Wamphyri! Brian Lumley

‘Anyway,’ George’s irritation was showing now, ‘we weren’t talking about Helen but Yulian. Helen, I submit, is normal. Her cousin – or cousin once removed, or whatever-is not.’

‘Give me a for-instance,’ Anne argued. ‘An example. Not normal, you say. Well then, is he abnormal? Subnormal? Where’s his defect?’

‘Whenever Yulian crops up,’ Helen joined in from the back, ‘you two always end up arguing. Is he really worth it?’

‘Your mother’s a very loyal person,’ George told her over one shoulder. ‘Georgina is her cousin and Yulian is Georgina’s son. Which means they’re untouchable. Your mother won’t face simple facts, that’s all. She’s the same with all her friends: she won’t hear a word against them. Very laudable. But I call a spade a spade. I find – and have always found – Yulian a bit much. As I said before, weird.’

‘You mean,’ Helen pressed, ‘a bit nine-bob notish?’

‘Helen!’ her mother protested yet again.

‘I get that one from you!’ Helen stopped her dead in her tracks. ‘You always talk about gays as nine-bobbers.’

‘I never talk about . . . about homosexuals!’ Anne was furious. ‘And certainly not to you about them!’

‘I’ve heard Daddy – in conversation with you, about one or two of his man-friends – say that so-and-so is gay as a defrocked vicar,’ said Helen matter-of-factly. ‘And you’ve replied: “What, so-and-so, nine-bobbish? Really?”‘

Anne rounded on her and might well have lashed out physically if she could have reached her. Red-faced, she cried, ‘Then in future we’ll have to lock you in your bloody room before we dare have an adult conversation! You horrid girl!’

‘Perhaps you better had.’ Helen was equally quick to rise. ‘Before I also start to swear!’

‘All right, all right.r George quietened them. ‘Points taken all round. But we’re on holiday, remember? I mean, it’s probably my fault, but Yulian’s a sore point with me, that’s all. And I can’t even explain why. But he usually keeps out of the way most of the time we’re there, and I can’t help it but I hope it’s the same this time. For my peace of mind, anyway. He’s simply not my type of lad. As for him being how’s-your-father – ‘ (Helen some-how contrived not to snigger) ‘ – I can’t say. But he did get kicked out of that boarding school, and – ‘

‘He did not!’ Anne had to have her say. ‘Kicked out, indeed! He got his qualifications a year early, left a year before the rest. I mean to say, do qualifications – does being intelligent above the average – certify someone as a raving . . . homosexual? Heaven forbid! Clever Miss Know-it-all here has a couple of second class “A” levels, which apparently make her near-omniscient; in which case Yulian has to be close to godlike! George, what qualifications do you have?’

‘I fail to see what that has to do with it,’ he answered. ‘The way I hear it, more gays come out of the universities than ever came out of all the secondary moderns put together. And-‘

‘George?’

‘I was an apprentice,’ he sighed, ‘as you well know. Trade qualifications, I’ve got them all. And then I was a journeyman – an architect earning money for my boss, until I got into business for myself. And anyway – ‘

‘What academic qualifications?’ she was determined.

George drove the car, said nothing, wound down his window a little and breathed warm air. After a while: The same as you, darling.’

‘None whatsoever!’ Anne was triumphant. ‘Why, Yulian’s cleverer than all of us put together. On paper, anyway. I say give him time and he’ll show us all a thing or two. Oh, I admit he’s quiet, comes and goes like a ghost, seems less active and enthusiastic about life than a boy his age should be. But give him a break, for God’s sake! Look at his disadvantages. He never knew his father; was brought up by Georgina entirely on her own, and she’s never been altogether with it since Ilya died, has lived in that gloomy old mansion of a place for twelve years of his young life. Little wonder he’s a bit, well, reticent.’

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