THE first snow of winter came very late in the year. It iced the city of London like a well-designed wedding cake. Normally, the beautiful scene would have put Mac into a serene sort of bliss. But today, the marriage metaphor only served to further his anxiety and apprehension. So much so, that the friendly knock at the door made him nearly jump from his own skin.

'Mac? You wanted to see me?'

'Yes, Zed, please—' He turned, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

Closing the door behind himself, Zed took a seat. 'What's up, mate?'

Mac carded a hand roughly through his hair before perching himself on the front edge of his desk. 'Look... I'm going to ask you something, and I need you not to judge me for it.'

The tension in the room was suddenly very palpable as Zed leaned forward, frowning. 'Augustus, what's wrong?'

He gritted his teeth against his own first name. 'It isn't that serious, all right? I just need someone to go with me to my cousin's wedding, that's all.'

Zed relaxed into his seat, laughing quietly as a grin spread across his face. 'Is that all? Mac, I'd be happy to go with you! It's not like that type of thing is anything new with us. When is it?'

Sighing deeply, Mac started to fidget with something on his desk. 'Actually... I was hoping... that I might be able to ask your— sister.'

Mac almost cringed as a deep frown settled on Zed’s brow. 'Zelda? Well, I'll have to ask her, but I'm sure she would, if she's free. But can I just ask you, why— her?’

Mac cleared his throat, dodging the question. 'I'd ask Salma, but she's out of town again. It's the week before Christmas, if Zelda can get away. I'd be more than happy to buy her a dress for the occasion, have the car pick her up... The works. Her husband won't mind, will he?'

'I'm sure he won't, but... you haven't answered my question. Why her?' He didn't speak. Instead, he set his friend with a very meaningful stare. Understanding seemed to finally wash over Zed as, with a sigh, he answered his own question. 'Because she is... 'her.' You're not out yet to your family, are you?'

Mac looked away, shaking his head. It was Zed's turn to card a hand through his hair. 'Christ, Mac. Did your mother know?'

'I think so, but it's not something we ever talked about, no. Seemed easier that way.'

'I'm sorry, I guess... I really just don't understand. It's the twenty-first century! Surely they couldn't possibly have a problem—'

'I asked you not to judge me, all right?! You don't know my father like I do!' The sharp tone took both men by surprise, none more so than Mac himself.

Zed put up both hands in defence. 'I'm sorry. I'm not judging. Everyone has their own reasons. I didn't mean to push. I'll ask Zelda and have an answer for you tomorrow.'

As Zed turned to leave, Mac's guilt got the better of him. 'Zed, I'm sorry. Truly. Just— I’m sorry.' You have no idea how sorry.

'Nothing to be sorry for, mate.'

Mac remained alone in his office for some time, feeling the full weight of the conversation for much longer than he would have wished.

TWO weeks later, Mac sat awkwardly next to Zelda at the reception, wishing he could be anywhere else. He'd never been comfortable in family settings, but was feeling increasingly more awkward as he forced a fake relationship with a near perfect stranger. Halfway through the ceremony, he found himself regretting not asking her sibling, after all.

Zelda, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. Claiming she had always wanted to be an actress, she had slipped effortlessly into the role of “Mac's Girlfriend”. With her new six hundred quid frock as her costume, she even went so far as to hold Mac's hand during the majority of the ceremony. The reception only further fuelled her ridiculous improv session as she regaled his relatives with stories of their “wonderful adventures” to different locals around the world that neither of them had ever stepped foot in. Finally, Mac found the only thing capable of silencing her: food.

The night grew almost pleasant for Mac after that, as he took comfort in the silence and the bar. He had been making a conscious effort to not drink his weight in alcohol. Tonight, however, was a special occasion. That occasion being more about stepping away from work, for once, and less about his cousin's happy nuptials.

As they sat in their seats watching the newlyweds dance for the first time, Zelda had downed just enough liquid courage to begin asking Mac personal questions. He instantly regretted showing her the bar. 'So, what the hell is up with you and my brother?'

Mac choked on his champagne enough to cough for several moments, after which he was somewhat teary-eyed. 'He's my employee. My friend. That's all.'

