. Our large room, however, had a more modern décor. It was light and airy, and had a great view of the Ashmoleum Museum on the other side of the road.

The big bed looked inviting, but suddenly I was no longer as tired as I had been. Mason and I attacked each other with a passionate intensity, as though we had been apart for months instead of a couple of days. I didn’t remember getting undressed. Rather, our clothes seemed to fall onto the floor of their own accord, before Mason picked me up and threw me onto the bed. He landed on top of me, his mouth seeking my lips hungrily.

There was an unwelcome, but thankfully brief, interruption while Mason jumped off the bed to find lube and condoms. Then he was back, making quick work of prepping me before he pushed inside. Despite the urgency of our coupling, we didn’t fuck. We made love. Mason was slow and considerate, showering me with kisses, putting my needs, my satisfaction, before his own. Afterward, sated, we slept wrapped in each other’s arms.

By the time we woke, it had gone noon. We’d only had a few hours of sleep, but, even so, we had stayed in bed longer than I had intended. I showered quickly, while Mason called down to the front desk for a taxi. Then he showered while I cleaned my teeth and dressed. However late we were, turning up at my mother’s house with the smell of sex and sweat on our bodies was not really an option.

Less than an hour later, we were pulling up outside the neat, three-bedroomed, semi-detached house I had grown up in. Belatedly, I realised I had forgotten to call her and tell her we were coming. Maybe, in part, it had been a deliberate oversight, because I hadn’t wanted to explain about Mason and give her the chance to tell me not to bring him. She’d be annoyed that I’d sprung him on her, but I doubted she would want to cause a scene in front of the snooty neighbours. Even before we stepped out of the taxi, I could see curtains twitching. Probably, Mavis, on the right hand-side, had already phoned Linda on the left, to alert her to the fact Alice’s boy was home from London. And he had a man with him!

Mum threw the door open before I had a chance to knock.

“Eric, I wasn’t expecting you. You should have called.” It might have been me she was talking to, but her gaze was fixed firmly on Mason, who having paid the taxi driver, was following me up the path. “I was just on my way out to meet some of the WI ladies for lunch.”

“Lunch?” I looked at her sceptically. “At this time?”

“Yes, well…it’s a late lunch.” Her eyes still hadn’t left Mason, and I saw her frown slightly, as she tried to work out where she might know him from.

“Mum, this is…”

“Mason White,” Mason said, stepping around me and startling my mother by embracing her warmly. “Now I see where Eric gets his good looks. You are one seriously hot mama.”

“Oh, goodness!” Was that a blush I saw? I’d never known Mum blush over anything, certainly not over a man. As far as I knew, she didn’t even like men much, and that included me. She had put up with me, though, being her son and all, but this coy, giggling girl was a side of her I had never seen before. She laid a hand on Mason’s arm. “Well, I was very young when I had him, you know,” she confided in a bizarre, girlish voice. “But, excuse me for asking – who are you, exactly?”

“I’m your son-in-law.” Mason grinned. “At least, I will be once I persuade your gorgeous son to marry me.”

“You’re getting married?” Mum’s eyebrows shot Heavenward, as she stared at me in shock. “To a man?”

“No, Mum, we’re not…” I gave Mason an exasperated look, which only seemed to further his amusement. “Look, its early days. I don’t know where this is heading yet.”

Well, apart from it heading to the other side of the Atlantic, of course. I was still building up to telling her that little detail. Now, I just had to trust Mason not to blurt it out on the doorstep before I had the chance to lead her into it gently. The way he was behaving, I wouldn’t put it past him.

“But, what about that other boy you were seeing? Rupert, wasn’t it?” Mum asked. Her hand was still on Mason’s arm, and she could barely take her eyes off of him. The few occasions she had met Rufus, I had never once seen her come into physical contact with him.

“Rufus,” Mason said firmly, although his broad smile never wavered. “His name’s Rufus.”

If I hadn’t already been falling in love with him, I would have done so at that moment. It might seem strange to some, but it truly warmed my heart, the way Mason was so respectful when it came to Rufus.

“Yes, of course.” Mum looked up at Mason and I could swear she batted her eyelashes at him. “How silly of me to forget.”

“Mum,” I said lightly, deciding the time had come to put a stop to the budding romance between my mother and my boyfriend. “Maybe we should go inside. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Don’t worry,” Mason said, laying one arm around my mother’s shoulders and guiding her into the house. “He’s not pregnant. Although…” He tipped his head to one side, as though he was seriously considering it. “You have to admit, we’d make beautiful babies.”

I closed the door behind us, chuckling at my mother’s horrified – and slightly confused – expression and Mason’s never-ending stream of chatter. Within minutes, he had her eating from the palm of his hand, and I thought she would probably give Mason anything he asked for. The clothes off her back, a blank cheque, deeds to the house, me. All Mason had to do was keep smiling the way he was.

Luckily for Mum, he didn’t want her clothes, money, or home. He just wanted her blessing to take her son to live a few thousand miles away. That, and tea and biscuits, served on the finest china; a family heirloom that had been passed down for generations, and only made an appearance on the most special of occasions. Mason, it appeared, could charm the birds from the trees. It made me wonder how he’d ever had trouble finding someone to be with.

It was nice, those few short hours we spent with my mother. We talked, we laughed, and we were closer than we had been in years. Mum told Mason stories about my childhood, which had him in stitches. Eventually, we told her who Mason was, and that we leaving for America to go on tour with his band. Mum cried, much to my surprise, because it was not as though we saw each other regularly anyway. But she hugged us both, and gave us her blessing, before cheering up somewhat when Mason offered to fly her out for a visit.

Later, Mason had a limousine come and collect us, which definitely caused a stir among the neighbours in Mum’s quiet, little street, and we headed straight for the airport. I leaned into Mason’s side, happier than I ever thought I could be. He wrapped one arm around me, and kissed the top of my head affectionately.

“Thank you,” I said.

“What for?”

“I don’t know. Being you. Being amazing.”

Mason laughed. “What can I say? It comes naturally.”

I sat up, turning to face him. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

Mason smiled, but he wasn’t mocking me. I saw nothing but love in his dark eyes. I suppose he was used to hopping on a plane and taking off to another country at the drop of a hat, but he didn’t seem to think any less of me for my naiveté.

“Yeah, we are,” he said, threading his fingers through mine. “We’re doing it together. I… I never had that before. Someone to share it with.” He pulled me in close and kissed my lips softly. “I love you, Eric.”

“I love you too,” I answered, and I meant it.

We settled back against the seat, arms wrapped each other, tired, content, and ready to face whatever our future together would bring.