"You're crazy." Grace shakes her head and lowers her latte slowly into its saucer. "Do you have any idea how many things could go wrong-"
"I know, but it's not like I have much choice! Dad isn't going to let this drop and if I don't turn up with someone to be Harry's dad tonight then he's going to start getting suspicious."
"Liam though?" She sighs. "I don't know about this, Hendrix. He's not great with other people, he might be able to lie but he's not so hot at reading people. You know all this, all of the guys are the same..."
"I don't have much choice." I mutter again, thinking nervously ahead to tonight. "I just can't believe that I'm taking Mr Grey to dinner pretending to be Harry's dad-"
"Oh, he's nothing like Christian Grey really." Grace laughs and waves her hand dismissively. "Well, he hasn't got the tragic background for one thing and I kinda think that's a main part of Grey being who he is, isn't it?"
"I don't know, I've never read it."
"You've never read fifty shades?!?" Grace practically shrieks. "Damn girl, you're missing out! Don't let Harry read them though, the poor boy sounds terrified at the idea of sex without delving into that." She laughs and I can't help but shake my head at the idea of poor, innocent Harry reading the 50 shades books.
"So Liam isn't like Grey?"
"No. Well, sorta." She shrugs. "He's quite dominant and charming and all that stuff you're probably thinking of, but he's different to how I thought he was going to be. Dr Henderson warned me that the embryos had their own personality. I thought I was going to get a carbon copy of Grey, but I didn't. Liam might be dominant in bed and with other things... But he's also nothing like what I thought he would be. He's super romantic, he always wakes before me and leaves me a little handwritten poem on my pillow every morning, and he likes to have my bath and meal ready for when I get home from work. He talks to me about his emotions and wants to hear about mine.... But I guess my perfect partner would be Christian Grey in the bedroom, Ryan Gosling though the day." She cackles. "And the Dream Factory gives you exactly what you want I guess. I've never been so happy or felt so well matched to anyone as Liam."
I nod, toying with the spoon by the side of my cup.
"But I suppose all this isn't helping you." She sighs. "Liam is willing to come tonight but I can't guarantee that he's going to behave in the way you want him too."
"It's just a good job he looks old enough."
"Ah, well. I like an older man. Im 31 myself and I didn't want a toyboy-"
"You don't look 31!" I say in surprise. I genuinely assumed she was closer in age to me. She grins and takes another long sip at her coffee.
"That's why I went in for the Dream Factory. I figured that I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain, I've spent years dating losers. The only thing I demanded was that he looked older than me, I don't know how they aged him but they did..." She smiles. "Anyway, tonight then. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this? It's not a great idea..."
"I don't have much choice." I say gloomily.
***
"Just remember to call Liam 'Dad'."
Harry nods and begins to mutter 'Dad' repeatedly under his breath. I notice Liam roll his eyes slightly. The rain is hammering down so hard that our taxi is barely crawling through the streets.
"And Liam?" I try to sound polite but when his impatient gaze flicks to me I feel myself blush slightly. "Just, like, remember Harry is your son. And that you like me a lot, as his housemate only."
He nods sharply and turns back to watching the rain run in small rivers down the glass. Harry looks incredibly nervous but it's not a patch on what I feel.
In fact, even as my Dad takes our wet coats (looking stunned that I've actually turned up with Harry's 'father') even as my Mum pours us all a brandy each to warm us up; Harry doesn't stop giving off the impression of a child caught stealing sweets.
He's so nervous it's making me jumpy but Liam ignores us and immediately begins to charm my parents. In fact, he's so good that when he compliments Mum on the firm bottom on her cheese soufflé with a slow wink at her, my Dad actually laughs and slaps him on the back like and old pal.
It's going far better than I had hoped. Liam has risen to the occasion perfectly and I just wish we could leave it all to him. He's spent ages talking to my Dad about his imaginary work as a lecturer. I told him to say he taught English literature as I know my parents wouldn't have much to comment on that. I know it's going well because Dad has just cracked open one of his vintage bottles of red wine to accompany the beef main course.
Of course, Harry can't be spared forever. He's barely said more than a quiet 'thank you' so far and as the talk begins to turn to him I grab his hand under the table and give it a gentle squeeze. I can't imagine how intimidating it must be to know that you have to blurt the truth to any question that you might be asked.
"So," Dad turns his flushed, grinning face to Harry, "what are you studying then, Harry?"
"H-H- Harry Potter." He stammers, with a deal of effort.
He glances at me, obviously proud that he's managed to use the 'truth bending' tactics we've been using. He doesn't notice my parents frowning at him.
"My son is writing a paper on Harry Potter and its historical parallels." Liam says smoothly, pouring wine into Dad's glass, not even pausing between Harry's answer and his own. "He's found some fascinating parallels between Voldemort and Henry VIII. His resulting paper is widely anticipated in university circles."
"Oh really?" Mum sips at her wine. "I like Harry Potter. I love that fella who plays the vain teacher. Who was it? Kiefer Sutherland?"
