Читать книгу Four Stories - Marcus Attwater - Страница 3

Apollo was hurriedly packing a bag. Clean shirt, underwear, socks. Toothbrush, deodorant, razor. His hand hovered over the packet of condoms – you never knew did you? – in they went. Keys, phone, wallet. Guitar on his back. Ready. He clattered down the front door steps and out into the street, where a taxi was already waiting to take him to the airport. He made it just in time for check-in. Only when the plane had taken off, climbing the clear California sky, did he have time to reflect on what he was hurrying towards. In a few hours this plane would deposit him in Washington, and then it was an easy drive to his father’s house in Mount Olympus. He looked out of the window, flying toward the rising sun, and wondered what had prompted his stepmother to call a family gathering at such short notice.

By the time Apollo swung his hired car onto Cypress Avenue, most of the family was already there. He could see Ares’ battered pick-up parked in the drive, next to Hermes’ sleek silver Audi. He could hear Aphrodite’s laughter coming from indoors as he picked up his overnight bag from the passenger seat and slammed the car door. He heard the reassuring rumble of his father’s voice. Home. Amphitrite was the first to notice his arrival. He was trying to slip in quietly by the kitchen door, but Poseidon’s wife descended in a whoosh of perfume and airborne kisses, crying ‘Darling, you’re here!’, which brought out the complete set of his aunts and sisters to welcome him. Hera first, who was both his aunt and his father’s wife, whom he knew so well that he had long ago short-handed her into ‘mother’. She turned around from the kitchen range long enough to smile at him and say, ‘I’ve put you in the guest room on the second, with Ares and Hermes. Is that alright?’ Apollo nodded, it was all fine by him. Hera’s older sister Hestia said nothing, just squeezed his hand, weakly benevolent through the haze of whatever tranquillizer the doctor had last prescribed. Apollo’s twin sister Artemis came in to give him a short, happy embrace, and for a moment he was almost tearfully glad to be holding his lost half, his equal and his better, both like and unalike. Next Athena appeared, looking faintly disdainful of the emotional outpour going on around her, planting a cool kiss on his cheek. ‘Welcome.’ She was the only one of them to have turned out reasonably human, and Apollo suspected she rather despised the rest of them for not getting a grip. Aphrodite was the last of his sisters to arrive in the kitchen, making an entrance, as usual. She had dressed down for the family weekend, but the tight jeans and sloppy top she wore did nothing to temper her sensuality. As one of the very few males impervious to her charms, Apollo always rather admired Aphrodite’s technique. It was so blatant, but it worked. Her sinuous grace and actressy smile did nothing for him, though. It was her son he had to watch out for. An apparent teenager much too knowing for his age, Eros’s tricks had tripped him up before now. He’d be around somewhere, tagging after Ares or Zeus, trying to prick them with that ridiculous set of arrows he still carried. Fleeing his sister’s overfamiliar clutches, Apollo went to find the rest of his family. In the living room he clapped Ares on the shoulder, hugged Hermes and accepted a drink from Dionysos. He tried to ask his father, whom he found in an edgy discussion with Poseidon on the stairs, what this family meeting was all about, but Zeus would tell him nothing except a gruff, ‘Good to see you, son.’

Apollo dumped his bag and guitar on a bed in the second floor guestroom and on his way back down, stuck his head around the door of the den. Eros and a slightly older boy were sprawled on the couch, eyes and fingers stuck to the consoles of a video game. ‘Hey Apollo,’ Eros said, flicking his gaze upwards long enough to register the presence of his uncle. He nodded his head sideways at the older boy – really rather striking, Apollo thought, despite the teenage slouch – ‘This is Ganymede. He lives here. Hey, I made level six!’

‘Level nine,’ the other boy drawled, unimpressed. Apollo left them to it.

This is Ganymede, he lives here? Another of Zeus’s bastards? He would have to ask his father. He had met all the family now, except for Hades and Persephone, but no one ever saw Hades and Persephone, you just knew they were around.

The doorbell rang. Seeing that no one else had heard – too busy catching up on family gossip, no doubt – Apollo went to open the door. He was confronted by a scruffy youth surmounted by a teetering stack of flat boxes. ‘Titanides’ residence? Ordered sixteen pizzas?’

‘That would be us,’ Apollo confirmed. Hera came in from the kitchen. ‘Ah good, I thought they’d never arrive. We took the liberty of ordering for you, dear, as you weren’t here yet.’ Somehow, the stack of boxes was transferred to Apollo’s hands, and Hera’s money to the boy’s.

‘Food, everyone!’ Hera called. ‘In the living room, I think, we’re not going to be formal tonight. Artemis, fetch those boys out of the den.’

While they were eating, Apollo had a chance to observe his family more closely. He could see that Hera was upset about something, there was that tightness around her mouth which he associated with his father’s frequent infidelities. And sure enough his father looked uneasy, and spoke to his wife cautiously, as if anxious not to disturb her further. But surely that old story wasn’t why they were together? That could hardly be why Athena’s frown had deepened, and Ares looked more than usually belligerent. Apollo searched the faces of his family for an explanation, and suddenly realized he missed one. He hadn’t noticed yet, because he was used to her being more out of the house than in, but his baby sister wasn’t there. Apollo swallowed his last bite of pizza and licked his fingers. ‘Where’s Helen?’

There was immediate silence. Dionysos stopped drunkenly speaking to Athena. Ares ceased in midboast and swiveled away from Aphrodite to look at his mother. Eros and Ganymede stopped talking about computers and looked up, two perfect pictures of innocent curiosity. Hermes quietly put down his last slice of pizza and looked at his father, who had covered his face with one hand. It was Hera who finally spoke, and the words came slowly, as if they cost her much.

‘Helen is in Troy, New York. She’s with a man called Paris Iliades. He has taken her from the heart of her family.’

Apollo felt the heaviness of fate settle around his heart as Hera pronounced this calamity. His sister, his beautiful – even among gods – precious sister, alone among strangers. He saw his own reaction mirrored by his siblings, their faces hardened into awful masks of divine wrath. Ares and Athena had already known, they looked less shocked, but more determined. Hera continued: ‘I called you here together for one purpose. We must bring her back.’

