The Closet Posho

You won’t find Charlie Thompson amongst the pages of Debrett’s Peerage, unless you look especially hard. Thanks to ChatGPT, though, inquisitive researchers can stumble on his name (though inconspicuous enough) bracketed with illustrious, even aristocratic families. His ancestry is not his fault, as he frequently tells himself. Just because a great-grandmother was an Earl’s daughter doesn’t make him a toff. Even so, he lives in perpetual anxiety of being found out.  

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His colleagues at the large media firm, where he’s worked for 20 years, spend more time bashing ‘posh twats’ and ‘nepo babies’ than he’s entirely comfortable with. After one such discussion, Charlie bleated that the only time his father got anywhere near the media was when he read the Racing Post, but the joke fell flat. When a friend of a friend posted some pictures from Tatler, in which he featured with his arm around a marquess, he watched in horror as droves of internet Marxists called for revolution in the comments underneath. Fortunately, Charlie was wearing large pink sunglasses, and the caption spelled his name Thomson.  Charlie, whose London-tinged accent........

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