"Kenneth Branagh played Professor Lockhart, Mum."
"No, I'm sure it was Kiefer Sutherland."
I groan to myself as I argue with Mum. Harry's hand is still tightly clutched in mine under the table. Dad keeps trying to ask Harry questions but Liam smoothly diverts them all.
The only other awkward moment comes when Mum directly asks Harry if he enjoyed his food and he says no, but I think that Liam managed to turn it into a joke. I think.
The laughing mask slips immediately off Liam the second we climb into the taxi and he doesn't seem interested in talking to is at all. He doesn't speak until he's dropped off at his own house and he's so different from the man who has spent several hours saving our arse that I can't think what to say.
It's a bit anti-climatic. I genuinely expected everything to crumble around me tonight. I've wasted so much energy worrying and yet my parents don't suspect anything.
So long as no more bills come in from the Dream Factory, this might just be ok.
I'm on a high as the taxi pulls slowly into our street. I'm so relieved that I even encourage Harry's well-worn conversation about the university ball. I even find myself agreeing to shopping with him tomorrow, god knows I need to replace that awful dress Jenna persuaded him to buy me.
Once we're inside, striping off our coats and tripping over Dave, Harry offers to make us a hot chocolate each. It's then that I notice the answer phone flashing.
Hey, Hendrix. It's Charlie. He sounds utterly fed up and I turn up the volume so that I can hear his unusually quiet voice. I tried to call your mobile. I just wanted to let you know that I've completed my half of the essay, didn't want you to think that you have to work double to cover for me. If you're free tomorrow maybe we could meet up for a few hours? I just wanted to spend some time with a mate. Don't worry if you can't, it's no biggie. Yeah. Well anyway... See you tomorrow maybe, if not, then Monday.
His dull, sad sounding voice fades off and the bleep of the machine cuts into the room.
Poor Charlie. I'll have to meet him tomorrow, he sounds so unlike his usual cheerful self. There's a movement in the corner and I look up to see Harry, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and eyes narrowed at the answering machine.
"We're going shopping tomorrow." He says with false brightness when he notices me looking at him.
"I should probably meet Charlie." I sigh. "He's going through a bad time."
"Ok. I'll come."
"I think I probably need to see him alone, Harry." I say gently.
"Why?"
"Because I need to talk to him. He's having a hard time."
"I'm having a hard time picking a suit but you don't see me expecting people to cancel their plans." He mutters petulantly.
"It's hardly the same thing."
"Doesn't he have other friends?" Harry pouts.
"Well, yeah-"
"Tell him to see them then."
"Harry, this getting ridiculous." I sigh.
"What is?" He bends to pick up the cat and to my annoyance, Dave, who won't even sit on my knee, allows himself to be held like a baby in Harry's arms.
"Harry, I didn't expect to be getting a possessive dude moving in with me when I signed up for this shit. You're acting like Juan."
"I am not!" Harry stares at me indignantly.
"Look, come sit down, we need to chat about this." I pat the cushion next to me, deciding that I need to deal with Harry's jealously and reassure him.
"No."
"What do you mean 'no'? Stop being silly."
"I bet you don't tell Charlie to stop being silly." He pouts.
"Mainly because he doesn't act like this all the time." I snap, my temper rising.
"Oh well... Apologies if the boy that you snogged and who still fancies you keeps popping up and you keep running off with him!"
"He doesn't fancy me!" I snap. "Apologies if I have a best friend, you know, one that I had before I even met you-"
"Apologies if I wasn't created exactly like your little friend Charlie-" Harry shouts suddenly, stamping his foot. To my further annoyance, Dave doesn't even flinch in his arms.
"Apologies if I just left you to be who you were, even though you're a massive pain in the arse!"
"Apologies if I'm not good enough just as I am! Maybe you should have changed me?!"
"Apologies if you're allowed trampy Jenna as a friend but I'm not allowed Charlie!" I shout, fuming now.
"Apologises if you're jealous of my friend!" Harry shouts triumphantly.
I stare at him, unable to believe he thinks that will win him the argument after the way he is with Charlie. "And she's not a tramp, she's lovely!"
"Lovely?" I'm furious now, after all the years Jenna has been a bitch to me, all the ways that she's insulted me, hearing Harry attack Charlie and defend her is too much. "She's a tramp and you're an idiot for being sucked in!"
"Hendrix! You.. You..." He glares at me. There's a long second where I can't tell he's trying to think of a terrible enough swear word to call me;
"YOU POO HEAD!!!"
*
The next morning Harry hasn't made me my usual cup of tea. Nor does he speak to me or acknowledge me at all, despite my attempts to be chatty with him.
It's not until I pull on my converse for my meet up with Charlie that I notice he's all dressed and ready to go out.
I'm about to ask where he's going but he strides past me and pulls open the door, revealing the extremely pretty, extremely smug face of Jenna Lingley.
***
Dedicated to the gorgeous @Hazzohoo94
Thanks so much for reading my stories. You're an absolute treasure.
Fireworks ahead 😁🙈