For a moment Apollo was aware of the accord among them, as they were uniquely united, even the shadowy presence of Hades and Persephone, to bring back their stolen child. Their sister, their daughter, their own. Then the moment passed and they talked again, all at once, and as Hera was besieged with questions, Apollo could not even be sure he had really seen Hades, whom no god ever met. The feeling of unity slipped away, and he had to force himself to listen to his stepmother, to keep his mind on what was being said. Hera had called them home to discuss how to get Helen back, and discuss it they did, as irritable and acrimonious, as futile and misguided, as noble and loving as if they were human. And as predictable. Ares recommended brute force. Athena counseled sober negotiation. Aphrodite proposed they should have Paris seduced by another woman. Artemis objected strongly to that suggestion. Dionysos poured more drinks, Hestia grew more confused and Hera more impatient. And Zeus was silent. Apollo, who could think of plenty ways to get Helen back into the fold but was reluctant to have his ideas join the growing heap of discarded plans, finally suggested they all sleep on it that night, and talk about it again when they had had time to think. After that, they dispersed into something more convivial. Hera and Hestia withdrew to the kitchen with Amphitrite. Artemis and Athena played a game of scrabble. Ares was firmly rebuffed by Aphrodite and went to bed early. Hermes joined Eros and Ganymede in the den to watch a movie. And Apollo finally tackled his father with the question that had been nagging at him.

‘This Ganymede, is he another brother?’

‘No, he’s not family,’ Zeus said, ‘I just took a liking to him. Adopted him, sort of.’

There was no misconstruing this ill-fitting euphemism. ‘He’s your lover?’ Apollo grinned, ‘Good for you, dad. But what does Hera think of this development?’

‘Oh, you know. She always likes to have young people around.’

And while this was undeniably true, Apollo had the feeling there were things his father was not telling him. But no more was said about the subject, and having seen quite enough of his family by now, Apollo went to bed.

He’d been asleep for an hour or more when he was woken by the door opening and Hermes coming in. Ares and Apollo had commandeered the room’s twin beds, and in the faint light Apollo could see his brother looking doubtfully at the squeaky camp bed Hera had unearthed from the attic.

‘I wouldn’t bother, if I were you,’ Apollo told him softly, scooting sideways in his bed to make room. Hermes looked relieved. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not.’

Hermes folded his clothes neatly over a chair and climbed into bed in his shorts and t-shirt. He curled up with his back to Apollo, knees almost up to his chin. Apollo slipped an arm around him and drew him back so they fitted together comfortably. So close, Hermes smelt fresh and clean, like an evening just after rain. Apollo breathed in deeply. So different from his sunny-salty self.

‘Hey little brother,’ he whispered into Hermes’ curly hair. Trailing down his hand, he stroked the tiny, soft-feathered wings on his brother’s ankles. ‘How do you hide them?’

‘Fold them upwards and never wear short socks,’ Hermes replied with a closely confined shrug. In the other bed Ares snored and rolled over heavily. Good, Apollo thought, he’s dead to the world. He turned Hermes around a little, onto his back, so he could kiss the side of his mouth. But when Apollo gently pushed his tongue between his lips Hermes pulled away. ‘No.’

Disappointed, Apollo let go. But Hermes caught his hand and firmly held his arm in place. Apollo sighed and hugged him. Hermes was the only member of his family who wasn’t predictable. You never really knew where you were, with Hermes.

Apollo woke with the dawn, as he always did, an unfortunate side-effect of people connecting him with the sun. But today he decided that nothing would be gained by rising early, and he allowed himself to drift off again. He woke up later when Ares got out of bed and left the room. Hermes was still asleep, or pretending to be, his upper body turned away from his brother. Apollo lay looking at him for a moment, before moving close again and taking him in his arms. He was met with a sleepily acquiescent mumble. Hermes’ t-shirt had ridden up, leaving the small of his back exposed, and Apollo rubbed himself against the warm, smooth skin, while his hand sought to free Hermes’ cock from his tight shorts. This intimate touch seemed to wake Hermes up completely. ‘Kiss,’ he commanded, twisting around to face Apollo. They rolled over, Apollo on top, kissing hungrily while their hands groped about lower down. Then Hermes flipped about onto his belly, in a quick, slithering move. Apollo pulled the shorts down and pressed a hand onto his buttocks, sliding his middle finger in between. Hermes expelled his breath in a choked, jagged ‘Oh,’ and clamped a hand onto Apollo’s thigh. Condom, Apollo thought, with the small part of him that was still rational, in my bag. Hermes grunted in protest as he took his hand away, so he started to kiss him again in compensation while he flailed around on the floor for his bag. Just as his fingers hooked on the strap, there was a knock on the door. Before either of them could call out ‘Just a moment!’, their father came in.

‘Boys, I need to talk to you,’ Zeus said, sitting down on the other bed, without paying attention to his sons’ strenuous efforts to disentangle. ‘It’s about this business that’s upset Hera.’

For a moment Apollo had trouble recollecting what he was talking about. His whole body was aching for Hermes, only inches away, and he focused on his father with uncomprehending reluctance. Hermes, meanwhile, tucked himself back into his shorts, pulled down his t-shirt and said, uncharacteristically snappish, ‘What about it?’

‘It’s all my fault, I’m afraid.’

This confession of guilt finally woke Apollo up to the fact that something was seriously wrong. It wasn’t like Zeus not to make some suitably lecherous remark when he found two of his sons on the brink of a fuck. It certainly wasn’t like him to shoulder the blame for anything when there were plenty others about to hand it to. Apollo sat up, decorously pulled the sheets up to his waist, and looked into his father’s handsomely lined face. ‘Start at the beginning, please.’

‘This family in Troy, the Iliades, Hera and I used to be friendly with them. We knew their forefathers, you see. And they know what we are, they have the blood themselves, from way back. Well, we would visit Troy sometimes, or they would come to Mount Olympus. A few months ago we were invited to the youngest daughter’s wedding. The whole Iliades family was there, of course, and Ganymede was among them. He’s some sort of cousin. Well, you know how it is at a wedding, ‘How do you know the happy couple?’ etc. We got to talking, and I invited him to come and stay in Mount Olympus whenever he liked.’

