Elsingham's Son

A Family Drama in Sixteen Scenes

by Airn Hethaway

email: s_psoli@yahoo.co.uk

Scene VII

Lunch was a dismal affair. Gerda, looked down the long table to where Claude sat, morosely, drinking rather more than he ate. To her right sat Paul, fastidiously picking at his terrine, now and again looking anxiously over the rims of his glasses at Poppy, seated next to him. Poppy’s latest fad was vegetarianism, although she was fast getting bored with that. At that moment she was longing for a juicy, bloody steak and was toying with her tofu. She felt Claud’s lecherous glare as he noisily slurped his claret. Prince’s place, opposite, on Gerda’s left, was empty.

     “Paul tells us you and Hamlyn have had words,” said Gerda, breaking the stifling silence round the table. Paul fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, looking harrassed both at Poppy and Gerda. Poppy gave her father a sharp look, then turned to Gerda, with a bored look on her face.

     “What a quaint expression, Gerda! Had words! Awfully dated! Yes, Hamlyn and I did have words as a matter of fact, Gerda. We discussed the possibilities of my making a career change, even taking up religion.” The heavy irony was not lost on her father, but Gerda just looked confused.

     “I’m sorry, Poppy dear, I don’t understa…”

     “Never mind Gerda, dear,” interrupted the younger woman, brusquely, rudely brushing Gerda aside. “Suffice it to say there won’t be wedding-bells,” she went on, finally pushing her plate of food from her and standing up.

     “Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” began Gerda, but again she was unable to finish.

     “It really doesn’t bother me one way or the other,” Poppy replied with an air of disdain, “I wasn’t too keen on the idea. Anyway, I don’t think Prince is the marrying type.”

     This last was said out of pure spite, but Poppy was unconcerned. Why shouldn’t she spread a little gossip about? Even though the statement was quite unfounded, she didn’t give two fucks. It was one way of getting back at him.

     “I’m off to meet Rosemary in town,” she announced and elegantly left the dining room. Gerda looked at Paul, mouth open.

     “What was that all about, Paul? Was she implying that Hamlyn, my son is…?”
     It was Claude who now interrupted Gerda. “Come now, Gerda! It’s not such a big deal these days, now is it?” What he didn’t say was Of course, it could mean the line ends with him. He went on, aloud: “It isn’t so important in this day and age, now is it?”

     Claude had a very good reason for not refuting Poppy’s insinuations. He realised, that if Hamlyn was gay, then he wouldn’t produce offspring, which meant that the house, lands and the business would go to him, if something unexpected happened to young Hamlyn, that is. He himself suspected that Hamlyn, if not completely gay, was at least bi. The young man did spend a lot of time with Horatio, whom he knew for certain was gay. In fact, unknown by Horatio, Claude and he had mutual ‘friends’ – certain rentboys in town who passed on gossip to Claude. In fact, Claude himself wouldn’t have objected to a bit of rough with Horatio; perhaps one day he might. Beneath the table, he massaged his cock, thinking about the handsome black-haired boy, whom, rumour had it, was prodigously well-hung.

     Gerda looked upset. “I’m sure he would have told me, if he was worried about something,” she said, almost pouting.

     Worried about something! Typical of the woman! Claude sneered into his glass as he continued to massage his hardening cock through the fabric of his trousers. What age did these people live in, for Christ’s sake!

     Paul looked acutely uncomfortable in his straight-backed chair; certain topics were simply not for public discussion. Where was good old-fashioned discretion?

     It was at this point that Hamlyn came into the dining room.

     All eyes went immediately to the blond young man about whom they had just been been talking.

     Claude broke the thick silence. “Oh, so you’ve deigned to join our family, have we? We were beginning to worry about you, Hamlyn. Thought something nasty might have happened.” He could not disguise the falseness in his words. Hamlyn appeared to ignore him, but gritted his teeth and with clenched fists, said nothing. He absent-mindedly kissed his mother on the cheek before taking his place. One of the waitresses came forward with a plate of food, but he waved her away. He filled his glass and after a long draught, spoke.

     “Mother, Poppy and I won’t be getting married, after all.” He glanced over at Paul. “Irreconcilable differences.”

     The other three glanced at each other, as if what Hamlyn had said confirmed their suspicions.

     Gerda looked almost on the verge of tears.

     “Oh, Prince, darling! What happened? I’m sure it’s just a silly lover’s tiff! You’ll both make it up in no time. You’ve known each other for absolute years, darling. Years!”

     “No, Mother, I don’t think this will be patched up this time,” replied her son. “It’s over. Anyway. It was all of you who expected a wedding. You forgot to ask either Poppy or me what we felt about it all. I can tell you, neither of us was crazy about the idea. It was all a wild idea in your heads. ‘Childhood sweethearts’ and all that crap. Well, neither Poppy nor I have the slightest intention of making up and most certainly not to get married either, so you’ll all have to just stuff that in your respective pipes and smoke it.”

     A slow, sardonic clapping from Claude broke the shocked silence.

     “Good for you, Hamlyn, my boy. Show ‘em what your made of. There’s spunk in you, young man!” He emphasized the word spunk but it seemed to be lost on all those present except uncle and nephew.

     Hamlyn, despite his inner turmoil, gazed cooly at his uncle.

     “Oh yes, Claude,” he replied evenly, “I’m spunky  enough.”

     Claude, despite his anger, felt himself hardening. He wanted to fuck that insolent young puppy so hard he wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week…

     He changed the subject. “Hamlyn, your mother and I think you need to get away for a while. Have a change of scene. You’ve been through a lot and…”

     “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you Mother?” said the young man abruptly, turning to face her. “What with a death, a funeral and now an imminent engagement…it’s all a bit too much in so short a space of time, isn’t it Mother? Don’t you need a holiday? Shouldn’t you be going away somewhere?” He was shouting now and Gerda shrank from him beneath his onslaught. “Perhaps you need some time to … to forget!”

     “How dare you, you insolent whelp!” Claude rose from his chair.

     “You shut the fuck up, Claude! You slimy bastard! Worming your way in here. No wonder Dad thought you were worthless. You aren’t fit to lick his boots! And now you presume to come in here, take over… Mother, can’t you see what this guy is? Can’t you understand he just wants the business?” He rounded back on Claude, “You couldn’t even run a fucking raffle! You’re a pathetic, alcoholic, perverted creep! Everything you touch turns to ashes! Dad knew that. Dad saw what a fucking liability you are, Claude!  Mother! How can you be so fucking blind?”

     Claude came round the table surprisingly quickly, lunging at Hamlyn, who, taken by surprise, was pushed to the ground. Claude felt like kicking the young man to death and would have done so only just holding himself back, remembering that he and Hamlyn weren’t alone. Instead, he took a step back and looked with contempt at the prone figure. He’d find another opportunity to teach the young cunt a lesson!

     “How dare you, Hamlyn! But then, it’s all one can expect, considering with whom you choose to be friends. Let me tell you something, Hamlyn. This isn’t a suggestion, this is an order: get away from here. Take time out. Leave this house. Consider your options, young man. Now bugger off!”

     Hamlyn slowly rose but before he could do anything or speak, Gerda spoke next: “Claude is right, Hamlyn. What you said was totally out of line and uncalled for. You need to go away and reflect on what you said and when you come back, I expect you to give Claude a full, unreserved apology. Now go!”

     Hamlyn was speechless. He held his mother’s gaze for a few moments before sadly shaking his head in disbelief and leaving the room.

     “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” muttered Paul, not knowing where to look and wishing he was somewhere quite else.