'Mm-hm. Is that why you drunkenly called him to come over at midnight, just for a snog?'

Turning beet red, Mac did his best to shush her, looking around to make sure no one heard her question. 'Say that a little louder, would you? I'm not sure the caterer in the back could hear!'

'I'm just saying! You guys spend all of your time together—'

'We work together.'

'—you talk constantly—'

'Again, work.'

'You've talked about him nonstop this entire time—'

'He's the only thing you and I have in common! Of course I have!'

'All right, Mr “answer for everything”, then answer this: why did you ask me to come with you tonight?'

'Zed told; I needed a date.'

'Yes, but why me?  You could have asked anyone. I'm sure you know plenty of women. You could have asked a friend's girlfriend or wife. You could have paid an employee or a real actress, at the very least. People do it, you know, and it's not like you don't have the money. So, why did you ask me, of all people?'

'Because I needed someone I could trust.'

Zelda laughed aloud, causing people to turn around. With a stern look from Mac, she quieted herself before speaking again. 'I'm a near perfect stranger! You met me once before tonight! How could you possibly trust me?'

'It’s Zed I trust.  And you two are, actually, two peas from the same pod. I figured I'd be safe with you, but this conversation is gradually making me regret my decision.' She sat back with an extremely satisfied grin on her face, only fuelling his anger more. 'What?’

'See? Right there. You trust him. I've made my point.'

'He's my employee! Of course I trust him! If I didn't trust him, he wouldn't have a job.'

'Yes, an employer trusts employees with business matters, but this is your personal life! My brother talks to me, you know. I know all about your little golf trips and galas and the whole penis painting thing.'

'Volume! Please!'

'You can't tell me that a—' She assumed a mocking tone. '—“big powerful businessman” like you shows trust to anyone lightly and especially not in personal matters. You were bred for this life. Being cutthroat and demanding is part of that. There's no way that Augustus James MacIntire V helps a colleague— a subservient— to a higher position for no damn good reason!'

She was doing her best to rattle him, but he wasn't about to play her game. Not just yet. 'You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?’

'It's a common topic of reflection for me, yes. My brothers' happiness always is.'

'Well, since you talk to your brother so damn much, what does he have to say about this?'

'He writes it off as you two being friends, but I know better.'

'See? There you go. Friends. Just as I've said.' But somehow, the word lay heavy in his mouth.

'Yeah, mate, “friends” don't have their other “friend's” dating profiles screenshotted in their mobiles.' The comment caught Mac off guard until Zelda held up the offending evidence in her hand, with Zed's face smiling back at him.

Mac went bright red, snatching his mobile from her hands. 'How in the bloody hell did you get this? And, more importantly, how did you get in?!'

'It was on the table and I know your birthday.'

Groaning, Mac roughed a hand over his face. 'Remind me to murder Higgins later.'

'You haven't answered my question.'

He sighed deeply, taking a moment to look at the comforting face before returning the mobile to his pocket. 'It reminds me to have more than just “glimpses of humanity”. To be a better person. That's all.'

Zelda simply smirked, resting her elbows on the table to look at him. 'Zed gave a similarly lame excuse for your profile being in his mobile.'

'He— what?'

'Yep. Screenshotted yours, too. Said something about how it reminded him that he was appreciated, or some such nonsense.'

He fixed her with a look, trying very hard to remind himself where he was and who he was conversing with. No matter what he was thinking, he couldn't say it aloud. Not here, not now, and certainly not to her. Finally, he settled for speaking just above a whisper. 'Look, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention this conversation to Zed. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, let's just say it never happened at all.'

'Oh, don't worry. I won't have to. Because you're going to tell him.'

Mac scoffed and grinned. 'Oh, I am, am I?'

'Yes. Because no matter how much you want to, you won't be able to forget this conversation. And it's going to continue to weigh on you until you do something about it. Because, at the end of the day, Augustus Lord MacStuffy-Pants V, you're just a man. And all men think the same way.'

'And you know men?'

'I grew up with four brothers. I know men better than you do. Trust me, Mac. Give it a little while, and you'll be running to tell him.'