‘You kidnapped him,’ Hermes said flatly.

Zeus looked affronted. ‘Does he look kidnapped to you? He was glad to get away, he came to stay the same week. And he likes it here.’

‘But the Iliades didn’t like it,’ Apollo supplied, with a weary sense of the inevitable, ‘They want their golden boy back.’

‘Exactly,’ Zeus confirmed, ‘They sent this Paris here to fetch him. But Ganymede had already shared our food.’

‘Which means that he could only leave of his own accord,’ Hermes finished for him. ‘And he did not want to leave, and you couldn’t make him go even if you wanted to.’

‘He didn’t go with Paris. He doesn’t want to be with his family, he says his father is an ignorant tyrant and his mother’s compulsively possessive.’

Apollo smiled. ‘And you believed him? I’m sure that’s what I said about you when I was eighteen. Was I ever eighteen?’ he added, diverted by this idea.

‘If you were, I’m sure I wouldn’t have kept you home against your will,’ Zeus said.

‘We’re getting away from the point,’ Hermes said impatiently, ‘You said the Iliades sent Paris here. What happened next?’

‘Well, basically, he couldn’t budge Ganymede, so he took Helen. Like an exchange of hostages.’

‘So we could just swap them, then?’ Apollo said, briefly hopeful.

‘In principle, yes. Only… well, you see, your mother doesn’t know Ganymede is the reason Paris came here. As far as she knows, Paris has abducted Helen without provocation. I’ve kept quiet about Ganymede’s origins. Hera thinks Ganymede is just another of your brothers. I though it better if—’

‘She didn’t know,’ Apollo finished, ‘What a fucking mess!’

‘Ganymede really doesn’t want to go home to Troy?’ Hermes asked.

Zeus shook his head. ‘He says he won’t be fetched home like a child.’

‘Bet that now they’ve got your favorite daughter, you’d gladly put him out on the streets,’ Hermes said, unwontedly vicious. Apollo thought this was unfair, but it was beside the point, anyway. Ganymede had shared their food, and if he went, it would be of his own free will.

‘I do want my daughter back,’ Zeus said soberly, ‘And Hera is beside herself. I just thought you two should know the whole situation.’

‘And when are you going to tell mo— Hera?’ Hermes wanted to know.

‘I’m not sure now’s the right time…’

‘Father, as far as you are concerned never would be the right time. But she’ll find out, you know, she always does,’ Apollo told him.

‘Maybe later today,’ his father said unconvincingly, ‘When we’ve got a plan. She’ll feel better then.’

Hermes swung his legs out of bed. ‘I’m getting up, I can’t think about this lying down.’

‘Good idea,’ Apollo said, lying through his teeth while he watched his last hope that they would be allowed to conclude unfinished business evaporate. ‘Father, you really must talk to Hera, before she sets Ares loose among the Iliades. We don’t need that kind of trouble.’

‘I suppose not,’ Zeus replied, getting to his feet. ‘You’d better get up and dressed, too. Family meeting after breakfast.’

Apollo sighed. ‘Yes, father.’

But they did not wait until after breakfast. Over the bowls of cereal and painfully strong cups of coffee the discussion had already started up again. Apollo ate his cornflakes and listened. Ares was still advocating violence. Hermes and Artemis, more sensibly, were discussing a subtler approach. ‘Have to know what we’re dealing with first,’ he heard Hermes say, ‘I mean, why have they chosen to take Helen?’ Apollo supposed this was Hermes’ oblique way of introducing the subject of Ganymede, but if their father was listening, he didn’t pick up the cue. Zeus was talking to his own brother again. Poseidon, permanently ill-tempered, always had some grievance about the behavior of the younger gods, among whom he counted Zeus. He seemed to think that being abducted by a man from Troy, New York, was just another instance of the undignified antics of the younger generation. What astonished Apollo was that everyone was taking the Iliades’ hostility for granted. Knowing what had led up to Helen’s kidnap, he could believe Paris’ family wasn’t feeling too happy about them right now. But still, that did not exclude another explanation entirely. He said, to no one in particular, ‘How do we know Helen didn’t go with Paris because she wanted to?’

I really must not make a habit of dropping bombshells at mealtimes, Apollo thought while the others looked at him in shocked silence. Aphrodite was the first to find her voice.

‘He was a good-looking man, that Paris.’

‘Aphrodite, be serious,’ Athena snapped.

‘I am being serious, sister,’ Aphrodite said calmly, ‘Maybe Helen fell in love. She’s a woman, just like me and, um, you.’

‘Leave her father’s house for a human?’ Amphitrite exclaimed incredulously, ‘And I always thought she was such a clever girl.’

‘Don’t be silly Amphitrite, of course she hasn’t left us. She was taken, plain and simple,’ Athena argued, unable to credit her sister with such an escapade. Hera looked thoughtful. She clearly had a more realistic view of her stepdaughter’s behavior. That did not change her mind, however.

‘She’s much too young to leave home. Her place is here, with us.’

She’s much too young, Apollo thought, but how young was Helen really? Time did strange things to them. Time had caught Apollo and Hermes permanently in their twenties, Dionysos on the point where things could only get worse, and their father in a vigorous middle age. They had grown, once, in a half-remembered past, but once grown, they did not age. Helen was always sixteen, always almost a woman. And always, to Hera, the eternal mother, too young. Apollo would not be surprised to learn that his sister had joyfully seized her first chance to escape, whether she had really fallen in love with Paris or not. His doubts were quickly relayed to the late-comers at the breakfast table, Dionysos nursing a hang-over, and Eros and Ganymede, both looking as bored as only a teenager could be.

‘So Helen did a runner?’ Eros said, perking up. ‘I don’t blame her. You wouldn’t wanna be stuck in this place forever.’

‘It’s not so bad,’ Ganymede said, clearly anxious to stay on good terms with his new family.

