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Logan groaned when his mother turned up. It wasn’t that he wasn’t pleased to see her, because he was; in fact he missed her constantly when he was at school. But she’d arrived in a damn limousine, swathed in furs, and the most ridiculous red pillar-box hat he’d ever seen perched on top of her dark curls.
Even worse, he had to endure the embarrassment of watching his Geography teacher rushing forward and fawning all over her, and her flirting back. Why couldn’t she just be like a normal mother and drive a normal car? Why did she have to make such an entrance all the time? Why couldn’t she just be a graceful has-been instead of still trying to retain her image as Marina Moss, Movie Star?
He stayed in the shadows by the door with his school cases and waited until she was done. He’d deliberately asked her to come late, so that most of his friends would be gone already. It was bad enough that she sometimes cried when she saw him, but even worse was the fact that every single one of them had seen the movie where she played a mermaid, a topless mermaid. The movie was fifteen years old now, but that didn’t stop the guys from still putting it on all the time to torture him.
“Logan, my darling!” Marina untangled herself from the Geography teacher as she spotted him. She held her arms wide, as though expecting him to run into them like a six-year-old. So not happening now that he was sixteen.
He let her hug him though, and briefly gave her a tight hug in return, letting her overpowering perfume take him back to being young and innocent.
She held him away from her and dotted at her eyes with a handkerchief as she looked him up and down. “I swear you get taller and more handsome every time I see you.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “You always say that, it’s only been three months.”
He handed his cases to the chauffeur and shooed her back into the car before anyone else came over to speak to them.
“So what’s this in aid of? Have you got a new film part or something?” He gestured to the limousine once they were inside and driving away.
Marina gave a giggle, “It’s a bit OTT, isn’t it, but Daniel insisted; he wanted to give you a good welcome.”
Logan sighed, “Another new boyfriend, Mum?”
Her smile faltered slightly. “It’s a bit more serious than that, we’re living together – it really is it this time. Don’t be mad, Logan, but we’re not going home, we’re going to Daniel’s house for Christmas. I really want you to get to know him and like him.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re already living together? How long have you been a couple? Two weeks maybe? You were only just broken up with Dominic when I went back to school.”
“Actually, that’s when I met him.” She looked coy and Logan waited with a sudden bad feeling.
“I was dropping you off and decided to go into Oakworth for a coffee afterwards,” (Logan mentally inserted the word vodka instead of coffee) “and there was Daniel. He’d just dropped his daughter off, and had the same idea. And when we found out how many friends we had in common...” Logan held up his hand stopping her.
“His daughter?” His voice was dangerously close to displeased, which made his mother look all distressed, but he wasn’t falling for her act.
“Wendy. She’s about your age, and in North Tower as well I think. Isn’t that just perfect?”
“Wendy... Weird Wendy? Wendy Silverman? Oh no, no way.” He put his head in his hands.
“Darling, I thought you’d be pleased! Now you don’t have to spend Christmas with just your boring old mother, but you’ll have someone your own age to play with as well.”
Logan gave a sarcastic laugh. “Wendy does not play. Especially not with boys like me.”
“I’m sure she’ll be lovely.” Marina patted Logan’s knee. “Daniel says she’s very bright.”
Logan flopped back against the seats and groaned. This was going to be the worst Christmas ever. Two whole weeks with no one but Weird Wendy. He would bet his hat that she was a nag if ever there was one. She probably didn’t even approve of Christmas and all the fantastic parties his mother usually threw. Speaking of which...
“You said you and Daniel had lots of friends in common. What is he? No, let me guess, an actor? A producer? A director?” He knew he’d hit the nail on the head when she thinned her lips defensively.
“Yes, of course he’s a director,” she confirmed. “Surely even you have heard of Daniel Silverman? I just can’t understand why you didn’t tell me years ago that he was the father of one of your friends.”
Logan blew air out of his cheeks in a frustrated manner. His mother only ever heard what she wanted to hear. She was totally ignoring Logan’s obvious feelings about Wendy and focussing only on herself.
Now he thought about it, of course he’d heard of Daniel Silverman. But he hadn’t known he was Wendy’s father. He had to give her credit for not making a big deal of that. Too many kids bragged about who their parents were. But Logan always wanted to crawl under a rock when people mentioned his own parents. He hated that they were both well-known figures who conducted their lives in the public eye. His father, in particular, was still riding high in Hollywood, and far too busy to play family guy. But Logan was grateful for that, and visited him very rarely. Thankfully the press seemed to have no idea he’d ever had a son, especially as Logan had taken his mother’s name rather than his father’s. Marina had never changed her name despite three marriages because it was the one she was known as, and god forbid someone should not realise how famous she had once been.
“So Daniel has a limo?” Logan pushed some buttons to see if there was a hidden mini-bar anywhere with snacks inside.
“No, he borrowed it from set, just for you.”
“So who picked up Wendy?” Logan frowned with confusion.
“He did; they don’t live that far, just to Stratford-on-Avon. Daniel has a lot of connections with the theatres there, you know, for when he wants to do Shakespeare.”
Logan nodded absently. Somehow he couldn’t see Wendy appreciating a limo either. It wouldn’t fit with her eco-warrior image. He was curious to see her house now.
“Did you know that Wendy dyes her hair black with bright purple stripes?” Logan asked his mother, trying to put a dent in her optimism.
She nodded, “I’ve seen photos. What do you call that these days? Is it still punk?”
“I don’t know, punk sounds kind of dated, I think they call it emo, or maybe goth, I never know the difference.” Logan shrugged.
His mother wrinkled her nose slightly at the word goth, but didn’t comment. Logan smiled to himself and hoped that Wendy had a massive upside-down crucifix on her bedroom wall or something else to horrify his mother.
“Have you seen her bedroom?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s pretty, but she certainly loves purple.”
Oh. So it wasn’t painted black then; that was a shame.
Finally they reached Stratford and soon pulled up outside the house. It was a rather beautiful detached Victorian house with ivy climbing up the side, and Logan was disappointed by how classy it looked. After the stunt with the limousine he’d been hoping for something really brash that he could mock.
A man came out to the step and then called to someone back inside. He had to shout a second time before Wendy appeared reluctantly beside him to greet them.
“Hey, loser,” she acknowledged Logan as he got out of the car.
“Weirdo,” he responded in kind, tilting his head to her.
Oh yeah, it was going to be a fun Christmas all right.