He sat back, considering her for a long time. 'You truly are a force of nature, I'll give you that. I either feel bad for Zed for having such a sibling… or jealous. I haven't quite decided.'

She beamed devilishly. 'I do tend to have that effect. Now…! Since I'm not “getting any” from you tonight, you'd better dance with me, or this dress will have gone completely to waste!'

AFTER having the car drop Zelda at her flat, Mac walked silently along the river Thames. His thoughts were a jumble, ranging from work to his golf game. But, no matter his train of thought, he always seemed to come back to Zelda’s words. Zed gave a similarly lame excuse for your profile being in his mobile.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned on the stone barrier, looking out at the rising fog over the river. However, what he saw there wasn't water, but two people sitting in a restaurant having tea. As he watched, the scene progressed like a well-organised play, though the voices were soft as the memory struggled to surface completely in his mind.

Mac sat down at the table, slightly out of breath. 'Sorry, Mum. Meeting ran long.'

She smiled good-naturedly, stirring her tea idly with a spoon. 'Yes, I figured. Just like when I missed you yesterday because of a meeting?'

'I take a lot of meetings, Mum. Just part of the job.'

'Well, your assistant did a wonderful job of covering for you while you took that very important meeting under your desk.'

He flushed, trying not to grin. 'I wasn't under my—'

'Augie, I'm your mother. I know when you're hiding from me, no matter how good a performance your Higgins gives. Spunky little fidget. I must say, he almost had me. If he hadn't looked back when he described your silver plated suppository, I would have been fooled.'

A frown flashed across Mac’s face. 'He— what?'

'You couldn't hear him?'

'Too muffled. I could barely hear what you were saying and that was only because you were facing me. Though, come to think of it, I do remember hearing something about a spoon.'

'Well, he was very honest and strangely loyal. I found it quite endearing, actually. Especially the part where he called you an egotistical, self-involved prick.'

Mac's blood suddenly neared its boiling point. 'That's it! The second I get back, that little wanker is fired!'

'You sack that boy and I swear to you, Augustus Five, you will not be long for this world. Do you hear me?' Mac stopped dead at the severe nature of his mother's tone and facial features. Once she was sure that her point had been made, she relaxed, sipping her tea. 'You'd be a fool not to keep him on for as long as possible. I'm not going to be around forever, Augie, and when I'm gone—'

He scoffed. 'Oh, please, you'll outlive us all!'

'When I'm gone… there'll be no one left to tell you off. That boy is good for you. You may not see it, now. In fact, it may take you a very long time for you to see it. But he is good for you. And you need him in your life, not just your business.'

With a laugh, he took up his own tea. 'Oh? And what's that supposed to mean, then?'

His mother didn't answer, quietly drinking her tea.

Mac sighed, as he continued to watch the now silent scene. 'What did you mean, Mum?'

As if she'd been standing there the entire time, close by his side at the edge of the Thames, Mrs MacIntire spoke softly. 'You know what I meant, love. Deep in your heart.'

His frustration growing, Mac turned to face the angelic figure of his mother. 'No, Mum, I don't! I never knew what you meant because you never explained!'

'Sweetheart, you didn't want me to explain. It's the same reason you never told me about your preference in lovers, why you never told me about Alastair…'

'I didn't want you to know. I thought—'

'Oh, darling, I knew. A mother always knows. You never said anything, so I didn't want to push you. But I knew. Of course, I blame your father for you not telling me, not you. He's a good man, but there are so many things I regret him teaching you.'

'Oh? Like what?'

'Well, closing off your heart, for one. It never would have worked with Alastair because you were never comfortable with him. You never opened up.'

'How could you possibly know that, Mum?'

'The dead know everything, love.'

Tears filled his eyes as he turned to her, wanting desperately to embrace her. 'I'm so sorry, Mum. I'm sorry it took this for me to finally be honest with you. I'm sorry—'

'Stop apologising, son. Apologies won't help you.'

'Then what will?' He looked back over the fog at the two strangers he knew so well.

‘I've already told you what you need. You didn't listen.'

'Tell me again.' But as he turned, he was alone once more, standing along the river in the cold December air.