‘Are you kidding?’ Eros said, ‘No movie theatre, no clubs, no bars, the mall is miles away.’

‘You’re too young for bars, anyway,’ Hera told him.

‘Grandma I’m, like, a god? I don’t get carded, I just smile sweetly,’ Eros said, doing just that.

Hera turned to Aphrodite, ‘You’re letting that boy run wild.’

Aphrodite smiled fondly at her son. ‘He takes after his mother, doesn’t he?’

‘Unfortunately,’ Athena said snidely, ‘But we were talking about Helen. I agree with Hera. Even if Paris somehow persuaded her, she’s too young to know her own mind.’

‘Come on Athena, that’s unkind. Helen’s a smart girl, she’s not going to be sweet-talked into anything,’ Hermes said. And so it went. All morning the talk turned on whether Helen had left Mount Olympus of her own free will or not. And it did not greatly help that the older gods’ concept of ‘free will’ was rather hazy. As far as Hera, Hestia and Poseidon were concerned, if her parents wanted Helen home, that was where she should be. Athena, although on more rational grounds, agreed. Ares always sided with his mother. Hermes just wanted the family to stick together. On the other side, Aphrodite was charmed by the romance of her sister’s situation. Artemis defended Helen’s right to make her own choices and Apollo wholeheartedly supported her. Zeus seemed to think the moment had come to be aloof and non-committal; he did not express an opinion either way. They drifted apart, first in knots of three or four, then in pairs, trying to see things from every possible angle – except perhaps Helen’s.

Apollo settled in the swing on the porch with his twin, glad to have her to himself for a moment.

‘So how are you doing? We’ve only talked about Helen so far. How are you?’

‘Oh, you know,’ Artemis shrugged beautifully, ‘I’m fine. The same really.’

Apollo knew. His sister’s life, he imagined, was much like his own. You had your job – because surviving with food and clothes was better than surviving just because you could not die. You had your friends – whom you never dared get too close to, whom you would always have to leave because they grew old and you did not. It wasn’t so strange that Artemis did not want to talk about it. There was nothing she could say. They were both cheerful by nature, but the emptiness of their lives among humans did not bear close scrutiny.

‘Have you heard from mother?’ Artemis now asked.

Apollo knew she did not mean Hera. He shook his head. ‘You know Leto hasn’t spoken to either of us since that business with Niobe’s children.’

Another thing they’d do better not to talk about. They had not followed their mother’s instructions to the letter, and with divine vindictiveness, she had punished them by refusing to see them. Apollo was not sure he even missed her. He was afraid Artemis did.

‘Have you spoken to father? You know there’s more to this business than Helen running off with a lover?’

‘I thought so. That Ganymede, he’s another Iliades, right? I met Paris once, they could be brothers.’

‘Cousins, I think father said.’

Artemis pulled a tired face. ‘You’d think father would know better by now than get into a mess like this.’

‘It’s part of his nature, sis. Fertility and paternity and all that.’

‘Well, I doubt Ganymede is going to give him babies! It’s bad enough Aphrodite thinking she can solve every problem by opening her legs. Don’t they know things aren’t done like that anymore?’

Apollo knew what she meant, knew she was right. They were so old-fashioned, even mankind had caught on by now and become a little more reasonable in their approach to personal interaction. It was just that they would always feel the terrible pull of the old order, as if there were no other examples to follow than that of their philandering father and jealous stepmother. Perhaps Artemis was stronger than he was, standing for her own choices while he went down the path of least resistance, trying to seduce everything in sight and pretending life was nothing but fun and sunshine. No better than my father, he thought, as his better half got up to talk to Hestia and he watched, lazily, how Ganymede and Eros stripped to their shorts to sunbathe on the lawn. Athena sank down next to him. ‘Fruit juice?’ Apollo took the glass distractedly.

‘I’d like to talk to you, if you’re mind isn’t elsewhere,’ Athena said.

Apollo dragged his gaze away, irritated by her tone. ‘Don’t you ever want to do that?’ he asked, trying to needle her, ‘Just want to look at what’s on offer?’

Athena let her gaze travel dispassionately over Ganymede. ‘If it was your sister lying there, maybe,’ she said, with the hint of a smile. Damn! Apollo was always forgetting that Athena wasn’t the frigid spinster Aphrodite pretended she was. She probably got laid more than he did.

‘What did you want to talk about?’

‘Helen. What else? I know you may be right when you say she went of her own free will. But Apollo, don’t make this into a story, please. Even if she is in love with this Paris person, it’ll only end in tears. We have to get our sister back. Don’t romanticize the situation. It isn’t a story,’ she emphasized.

‘I know it’s not a story. It’s Aphrodite who seems to think we’ve wound up in a cheap novel. But Athena, even if you are right, and it does all end in tears, Helen will have to find out for herself, won’t she? You can bring her back now, against her will, and she’ll just run off with the next likely candidate. She won’t learn unless you let her.’

‘You think no better than that of your sister? You don’t think she’s worth protecting?’

‘I never said that!’ Apollo said, noticing how easily they were slipping into old order vocabulary. Protect your sister. Protect what? Her honor? Their bloodline?

‘It’s you who underestimate her,’ he told Athena, ‘You would keep her confined. That’s not the way. She has to learn. Learn herself, not be told.’

Athena shook her head, getting up. ‘You may think you mean that. I’m not sure it’s not just an excuse to do nothing.’

Well, that puts me in my place, Apollo thought. Someone else who thinks I take after my father. Not taking responsibility was something Zeus did really well. He wondered if his father had spoken to Hera yet? Probably not, the morning had been short on shrieks and broken crockery. Apollo got out of the swing before another relative could trap him there and aim a sermon at him. In the house, he found Hermes looking through the bookcase in the study, trying to find a title he didn’t know. Apollo couldn’t help touching him, brushing a hand against his jaw, just below his ear. Hermes caught him by the wrist and bit his finger. ‘Hmm,’ he contemplated Apollo’s hand like a doubtful gourmand, ‘You don’t taste the same as you smell.’

Apollo laughed, pressing his knuckles against Hermes’ mouth. ‘Let’s get out of here for a while, shall we? Go for a drive or something.’

