Chapter Twenty-Seven
Freddie
The door closed on Taine. Freddie stared at it for a while. He brought his fist up to pound on it in annoyance.
“Freddie, caru?” His tad rushed over to drag him away from the front door before he injured himself. “Why don’t we sit and have a nice little chat, hmm? Your dad can make tea.”
“Sod your tea.”
“Watch your language.” His dad poked his head out of the kitchen to admonish him. “We’ll talk like civilised individuals.”
“Oh? Like you were civilised to Taine? You called him a paedophile.” Freddie covered his face with his hands. “Oh God. I can’t believe you said that to him. What’s he going to think? What if he doesn’t want to see me again?”
“Good.”
Freddie shoved his tad away from him to move towards the kitchen. He’d never been so angry with either of his parents—ever. “No, not good. I like him. Do you hear me? I actually like him. What have you done? You’ve gone and called him a child molester. I’m not a child or even a teenager. I’m twenty-six years old. When are you going to treat me like an adult? I had to move into a completely different city just to have some sort of life. And you… you come here and you ruin it. Why would you do that?”
“Let’s all calm down and talk this through.” His tad held a hand out towards him and one towards his dad, ever the calm negotiator of peace.
“No, I think—” Freddie cut himself off. He steeled his nerves for what needed to be said. “I think you should both go home to the farm.”
“Freddie?”
“Just go, please?” He didn’t want to ruin his relationship with his fathers, but what had been said to Taine was almost unforgivable. “You called an honourable, kind, good man something truly disgusting. I can’t deal with you both right now, not without saying something I’ll regret.”
Sitting on his couch with his head bowed, Freddie refused to look at his fathers. They left after several failed attempts to get him to speak. Both men stooped to kiss the top of his head on the way out.
Taine’s never going to want to see me again.
Why would he?
The bitter thoughts filled Freddie’s mind. He stamped down the guilt at kicking his dads out, unable to shake the feeling that they’d cost him something—someone—who might have become important in his life.
By the time the sun came up and his alarm in the bedroom went off, Freddie hadn’t moved an inch. He also hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep. Work would be awful, but dealing with ill patients might put his life in perspective.
Always does.
Three cups of the strongest coffee at the hospital hadn’t improved his mood. Neither did the text from his auntie suggesting he forgive his fathers for being “daft morons.” Given what the loud silence from Taine might mean, mercy wasn’t high on his list of things to do for the day.
“All right, I can’t take it. You went on holiday. You should’ve come back relaxed. Instead, you’re moping around my ward.” Genevieve dropped into the chair across from him in his small office. “What went wrong?”
“My dads showed up last night.” Freddie sipped mournfully at his coffee. “Taine and I were sharing a trifle in the kitchen—in our pants.”
“They didn’t.” Gen sounded as horrified as he felt. “You weren’t.”
“They did. We were,” he groaned succinctly.
It started with a muffled snort. Freddie glared at the normally composed doctor across from him. She choked on a giggle before bursting into laughter.
“Oh God, oh God.” Gen tried to calm herself down without success.
“It’s not funny.” Freddie tried to maintain a stern scowl, but his lips quivered without his permission. He coughed and giggled at the same time. “Oh, Gen, you should’ve seen their faces when they saw Taine in his boxers, calmly eating custard. It’s worse than the time they walked in on me wanking in my room.”
Their eyes met. Silence. Both doctor and nurse ended up sliding out of their chairs to the floor, laughing until their lungs begged for air. He finally forced himself to keep his gaze away from her to regain control.
They needed another five minutes to be able to drag themselves up to their seats. Freddie tossed her one of the spare handkerchiefs in his desk drawer. He always kept them for clients.
“And Taine? How’s he feel about all of this?” Gen asked the question he’d been avoiding. “Freddie?”
“No idea.” He shrugged. “I haven’t heard a peep out of him since last night.”
“Call him.” She nudged the desk phone with her ever-present cup of tea. “What? Why not? You can’t be blamed for your dads being dads.”
“Overprotective prats is what they are. And how could he not blame me?” Freddie scrubbed his fingers across his face. “They made a brilliant night beyond awkward. How do I apologise for it? I don’t even know where to start.”
“You have nothing to apologise for—if he can’t see that, then he’s not worth it.” Gen shifted forward in her seat, resting both elbows on the edge of the desk. “What are you worried about?”
Freddie dropped his hands away when she pulled at them. “He voiced concerns about being older than me. I never cared about the age difference, but how could this not affect him? The way my dads reacted will only feed into his own doubt. We’ve only just started to date—emotions aren’t involved yet. Maybe he’ll think a clean break is best?”
It sounded weak even to his own ears.
Gen smiled sadly at him. “Too early for emotions to be involved?”
“Of course,” Freddie snapped defensively. He crossed his arms over his chest only to drop them when he realised how his body language proved her right. “Coc y gath.”
The day passed relatively quietly. Freddie didn’t have any house visits to make this week. All of his work focused on organising schedules out through November and December; the end of the year tended to speed up and slow down almost in equal measures.
Several of the doctors stopped in to see him on their way out. Freddie had no desire to return home. His bed still smelled of Taine, who hadn’t called—or answered his text.
“Freddie?”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head on the files spread in front of him on his desk. “Yes, Auntie Anna? You’re a long way from home.”
“I’m an hour from home. It’s hardly the arctic circle.” She waltzed into his office with her bright plum coat and a paper bag in her hand. “Up you get. I’ve exactly what you need.”
“The dads’ heads on a platter?”
“Maybe next year, love.” Auntie Anna had always taken his side—almost always. She had a slightly clearer head than her brother and brother-in-law tended to have when it came to their beloved only child. “Now, what’s this I hear about you being corrupted by an old man?”
“He’s in his forties—not a hundred and forty.” Freddie peeked into the bag to find she’d brought him several slices of her famous bara brith. He immediately grasped a slice to begin eating it; lunch had been ages ago. “I shouted at them.”
“So I heard.”
“Actually. Shouted.” He couldn’t quite believe he’d done it. “Should I feel guilty?”
“No, but I imagine you do anyway, which is why I came to visit.” She pulled a thermos out of her large purse and set it on the desk. “Some of my spiced tea to cheer you up. We’ll have tea and cake while you tell me all about your new man, who is apparently very fit.”
“He is.” Freddie couldn’t help the slight dreaminess in his voice. His mind had immediately jumped back to when he’d seen Taine completely naked for the first time. “Incredibly fit.”
“Eat up, and we’ll figure out how to sort your dense dads out.”
They didn’t sort anything out. Freddie enjoyed six slices of bara brith and half the thermos of tea. His mood did improve, so the visit hadn’t been a wasted one for his aunt.
With a promise to wring her brother’s neck, his aunt had swanned off home. Freddie stayed in his office for another hour. His flat had zero attraction for him at the moment.
Go home. Nothing’s going to get better by moping at the hospital.