"Yeah, I love a good dirty threesome. It'd be quite something, watching you and her going to work on each other."
"You know, I think I'll enjoy that. Roselyn always looks so sweet It would be fun to fuck her. I bet she'd be really hot if you press all the right buttons."
Without the name Lawrence could have forced himself to believe they were talking about someone else. That this was some ludicrous, appalling coincidence. Two other people going on a skiing trip. A different girl his father fancied. Someone else. Not them. Not him. Not Roselyn.
Lawrence's trembling fingers pushed at the heavy wood door. His father was sitting behind the desk, with Miranda perched in front of him. The front of her dress was unbuttoned, allowing her breasts to spill out Her right nipple was pierced by a diamond stud. Doug was slowly licking the bud of erect flesh. He looked up in dismay as the door swung back to reveal Lawrence standing there.
Miranda gasped and hurriedly pulled her dress together.
"Son?"
It was the first time Lawrence had ever seen his father flustered. The guilt and shock simply didn't belong on that ever-assured face.
"Oh, boy. Listen, what we were saying..."
"Yes?" Lawrence surprised himself by how calm he was. "What, Dad? It's not as bad as I think? Is that what you're going to tell me?"
Doug's political control came back with a rueful grin. "I don't suppose I can, really."
"You bought her."
"It's a little more complicated than that."
"How? How is it complicated? Did you pay for her?"
"Lawrence..."
Lawrence took three fast paces into the room, bringing him up to the desk. "DID YOU PAY FOR ROSELYN TO SCREW ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?"
Doug flinched back from the fury. "Look, you were losing it, all right? Your school grades were rock bottom, you didn't have any friends, the psychiatrist said you were borderline emotionally retarded, unable to connect with the real world. I was seriously worried. I am your father, however good or bad I am at it."
"So you bought me a whore."
"Son, you had to realize how much Amethi has to offer for someone like you. I couldn't have you throw all that away. And she connected you. Call her what you like. Blame me for the way you met, and I admit it was pretty low. But look at you now, look what she's done, how much she's straightened you out. You're top of the class, you play in all the A-teams, outside school you're the one everybody socializes with. She's shown you how much there is to life here. I promise you I never lied when I said I was proud of what you've achieved."
"Of course you're proud. I became exactly what you wanted. Why did you ever have me, Dad? Why didn't you just clone yourself?"
"Son, please, I know this isn't easy. I mean, hell, I never thought you would fall for her quite like this."
"Why not, she's hot, remember? What else was I going to do, a loser like me?"
"Lawrence, you'll get over this. Admittedly"—he shrugged reasonably—"you'll probably hate me forever, but I can live with that, because I know I did the right thing."
"No, Dad, you did not do the right thing." Lawrence turned round and walked out.
Lawrence didn't know how he got there. He didn't even know when he got there. But sometime later that day, or week, or year, he stood outside the door to the O'Keefs' apartment. Even when it finally came into focus and he recognized where he was, he took a long time before he brought his hand up and knocked.
It was a gentle rap with his knuckles. Lawrence barely heard it himself. He knocked harder. Then harder still. He pounded on the door, seeing it shake in the frame.
"Open up!" he screamed. "Let me in!"
The lock clicked back and he stopped hammering. His hand hurt. Drops of blood welled up on his grazed knuckles.
Lucy O'Keef opened the door. "Oh. Lawrence. It's you." Her shoulders sagged, presumably with remorse. "Your father called me earlier. He said you..."
"Where is she?" he growled.
"I don't think this—"
"WHERE IS SHE?"
Roselyn eased her mother to one side. She must have been crying a long time for her eyes to be so red.
At that moment, she'd never looked more vulnerable and adorable. He stared at her mutely. There was nothing he could bring himself to say. Because he knew now that it was all true. And the one thing he couldn't stand was for her to have to say it to him.
He walked off back down the corridor to the elevator.
"Lawrence." Roselyn came out of the apartment, following him. "Lawrence, please, don't go."
He walked faster. Then he was running. His hand slammed on the little silver button set in the wall. Mercifully, the elevator door slid open straightaway. He stepped inside and pressed for the lobby.
"Lawrence." She slapped her hand against the door edge, and it froze. "I'm so sorry, Lawrence. I'm so sorry. I love you."
"He paid you." His thoughts were in so much turmoil he had trouble getting the words out. "He made you do it."
"No." She was sobbing. "No, Lawrence."
"What then? He didn't pay you?"
"The money wasn't for me. You don't understand. It's not like that."
"Like what? What can I possibly not understand?"
"I said yes because of Mary and Jenny."
"Your sisters? What the hell have they got to do with this?"
"We had nothing left. Nothing. McArthur shares are just about worthless on Earth. Not that we ever had many. You can never know what that's like, to be poor. Not you. You're a golden child on a planet that's too young to know any form of decay. This was the only way we could escape Dublin, get off Earth. Me ... doing this."
"You're part of it. You're the biggest part of his lie there was. I hate you for that!"
"I never lied to you, Lawrence."
He punched the lobby button again, wanting this torment to end. "Shut up! Shut up, you bitch. All of this has been false. All of it."
"Only the beginning." She leaned against the wall, utterly exhausted. "That's all, Lawrence. Just me saying hello. One little word. Not the rest of it. Everything since then was genuine. I can't fake loving you for a year and a half. You know it was real. You know that!"