‘Oh, that’s a good idea!’ He hadn’t heard Aphrodite come in. ‘Shall I ask Artemis if she wants to come?’

‘Sure,’ Apollo said, without enthusiasm. He had meant just the two of them, you’d think a love goddess would understand.

‘You can’t stop them coming along,’ Hermes said, ‘Anyway, I want to talk to Artemis. Might as well.’

Apollo must have looked disappointed, because Hermes smiled at him and said, ‘Maybe later, OK?’

‘Sure,’ Apollo said again. Maybe later?

In the end, their drive turned into a shopping expedition. As soon as Hera noticed them trying to escape her sphere of influence she furnished them with a long list.

‘Lunch is every man for himself, I’m afraid, but tonight we’ll have a nice family dinner. Make sure you don’t forget the wine.’

‘Nice family dinner,’ Artemis fumed quietly as they got into the silver Audi, ‘Nice is just not the word.’

They drove to the supermarket, Hermes at the wheel, Apollo riding shotgun, the girls in the back. Artemis was talking earnestly to her brother. ‘But Hermes, what if Helen has made her choice? You wouldn’t want her back against her will.’

‘Of course not. But we don’t know that, right? That she went to Troy on her own accord is just an idea of Apollo’s. We just don’t know.’

‘So you are going to join Hera in her we-want-our-sister-back campaign?’ Apollo asked.

Hermes looked at him sharply. ‘I don’t understand you. Don’t you want her back? Don’t you miss her? The house is so empty without her.’

‘Empty? It’s too damn full.’

Hermes looked angry. ‘You’re not taking this seriously.’

‘Just watch the road, please,’ Apollo told him. After a while he broke the awkward silence himself. ‘Hermes, I do miss Helen. But if she’s happy…’

‘But we don’t know that,’ Hermes repeated. ‘Here we are.’

The supermarket car park was crowded. ‘Oh hell,’ Artemis said, ‘I do hate shopping. Come on Hermes, those two can get the groceries. We’ll go and have a coffee. There’s a donut shop over there.’

And with a quick wave she was gone, pulling Hermes in her wake, leaving Apollo and Aphrodite with the shopping cart and Hera’s list.

‘I do hope she talks some sense into him,’ Aphrodite said, nodding in the direction their siblings had vanished, ‘All this nonsense about the family sticking together.’ She shook her golden curls, causing several men in the vicinity to drop their shopping baskets and gape.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Apollo said vaguely. He’d stick to Hermes like a burr, if only they’d let him. ‘Let’s make a start on this list, OK?’

‘Tomatoes,’ Aphrodite read, ‘Lettuce. Olives (from the deli, not in cans). Four lemons.’

They worked their way down the aisles. ‘White wine,’ Aphrodite intoned, while uniformed staff stared at her in adoration, ‘Four bottles sweet, two dry. Eight bottles red. Cherry wine. Cherry wine? Whoever drinks cherry wine?’

‘Hestia probably,’ Apollo said, ‘She’s got some very specific tastes.’

‘Well, it’s her choice,’ Aphrodite said, bending down to pick up a bottle from the lowest shelf. Apollo distinctly heard several gasps of indrawn breath at this spectacle. ‘Is there much more?’ he asked, ‘We’ll have to go get a second cart if there is.’

‘Nearly there. Ice cream: there’s plenty in the freezer, but bring a tub if there’s something you especially like. This a set of instructions, not a shopping list! She never meant to go shopping herself.’

But Apollo wasn’t paying attention. ‘Frozen yogurt with walnuts and honey,’ he said with utter conviction. If they were going to have a ‘nice family dinner’ he could at least have his favorite ice cream.

Emerging from the store with their laden cart, they collected Artemis and Hermes from the donut shop. Artemis did not seem to have made much headway with her brother, but by unspoken agreement they did not talk about ‘the Helen business’ any more on the way back to Cypress Avenue. Athena welcomed them at the back door and helped put away the groceries. ‘Father and Hera are upstairs, talking,’ she confided, ‘I wonder what they have to speak about that isn’t for our ears?’

Apollo thought he could have hazarded a guess. His suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later by the sound of shouting from the living room.

‘You!’

Apollo and his siblings trooped out of the kitchen, attracted by Hera’s fury. She was magnificently angry. ‘You! You shameless, ungrateful, malignant little slut! Get out of my house! Get out of my sight! How dare you stand there and face me?’

Hera’s wrath filled the room, and Ganymede looked pinched and white under her onslaught. Apollo was impressed that the boy hadn’t run at the first sign of trouble. Hera wasn’t finished. ‘Back to where you came from, you double-faced parasite, you—’

‘Shut up!’ Eros hurled himself between Hera and Ganymede, face screwed up in childish anger. ‘You shut up! It’s not his fault!’ On the last word his voice rose to a squeal.

‘Don’t you talk to your grandmother like that,’ Poseidon stepped forward and slapped Eros’s face. The boy fell over, more from shock than from the force of the blow. Apollo felt himself roughly shoved aside as Aphrodite launched herself at her uncle. ‘Don’t you dare touch my child!’

Discord reigned. Eros sat up on the floor, dashing angry tears out of his eyes. Ganymede fell to his knees and put his arms around him. Apollo heard him say, ‘You didn’t have to. It is my fault, sort of.’ And Eros replying, ‘They can’t send you away, I won’t let them.’

Meanwhile, Ares was valiantly but vainly trying to calm down his mother, while she kept repeating, ‘Get him out of my house, get him out of my house.’

‘But he was invited, mother, he has eaten with us,’ Athena said.

Aphrodite’s verbal assault on Poseidon had led to a shouting match between her and Amphitrite, their shrieked invective almost as impressive as Hera’s. Still standing by the kitchen door, Apollo looked at Artemis and Hermes. ‘Feel like joining in?’ It wasn’t funny, but he had to say something.

‘Do you think we should try to separate them?’ Artemis asked, frowning at Aphrodite and Amphitrite, ‘They’ll be hurling more than insults soon.’

