Boyfriend Material(42)

There was a pause.

“Oh,” said Alex. “Maybe you have thought it through. Didn’t I say he was frightfully clever?”

Miffy nodded. “Yes, he’s splendid. I think you chose an excellent fake boyfriend, Ally.”

“Hang on.” I nearly choked on shortcrust. “He’s not Ally’s…I mean, Alex’s fake boyfriend. He’s my fake boyfriend. Also we should probably stop loudly saying the word ‘fake’ because it’s kind of giving the game away.”

Alex had reverted to his ordinary state of confusion. “Are you completely sure? Because I definitely remember it being my idea.”

“Yes, it was an idea for how I could fix my reputation.”

“It seems a shame.” Miffy had finished her beef Wellington and was making inroads into Alex’s. “Ally and Ollie seem to be getting on terribly well. Of course, their couple name would be Ollivander, which I’m sure I’ve heard somewhere before.”

“I think,” offered Oliver, “it’s the name of the wand-maker from Harry Potter.”

Suddenly, Alex let out a joyful yelp. “So it is. I should have spotted that immediately. I’ve read the whole series thirty-eight times. Didn’t mean to. Just, by the time I got to the end, I forgot how it started. Only thing I’ve read more is The Republic.”

“Yeah.” I tried to catch Oliver’s eye and failed. “I can see how those two fandoms overlap.”

Alex was still beaming like he had a coat hanger in his mouth. “It brings back such happy memories. When the films came out, I got all my college pals together, and we sat in the front row of the cinema and shouted ‘House’ every time the old alma mater popped up on screen.”

This was one of those gatekeepery anecdotes that you needed an English/Posh Git dictionary to make any sense of. Why was Alex’s house in a Harry Potter movie?

“Oh”—Oliver, of course, had read the English/Posh Git dictionary at the age of four and now had his tell-me-more face on, which I really preferred him to be directing at me—“so you’re a Christ Church man?”

That made more sense. Although if there was anyone I’d have believed went to Hogwarts, it was Alex.

“For my sins. Same as Pater. And Mater, for that matter. Bit of a family tradish, actually. Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great…” Alex started ticking them off on his fingers “…great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandpapa used to go on the lash with Cardinal Woolsey. I mean, until he got exiled. No fun after that.”

Oliver was still attending courteously. Polite bastard. “No, I can’t imagine he would be.”

“So what about you? You didn’t go to the other place, did you? Could explain rather a lot.”

Miffy elbowed him.

“I mean,” Alex added hastily, “the vegetarianism. Not the homosexuality.”

“Oriel.”

And they were back to their private code. I’d just about worked out that House was an Oxford thing. So where was the other place? Was it hell? If so, Hi, weather’s lovely down here. And as far as I knew, Oriel was either a songbird or a biscuit. What was even happening right now?

This, right here, was why somebody like Oliver would never date somebody like me in real life.

Alex nodded approvingly. “Good show. Knew lots of splendid chaps from Oriel. Mostly rugger fellows, you know. Did you go in for that?”

“No,” said Oliver. “I was very committed to my studies. I’m afraid I was rather boring at college.”

“You’re rather boring now,” I muttered, perhaps a teensy bit louder than I meant to.

Which made Oliver look at me, finally. But not in the way I wanted.

“Luc,” cried Miffy. “I thought Oliver was supposed to be your boyfriend. That’s a beastly way to talk about him.”

Now Alex was glaring at me as well. “Well said, old thing. Can’t go around badmouthing the ladies like that. I mean, gentlemen. I mean, your gentleman.”

“If I were you”—Miffy patted Oliver on the hand—“I’d kick him to the kerb, girlfriend. Boyfriend. Oh I say, that doesn’t work.”

“I’m inclined to agree, Miffles.” Alex wagged his fork sternly. “I would never have suggested Luc get a boyfriend if I knew he was going to rag on the fellow. You should probably leave him and go out with me instead. Hashtag Ollivander.”

Miffy nodded. “Yes, do go out with Ally. I could have one of you on each arm. It’d be the most ripping lark.”

“For fuck’s sake”—once again, I was slightly louder than I meant to be—“stop trying to steal my boyfriend. You don’t even like men.”

Alex gave me a genuinely wounded look. “Of course I like men. All my friends are men. My father’s a man. You’re the one who’s being horrid to everybody. Telling Oliver he’s boring when he’s an Oxford fellow and has been dashed good company all evening. And now implying I’m the sort of chap who doesn’t get along with other chaps. When really”—here, Alex turned downright haughty—“it’s becoming very clear to me that you’re the sort of chap who doesn’t get along with other chaps. I really feel I ought to apologise, Oliver.”