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Gerald stared across the table, lost in thought. He knew that he ought to be celebrating his fiancée really, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wasn't quite sure why he was unhappy with the engagement. Sheila was a lovely girl, and this marriage would clearly be beneficial for their fathers and the buisness. If this was the case, then why did he feel so... empty.
He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts, chestnut curls flopping over his face. "Absolutely first class!" He said cheerfully in reply to some comment Mr Birling had made. The polite conversation continued, with Gerald playing his role perfectly. The way he was adding towards his future father in law confused him slightly, why should he care so much about trying to impress him? The engagement was final, no matter how he felt about it. Glancing across the table, he spotted Sheila, who had adopted a playful pout.
"Yes, except for last summer when you never came near me and I wondered what had happened to you."
Gerald felt himself stiffen. How could he go through with the marriage? With everything that had happened last summer, the guilt would eat him up alive. Donning a false, cherry persona, he felt his heart drop slightly in his chest as he spoke.
"And I've told you-i was awfully busy at the works all that time." Sheila was playful in her reply, and he could tell she had bought it. After all, what reason would she have to be suspicious of the wondrous Gerald Croft?
Gerald was snapped out of his woeful monologue by a sharp, barking laugh from Sheila's clearly intoxicated brother, Eric. A young man of his early twenties, he seemed a bright thing. The way his hazel eyes shone in the lamplight reminded him of a cats. Cunning, happy, and hiding something beneath it all. It was just the sort of thing the ladies would go for, he thought wistfully, and then scorned himself for doing so. He had a perfectly lovely future wife. He has no reason to feel this way.
Continuing to stare at the younger man, Gerald noticed the way his arms filled out his well-fitted dinner jacket. Eric clearly wasnt some soft upper-crust lily who did nothing but sit at home like his father. This was a man who knew work. Gerald found himself lost in the contours of his muscular arms, thoughts straying fitfully close to something he would never speak of. Eric's jawline was angular, it looked like it had been carefully chiseled by a Greek sculptor. There was just a shadow of stubble ghosting across it to remind Gerald that what he was looking at was not smooth marble, but instead human flesh and blood.
Sheila broke his train of confusing thought with an annoyed scoff. "You're squiffy." She sniffed at her brother, much to her mother's disapprovement. "What an expression Sheila!" Mrs birling scolded. "Really the things you girls pick up these days." Eric grinned and Gerald noticed how nice his teeth looked. They were all perfectly in a line, except for a slight chip, right at the front.
Gerald thought that it made his mouth look more interesting. Perhaps be had bitten down on something too hard as a child, or maybe a stray apple pip was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe, Gerald couldn't believe he dared to think this, maybe it had happened with a girl. He paled at the idea, confused as to why he was so opposed to it. Eric was a young, rich man like himself, surely he had engaged in some of the pleasures of life with the fairer sex. He certainly had, although he didn't really see what all the fuss was about. If this was the case, then why didn't Gerald like the idea of Eric engaging in such activities. It made no sense. Why did he care? He supposed he was just feeling protective of his future brother in law. Yes. That would be it.
Eric continued to grin slyly. "If that's the best you think she can do-" he started, but was cut off by Sheila. "Don't be an ass Eric." Eric rolled his eyes, his features morphing into annoyance."now stop it you two." Mrs birling scoffed. "Arthur, what about this famous toast of yours?"