Hestia chose this moment to descend from the seclusion of her room. ‘Oooh, what’s going on?’ Her eyes were wide, and she visibly trembled.

‘It’s alright, Aunt Hestia,’ Hermes said, in the face of all the evidence to the contrary. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs? I think Hera would like to talk to you.’

Apollo saw what he was trying to do. Even Hera would not stay angry for long, if it meant upsetting her sister’s precarious balance.

‘Ares!’ Apollo had some trouble getting his brother’s attention, ‘Ares, take mother upstairs to Hestia. That’ll calm her down.’

To his relief, Hera accepted her son’s guiding arm. Next he turned to the boys still in a cuddle on the floor. ‘Eros? If you could unstick yourself for a moment and try to distract your mother? She’ll do someone an injury soon. And you,’ he said to Ganymede, ‘Better stay out of the way a bit until things are back to normal.’

Behind him, Artemis was telling Poseidon sharply to, ‘Stop your endless complaining, Earth-shaker, you’re only making things worse,’ and for once he shut up and left. Eros succeeded in dragging his mother away, Ganymede did a vanishing act, and Amphitrite retreated in a huff, following her husband. Apollo remained in the living room with Hermes, Artemis and Athena, all looking relieved. Only then did he realize that in all the turmoil his father had been nowhere to be seen. He might have confessed the part he had played, but he wasn’t sticking around to face the consequences. Dionysos, who had also managed to stay out of the way, now stuck his head around the door – ‘Drink, anyone?’ – and was surprised to find that all four of them enthusiastically accepted his offer.

By dinnertime, it was clear that the family had split into two camps. One side, led by Hera and comprising Hestia, Poseidon, Amphitrite, Athena and Ares, was still determined to have Helen back no matter what. The other side, of which Apollo found himself the reluctant figurehead, was equally determined to leave well alone. Beside himself this meant Artemis, Aphrodite, Dionysos when he could be persuaded to express a coherent opinion, and Eros and Ganymede. Hermes was still wavering, and Zeus wouldn’t open his mouth and risk Hera’s anger. Apollo suspected he was on their side, though. Despite this big faultline running through the family, dinner was indeed quite ‘nice’. It was as if, now their positions were clear, they could occasionally forget them and just have a laugh. Hera had been persuaded to tolerate Ganymede’s presence for the time being, and she was being positively affectionate to her husband, a phenomenon her children and stepchildren did not often witness. Meanwhile, Aphrodite was making much of Ares, flattering him and favoring him with her enchanting smile. Apollo and Artemis followed her performance with interest. ‘She’ll win him round eventually,’ Artemis said approvingly, ‘Momma’s boy will change his mind.’

Apollo looked askance at his twin. Whatever happened to her principles?

‘What’s that you’re eating?’ Hermes asked on his other side.

‘Frozen yogurt with walnuts and honey. Taste?’ he held out his spoon.

‘Hmm,’ Hermes steadied Apollo’s hand with his own and sucked the ice cream off the spoon with such a blissful look that it caused Apollo an instant jolt of arousal.

‘Is there more?’

‘All you want,’ Apollo replied, meaning it.

After dinner they sat around the table for a long time, finishing bottles of wine or drinking coffee, and carefully talking around the more sensitive subjects. Apollo caught himself out in the thought that if this Helen business hadn’t happened it would have been quite pleasant to spend a weekend with his family. But then, of course, there would have been no need to get together in the first place. He dutifully helped clear the table, and then went upstairs for a much-needed piss.

He had just finished when Hermes walked into the bathroom.

‘Don’t you lock the door?’

‘Only when I don’t want people to come in,’ Apollo shrugged, ‘You and Ares are the only ones sharing this room, and the other door is locked. Anyway, did you want privacy?’

‘I was just going to brush my teeth.’

‘Don’t bother,’ Apollo said, finally locking the bathroom door, ‘This is more urgent.’

Hermes did not respond at first, but he could not resist when Apollo took his face between his hands and started a wet, fervent kiss. When he finally, reluctantly, took his mouth from his brother’s, Apollo sank to his knees and started to unbutton Hermes’ fly. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’ Hermes said, sounding rather breathless. Apollo did not pay attention, he was tugging down Hermes’ jeans. ‘You’re not going to—’ Hermes suddenly shut up. There was a tapping of sharp fingernails on the door to the other bedroom.

‘There are only so many bathrooms in this house, you know!’ Amphitrite called in a jolly ‘hurry up’ kind of voice.

‘Oh fuck!’ Apollo cried in frustration. Hermes had already hitched up his pants again and was making for the door of their bedroom. Apollo got to his feet and opened the door for his aunt, then hurried after his brother.

‘Hermes? Hey…’

Hermes took hold of his upper arms in a decidedly brotherly fashion. ‘Look Apollo, let’s face it. It’s just not going to happen.’

‘We can make it happen, right? It’s up to us. Unless you don’t want to.’

Hermes smiled at him ruefully but did not reply.

‘Right,’ Apollo said bitterly, ‘It took me long enough to take the hint, didn’t it? You just don’t want me.’

‘It’s not like that,’ Hermes said gently, ‘Just not now, OK?’

Apollo turned away, ‘Well, fuck you then! You could have said, you know.’

‘Don’t be so— Oh damn you!’ Hermes suddenly let go. ‘I’m going to find Dionysos and get drunk.’ He walked out.

Apollo angrily kicked the unused camp bed, which squeaked in protest. Only then did he notice that this latest futile exchange with Hermes had been watched with interest by Eros, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rooting about in Apollo’s overnight bag.

‘And what the hell are you doing here?’ Apollo demanded. Eros wasn’t cowed by his uncle’s anger, but then, Apollo recalled, he had stood up to worse today.

‘Looking for these,’ the boy replied, extracting the small black packet.

‘Condoms? What d’you need those for?’ The answer to that, Apollo had to admit, was obvious, and he was not surprised when Eros did not reply. ‘You’re only fifteen,’ he told his nephew weakly.

Eros gave him a look as old as the world. ‘Am I? Then I’ve been fifteen for a long time, and Ganymede won’t be eighteen forever.’

