Page 57 of The Best of Times

Alexander didn’t appear as if he would be placated that easily. He stood there with his arms folded and an expectant expression on his face.

“Fine,” Aron said. He didn’t have time to spar with Alexander. “Paul will be arriving in twenty minutes in the same clothes too.”

“I knew it,” Alexander said. “You dirty dogs.”

“Oh shut up,” Aron replied, allowing a wry smile to cross his lips.

Alexander grinned “And does this mean you’re on again?”

The question he would like an answer to. Not just from Paul but from himself. Aron had suppressed a whole world of confusion which would have to be taken out and examined thoroughly later on.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “It means we spent the night together. We haven’t had a chance to define it. I’ve got to go. Granny has an emergency. The bloody registry office has flooded.”

Alexander stood back. “Shit. You do know it’s the day before Christmas Eve?”

“No way,” Aron replied. “That hadn’t occurred to any of us. Thanks for reminding me.”

He received a playful slap on the arm from Alexander.

“Be careful, Wimpole. We can hang around until your returning lover shows up, you know? Maybe have a word with him about his intentions.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“He won’t,” Zac said. “Because he’s treating me to a hangover breakfast at The Bluebird Café. Aren’t you, Alexander?”

Alexander took Zac’s hand. “Fine. Seriously though, if there’s anything we can do for Mrs W and the Prof, give us a shout.”

“Thanks. Now shoo.”

Aron dashed off towards Granny’s house. He trusted Alexander not to open his mouth intentionally. The problem was, he rarely had control over it and would blurt out all sorts of confidential data. No, they were on borrowed time now.

He couldn’t worry about that now. There was a crisis to grapple with.

“Granny. It’s me,” he shouted after he left himself in. “Where are you?”

He heard a flurry of activity from the kitchen and to Aron’s astonishment, the Professor appeared in the doorwaywearing the forest green velvet Guccirobe Aron had sent his grandmother for her last birthday.

Unfortunately, the Professor was almost a foot taller than Granny so it exposed far more leg than Aron knew what to do with at that time in the morning. He hoped to God that’s all there was on display. He refused to look any closer.

“Ah,” the Professor said. He appeared rooted to the spot. “You’re home earlier than expected.”

“Evidently. Where is she?”

Aron kept the eye to eye going. Every fibre in his being told him to drop his gaze. He resisted valiantly.

“In the kitchen. I’ll…well, I’ll go and get dressed.”

Don’t look down.

“Yes, I should,” Aron stammered.

With remarkable speed, the Professor sped past him and up the stairs. Unfortunately, the motion lifted the robe and Aron was treated to a flash of the Prof’s buttock.

He flinched and staggered against the doorframe.

My fucking eyes.

This morning was proving to be one of the weirdest of Aron’s life and that was saying something.