Page 8 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

“What do you want?” I ask as I pick up a clementine and start peeling it.

“I don’t know. I feel like my brain is incapable of making any decisions until I’ve had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep followed by a lazy day of wandering around the flat in my pyjamas.”

“Do you still want to go and see your dad tomorrow?” I ask. “Or, if you’re still tired, we could go on Boxing Day?”

“No.” He shakes his head, frowning as he sips his tea. “I’d rather see Dad tomorrow. I know he doesn’t really understand it’s Christmas, but…”

“It’s okay, I get it,” I reply. “We can go tomorrow.”

“Pizza.” Tris flips through the app. “KFC?” He glances at the stuffed turkey. “Maybe not.”

“Indian?” I offer.

“I don’t think I can handle a curry right now. I’ll be up all night with heartburn.”

“How about this?” I pluck the phone from his hand. “You go take a shower and get into your comfiest pjs. I’ll order a McDonald’s in honour of last year’s Christmas dinner fiasco and we can watch a Christmas movie while we break open the Quality Street and pick out all the good chocolates.”

Tris looks up at me. “Sounds perfect.”

Just then Jacob Marley sashays into the kitchen imperiously. Wiggling his chunky body, he jumps up and scrambles onto Tris’ lap. He rubs his head against Tristan’s chest, purring as Tris strokes his head. The little demon gives a loud meow and then makes a dive for the turkey, knocking Tris’ hand and making him spill his tea in his lap. Tris grabs Jacob Marley and manages to catch him before he can sink his teeth and claws into Bernard.

“And there I was thinking you missed me because I’ve been working so much.” He sighs, then stands up, sets his half-empty cup of tea on the table, and tucks the cat under his arm.

I watch as Tris unceremoniously expels the cat from the kitchen and shuts the door in his face, much to Jacob Marley’s displeasure based on the indignant yowls coming from the other side that are accompanied by a clawing sound against the wood.

“There goes the damage deposit,” Tris groans.

I chuckle and Tris’ eyes narrow as he watches me take the peeled clementine and shove the whole thing inside the stuffing packed into the turkey’s body cavity.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” I look down at the turkey and realise he’s referring to the fruit. “Oh,” I reply. “It’s…” My heart gives a sad little clutch. “My mum used to do this with the turkey every year. I thought… I don’t know, I thought I’d…”

He watches me silently as I trail off. He wraps his arms around me from the side as I stand facing the table and resting his chin against my arm, he looks up at me.

“You can talk to me about your parents, you know,” he says softly. “I know it’s painful for you, how it was with them in the end, but I bet there are loads of good memories mixed in there somewhere.”

“It’s hard to find the words sometimes,” I mutter. “There were good times, lots of them. I suppose, after everything that happened, I just forgot that for a while. But now, remembering them just makes me sad.”

“I know.” He rubs my back. “It’s okay to feel sad, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. I think the trick is to not shut out the feelings but work your way through them.”

“I just…” I let out a long, disappointed sigh. “I haven’t spoken to them in nearly two years, and none of them have bothered to even try and get in contact. It’s like I don’t matter to them anymore, like I ceased to exist the moment I walked out that door for the last time.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Tris shrugs. “I don’t know your family so I couldn’t say for certain. Maybe they’re arseholes, maybe they’ll never get past you being gay or wanting a different life to all of them, or maybe they miss you and just don’t know how to reach out.”

“I know I should probably try again. After I left, I didn’t contact them either.” I shake my head. “The things that were said.” I swallow tightly, feeling the hard ball of pain burning in the back of my throat. “It still hurts. I always knew my dad wouldn’t take it well, that there was a chance he’d never accept me for it. But I never thought my mum would…”

“Take his side?” Tris offers.

I shake my head. “Not stand up for me. But it wasn’t just her. Not one single person in that room stood up for me.”

My stomach sinks when I recall the way my brothers looked at me, not saying a word. Granted, my youngest sister hadn’t been there, but my older sister hadn’t been able to mask her feelings and let’s just say, they weren’t positive.

“Still.” I shake my head and brush off the painful memories. “It’s over and done with. What’s done can’t be undone. I can’t force them to accept me.”

“You know, it’s okay to admit you miss them,” Tris says. “Even after what happened.”

I stare at him silently.