‘Alright, take ‘em then,’ Apollo shrugged, ‘It’s not as if I’m going to need them myself,’ he added under his breath.

Eros pocketed his quarry and got up.

‘What made you choose my bag?’ Apollo asked him, ‘I take it it wasn’t the last place you searched?’

Eros shook his head, grinning. ‘Hera says the only difference between you and granddad is that you don’t bring home bastards all the time.’

Another comparison to his father. This was fast becoming a theme.

‘Anyway, thanks Apollo.’ Eros paused in the doorway. ‘You want I should use my arrows on Hermes? I could.’

Apollo smiled. But it was tempting only for a moment. ‘No. It wouldn’t be the same. But thanks.’

After Eros had skipped off to uphold family tradition, Apollo was at a loss what to do. He lay on his bed for a while trying to read the latest issue of the Journal of Mythology. He usually liked to keep up with what the world thought about him and his family, but he couldn’t concentrate. He kept thinking about Hermes. There had been a time when he’d resented him, his upstart little brother. Hermes the trickster, the liar, the thief. Hermes who had first stolen his property and now his heart. Hermes the changeable who had changed him.

Deciding that, after all, his misery needed company, Apollo went downstairs again in search of some. The house seemed curiously empty. Only Artemis and Athena were in the living room, while Dionysos and Hermes were in the den, watching a dumb game show with a bottle of bourbon between them on the couch. Apollo stayed long enough only to have himself poured a generous measure and then went and joined his sisters. They were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, their legs stretched out alongside each other, and they were sharing a bottle of wine. While they were friendly enough, and happy to provide him with more alcohol when he had finished his drink, somehow he felt that their conversation of intimate half-sentences excluded him. ‘Where is everybody?’ he asked finally.

‘Ares is in Aphrodite’s room,’ Artemis said.

‘So’s Aphrodite,’ Athena added, as if clarification was needed. ‘Slut.’

‘Oh, don’t be so disapproving!’ Artemis cried, tickling her sister with her toes. And Athena – Athena! – laughed and said, ‘Well, each to her own, I guess.’

‘Hermes and Dionysos are next-door,’ Artemis continued her catalogue of relatives, ‘Poseidon and Amphitrite are in their room. Oh, and Hera has seduced father.’

Apollo nearly choked on his wine. ‘She’s what?’

‘Exercising her power, I assume,’ Artemis said, apparently unconcerned, ‘Making sure he stays on her side.

‘He’d better,’ Athena said. The sisters resumed their conversation. Apollo thought he recognized the signs of another imminent seduction, and decided there was nothing for it but join his brothers in getting drunk. He was hard on his way already.

‘You know about Hera and Zeus?’ he asked, rejoining his brothers and the bottle in the den.

‘Yeah, man,’ Dionysos said, splashing more bourbon into his glass, ‘Everyone’s at it tonight. Ares and Aphrodite. Artemis and Athena, or they will be soon.’

‘Eros and Ganymede, too,’ Apollo said morosely, sinking down on the couch next to Hermes. He was already drunker than he’d thought – soon sex would no longer be a practical possibility.

‘They’re all being led by their dicks – or their snatches,’ Hermes said, slightly slurred. ‘You’ll see. Tomorrow Ares’ll suddenly be on your side, and Zeus will be all for Hera’s plans.’

He was probably right, Apollo reflected, emptying his glass. They were silent for a while. Then the ramifications of Hermes’ last remark sank in, and a lucid thought managed to take hold of Apollo’s mind through the general befuddlement. He turned to Hermes so fast it made him briefly dizzy. ‘You think I’m trying to convince you by getting off with you? Is that why you don’t…?’

‘Well, aren’t you?’ Hermes countered, ‘This whole family uses sex as a bargaining chip.’

‘I don’t,’ Apollo protested. ‘I don’t want sex, I just want to make love to you.’ Even drunk, he recognized that that was not a happy sentence.

But Hermes wasn’t interested in his protestations. ‘Do we have to watch this shit?’ he asked Dionysos, who obediently handed him the remote control.

‘I’m going to see if there’s more where this came from,’ Dionysos announced, waving the empty bottle. Hermes flicked through the channels, never pausing long enough to see if anything was worth watching. Apollo sat, not watching the screen. He only noticed the TV when the channel-hopping suddenly ceased, and it insisted on showing him a device that would help him sweep under couches. The remote control had fallen to the floor, and Hermes was asleep, his head hanging sideways at what looked a very uncomfortable angle. With some difficulty, Apollo managed to get up, lift Hermes’ legs onto the couch and tuck a cushion under his head. Throughout this maneuver, Hermes snored faintly. Apollo turned off the television. If Dionysos had found more to drink, he wasn’t coming back to share. Apollo stood for a moment, looking down at Hermes with maudlin tenderness, and then staggered upstairs, to bed.

When the sun rose the next morning, Apollo opened his eyes long enough only to register that he was still alone in his bed, and to realize that he was going to have one hell of a hangover. He wasn’t the only one. When he came downstairs a few hours of fitful sleep later, he was met with several very bleary faces.

‘Apollo, thank the stars,’ Athena said, ‘Headaches all around.’ She gestured at Artemis and Hermes, sitting at the kitchen table nursing cups of coffee.

‘Just a minute, let me get some caffeine myself. And a hangover isn’t really an illness, you know. It won’t go away entirely.’

‘Never mind that, just hurry up, will you?’ Ares said, coming in, also bleary but otherwise looking very pleased with himself. So Apollo downed his coffee and spent some time laying on hands like a dubious faith healer. He did manage to relieve the headaches, he was the god of healing, when all was said and done. And after Athena had laid her cool hand against his forehead, he even felt a little better himself. But no one was inclined to be very active or talkative that morning. Family members appeared to eat a half-hearted breakfast, disappeared to take baths or showers, reappeared with suggestions for drives or walks which no one had the energy to take up. Apollo spent most of the time moodily watching Hermes, wondering whether his brother remembered last night’s drunken conversation. Hermes was transmitting infuriatingly contradictory signals. He seemed to avoid being alone with Apollo, or getting into anything more than superficial talk. But when he found him lounging next to Artemis on the lawn, enjoying the sun, Hermes did nothing to stop Apollo stroking his smooth back under his shirt. They were talking about Helen again. Artemis was still trying to convince Hermes that their sister had made her own choice.

