Page 20 of The Life Experiment

His father was calling to him from another room, but all Angus could focus on was the exchange on the screen before him.

I’ve had dinner and can confirm – fish and chips in the north is superior to fish and chips in the south x

By superior, do you mean greasier? x

The grease is what makes them taste so good, Angus, don’t you know anything?! x

I did not know that. Clearly my palate isn’t as sophisticated as yours… x

I’m glad you can admit it. Don’t worry, I’ll educate you x

I look forward to your tuition, Cannon. How about when you’re back from Hull, we meet for dinner and begin my education?

It would be great to see you again x

When he sent that message to Layla, Angus felt brave. Alcohol always had that effect on him and he had consumed a bottle of wine over dinner with his father. Plus, while his mother was away in the Cotswolds, Angus was free to be unfiltered.

But rereading his text as he sobered up on his parents’ sofa, Angus couldn’t believe he’d ever thought that asking Layla out via text was a good idea. The wording was juvenile, the tone blasé, and he couldn’t help worrying he looked cowardly by not asking to her face.

Angus’s concern didn’t appear to be unfounded. As soon as the message was delivered, the playful conversation Layla and Angus had enjoyed all day ended. Two hours later, Angus was still waiting for a response. Cursing himself, he reread the messages for clues about where he went wrong.

Were his jokes about the north of England offensive?

Was dinner too formal? Too casual? Too boring?

Was Layla unnerved by him reminding her that they had only actually met once?

Tipping his head back, Angus let out a pained groan.

‘Someone’s in a terrible mood,’ Peter said, stepping into the living room. No longer dressed in a sharp suit, his monogrammed robe and pyjamas made him look older, less powerful. The fact that he was clearly tipsy only made it worse.

Angus never knew how to read this version of his father. In some ways, Peter felt more approachable without his formal armour. In others, it was like interacting with someone who wasn’t his father at all.

‘I’m just tired. A little frustrated too,’ Angus admitted.

‘About what?’ Peter asked, heading to the drinks cabinet. There, he poured two whiskies before joining his son on the sofa. ‘I take it from your silence that this is a romantic frustration?’

‘I guess so,’ Angus replied, accepting the glass of amber liquid.

‘Well, well, well,’ Peter said, unable to hide his smile. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in one of those. You’ve always seemed capable on that front. With the short-term kind of love, at least. So, who is she? She must be special to have you in such a tangle.’

‘Her name is Layla.’

A wave of vulnerability swept over Angus.

Up until now, Layla almost felt like a figment of his imagination.

The fact that they’d only met in person once added to the sense of intrigue.

What they shared was too incredible to spoil with reality.

When he talked to her, Angus wasn’t Angus Fairview-Whitley, but the person he wanted to be.

Maybe it was because Angus had tweaked details about himself here and there.

Nothing big, but big enough. Angus had said he lived in London but hadn’t gone so far as to say that he lived in a multi-million-pound penthouse.

Angus had said he liked to travel, but he hadn’t quite admitted to having unlimited funds to do so.

The core of what you’ve said is the truth , his brain pointed out. It was the only way Angus could calm his nerves.

Things with Layla were so magical, he didn’t want reality to taint them with his failures. He didn’t want to admit to bad investments and the ever-present ache of loneliness. Their relationship was a fantasy land Angus could escape to, fuelled by instant attraction and a good phone network.

But now that Angus had told Peter about Layla, his two worlds were colliding.

‘And what does Layla do?’ Peter asked, after taking a long gulp of his drink.

‘She’s a lawyer.’

The answer earned an impressed nod from Peter. ‘Smart, then.’

‘Very. Too smart for me,’ Angus joked, but he wondered if it could be called a joke if it was the truth.

‘Don’t put yourself down, son. You have more to offer than you think. You’ve just got to find the thing that makes you tick.’

‘Any idea what that might be?’ Angus asked, grimacing into his glass.

‘That’s for you to figure out. Besides, I’m not someone you should take advice from, especially on the dating front. I wouldn’t exactly call myself husband of the year.’ With those words, Peter closed his eyes.

Angus frowned, studying his father. ‘Are you okay?’

Opening one eye, Peter settled his gaze on his son. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

Peter’s tone was sharper than Angus expected, cutting him down to size. ‘You don’t talk about your marriage usually, that’s all,’ he mumbled while staring into his drink.

‘Yes, well, there’s a lot we don’t speak about in this house,’ Peter said, draining his glass.

Angus’s frown deepened, but he didn’t have time to ask his father what he meant. Peter leaned forward to set his glass down on the coffee table, but missed his target. The glass fell to the floor, splashing whisky onto Gilly’s prized cream rug.

‘Uh-oh,’ Peter sang, his voice wobbly and strange.

There was something about seeing his father so out of sorts that unsettled Angus. He had only seen Peter this way once before, and that was after Hugo’s death.

‘Maybe you should go to bed,’ Angus suggested.

‘Maybe I should.’ Peter paused for a moment before standing. His body swayed slightly, then he flashed Angus a sad smile. ‘Is Layla someone special?’ he asked.

Though he was taken aback by the question, Angus nodded. ‘She is.’

‘In that case – hold onto her tight and never let her forget how much she means to you. Ever.’

With those parting words, Peter began to walk away in small, unsteady steps. Angus watched him go, too surprised to speak.

‘Goodnight, Angus,’ Peter called over his shoulder.

Before Peter reached the living room door, Angus called out to him.

Stopping, Peter turned around. ‘Yes, son?’

‘Do me a favour and don’t tell Mother about Layla, will you? I don’t think she’d understand.’

Sadness covered Peter’s face. ‘I won’t say a word, but you should think twice about that. Your mother is a better person than you give her credit for.’

Silenced, Angus watched his father amble away, a strange sense of guilt overcoming him. He didn’t like the way it sat on his chest. Reaching for his phone to distract himself, Angus’s eyes widened when he saw that Layla had replied.

Angus, I would love to go to dinner with you, but I need to be honest – it would be a ‘friends’ thing. There’s a lot going on in my life right now. I don’t have the capacity for anything more.

I love talking to you and don’t want to stop, but I also don’t know if you are hoping for more…

All I can offer at this time is to be friends. If that works for you, then YES to dinner. If not, I understand x

It took Angus three reads of the message to fully digest what it said.

It took five seconds for him to find air after that.

The pain that hummed through Angus felt like it was alive, tearing chunks from him with its sharp, pointed teeth.

But there was something accompanying the pain that Angus didn’t expect – understanding.

The day he met Layla, it was clear she was going through something. In all their interactions since, Angus had felt the undertones of sadness. Just two days ago, Layla described her day as ‘heavy’. Angus wanted nothing more than to lighten that load, but Layla was guarded about the cause.

Angus knew that Layla didn’t need any added pressure. She needed a friend. And, if that was the only way he could be in her life, then Angus would be the greatest friend Layla ever had.

Besides, she said ‘at this time’ , his brain pointed out. That doesn’t mean never.

A small smile lifted his mouth. Angus could wait. He had all the time in the world. Almost another sixty years, in fact. If that was how long it took Layla to deal with whatever she was going through, he would wait. Then maybe, if he was lucky, some of those years could be spent with her.

I understand, say no more. When you’re back in London, we’ll make plans x

As a yawn escaped Angus, he dropped his phone on the sofa. It was time for bed.

Dragging his lethargic body out of the living room, Angus began the ascent to his childhood bedroom where Ms Tillman had laid fresh bedding for his arrival. His shoulders relaxed as his mind wandered to thoughts of the bed that awaited him, and the dreams that would accompany it.