‘It will sort itself out, you know,’ Apollo said, joining in their argument.

Hermes flipped over onto his back, batting Apollo’s hand away and raising himself on his elbows. ‘It will sort itself out? You always think you can keep yourself apart, don’t you? You make out it’s for Helen’s own good, but it’s the easiest way, isn’t it? Where you have to do nothing.’

Apollo felt that that wasn’t fair, even if there was a grain of truth in it. ‘I never said we shouldn’t do anything. You don’t listen. I think we should find out. Go to Troy, talk to Helen. Stop acting on assumptions.’

‘Oh,’ Hermes said, backing down, ‘That might be a good idea.’

‘I’ll go to Troy,’ Artemis offered, ‘I’ve been there before. We’ll soon know what it’s really like.’

But Apollo knew that the rift in the family would not close so easily. Hermes and Artemis might be reconciled, but others would need more forceful arguments. He went indoors apprehensively when Hera called them all together for lunch. She had been in a very good mood all morning, and Zeus was constantly by her side. When they were all seated, but before they ate, Hera asked for a moment of their attention.

‘I have decided,’ she said, with the full authority of her divinity, ‘We shall go to Troy together, we shall–’

But before she could make her plans more specific, Artemis shoved back her chair. ‘I won’t be party to this.’ She got up and left without a backward glance.

Apollo knew what he had to do. He too got up, but lingered just outside the door to see what would happen next. Hera tried to ignore their departure and continued speaking of the punishment she would mete out to the Iliades for taking her stepdaughter. Aphrodite rose, and Ares followed suit when she beckoned him with a look. Eros and Ganymede got up quietly. Dionysos stumbled to his feet and went out. Finally, reluctantly, Hermes laid down the napkin he had been playing with and, looking at his remaining relatives with regret, was the last to leave.

In the kitchen, the rebel faction congregated around the fridge, trying to scrape together some sort of lunch. ‘I’m leaving right now,’ Artemis said, ‘I’m going to Troy and talk to Helen, before Hera puts her absurd plans into action.’

‘You’ll let us know won’t you? When you’ve spoken to her?’ Aphrodite urged.

‘Of course. And I’ll let Hera know, make sure she realizes how ridiculously old-fashioned she’s being.’

‘Well, I guess I’d better pack. It won’t be much fun, staying here after this,’ Aphrodite said.

Eros, meanwhile, had something else on his mind. ‘Mom, can Ganymede come with us? I was going to stay with grandma and granddad for a while, but now…’

Aphrodite smiled her sweetest smile at Ganymede. ‘Of course. Ever been to LA, young man? No? You’ll like it.’

Ganymede looked suitably dumbfounded at this change in his fortunes, but not, Apollo noted, with that look of abject slavery that Aphrodite usually caused in young men. Which was just as well, given the situation. The three of them went upstairs to get their things. Ares grunted something about ‘better be going’ and followed. Dionysos, sitting at the kitchen table, took the bottle of chilled white from his lips and focused unexpectedly on Apollo, ‘Bad vibes, this weekend. I guess I’ll hit the road.’

The words ‘hit’ and ‘road’ combined in one sentence by Dionysos conjured up alarming images. Apollo tried to ignore them and decided there was nothing to do now except pack. In the bedroom he found Ares just zipping up his bag. He and Hermes gathered their things in silence, the ominous decisions of lunchtime weighing on them, keeping their spirits down. Apollo knew how it would go from now on. Hera and Artemis would both pursue their plans, both accuse the other of interfering. Hera would employ Zeus like so much heavy artillery, and Artemis would strike back with all the moral weight she could squeeze out of him and Hermes. Apollo knew he was mixing his metaphors and didn’t care. This disagreement would reverberate for a long, long time and there was no way he could extract himself from it. Sometimes he really hated being the god of prophecy. He had his stuff now, and there was nothing left to say except goodbye. He took his leave, stiffly, from Hera and his father, and said goodbye to Athena with something like regret. He punched Eros’ shoulder and shook Ganymede’s hand. He waved as Ares roared off in his battered pick-up. He embraced Aphrodite and Artemis. Hermes was standing by his car, the door already open. ‘It was good to see you,’ Apollo said, cursing himself for the banality of the phrase.

They held each other for a moment, and kissed, simply and affectionately. ‘You must come and see me,’ Hermes said, equally uninspired.

‘Sure,’ Apollo replied, patting his arm. Suddenly he was eager to leave, get away from Mount Olympus as fast as he could. He got into his hired car and backed out of the drive with a feeling of relief.

But the relief did not last. As he drove to the airport, it was replaced by a bitter mixture of shame and regret. They had made such a mess of this weekend. And it all made no difference anyway, the old order just rolled on. He thumped the steering wheel in frustration. They were such a sorry excuse for a family. Playing at being human. Like Hermes, when they’d said goodbye: ‘Come and see me’. They always said things like that. ‘Come and visit’, ‘Let’s have lunch’, ‘We’ll keep in touch’. They never did. He had never seen Hermes’ Manhattan apartment, and Hermes had never been to San Francisco. They would see each other only at funerals, if gods had funerals. Nothing ever changed. Soon he would be home, with the friends who could never really know him, and everything would always be the same.

Apollo returned his car to the hire company and wandered around the airport. His flight didn’t leave for two hours, and there was nothing to do but kill time. He browsed listlessly through the magazines at a newsstand. Then he walked up to one of the information desks, the printout with the number of his return ticket to San Francisco already in his hand, and surprised himself by asking, ‘When’s the next flight to New York?’

The friendly woman behind the desk informed him that there was a flight within the hour. Yes, there were free seats, and his ticket could be converted. Could she have his credit card please? And could he sign here? Check-in started at 15.45 hours.

All at once, Apollo felt unreasonably elated. He looked at his watch. There was just time to run into a drugstore and replace what he had given to Eros.