Cassian’s face changed, as if he hadn’t realised what this meant. ‘You canfindhim?’
‘I should think so. I bump into him now and again.’
Cassian scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands. ‘I am going to need a moment to grasp this. I’d given up, in truth. I was going to drag myself round a string of pawnshops to prove to myself I’d tried everything, but I didn’t really believe we had a chance. And now – Daizell, you are astonishing.’
‘I’m nothing of the kind. It’s pure good fortune we both happened to fuck the same man.’
‘I wouldn’t call it good, myself. Why is he your friend still?’
Daizell opened his mouth to reply, and realised there wasn’t much to say. ‘When you’ve nothing to do and you drift, and you meet the same person drifting the same sort of way . . . well, an awkward friendship is still better than nothing. He’s not a bad fellow, truly, underneath. But he was badly treated, and he passes it on to people he shouldn’t.’
‘Is it that bad, Daize? The way you live?’
He felt himself redden. ‘Oh, well. I feel lonely, sometimes, but it suits some people. I expect you’d do perfectly well in my shoes, because you’re not needy.’Needy and tiresome, Martin had said, when Daizell had attempted to suggest they try something more than drifting in and out of one another’s orbits. It still hurt.
‘You aren’t needy,’ Cassian said, which just went to show he wasn’t that acute, or that Daizell had finally learned to conceal his desperate craving for affection. It was about time he did: his parents had taught him how pointless it was, and Martin how unappealing. ‘And I don’t know about that. I have plenty of aunts and uncles and cousins. This journey is the first time I’ve done things on my own in my life.’
That explained a lot. Daizell nodded. ‘What about your parents?’
‘My mother died when I was a baby, and my father when I was six.’
‘Oh, that’s hard. I’m sorry.’
‘I wasn’t deprived of care by that,’ Cassian said. ‘The opposite, really. My father was . . . preoccupied, and quite vague, and didn’t know what to do with a small child. I don’t remember him very well, to be honest. He used to come into the nursery sometimes, and I thought he was terriblytall and grand, but mostly I remember him after. When he was dead, I mean. I remember that very clearly, because they brought me in to see him and gave me the ring from his hand and I didn’t want to put it on. It was still warm, you see, although he was dead, and it felt – well, children have fancies, don’t they?’
Daizell gaped at him. ‘Literally off his hand? Why onearth. . . ?’
Cassian, who had been looking rather lost in memory, blinked and went very red. ‘Oh, it’s a tradition. My great-grandfather’s ring, heirloom, you know. Lots of families do it.’
‘It’s demented,’ Daizell said frankly. ‘What a thing to do to a child, good Lord. And that’s the one Martin stole? Er . . . you dowantit back, do you?’
‘Yes!’
No accounting for taste. ‘Then we’ll get it back, by hook or crook.’
Cassian swallowed. ‘Thank you. But what I had intended to say was that you needn’t feel sorry for me for lacking parents. Nurse was always wonderful, and my uncle went to the greatest possible lengths to act in loco parentis, far more than my actual father would have, while the aunts – I had five – gave a non-stop commentary on how well or poorly he was doing. I have been surrounded by people who look after me all my life. If anything, I could do with a great deal less coddling. I love them all, and I am truly grateful, but sometimes it makes me want to scratch my skin off.’
Daizell blinked at the sudden snap in his voice. Cassian raised a hand, the brief expression of frustration dissolving. ‘I have no reason to complain, none in the world. But I have come to find it a little stifling, so I leapt at the chance to take this month away, as generously granted by Mr Martin,or whatever his name is. I was desperate to be myself alone, whereas you have a great deal more solitude than you want. Things are very poorly distributed.’
Daizell had snagged on ‘alone’. ‘Are you saying that you want more time on your own now? Because if—’
‘No!’ Cassian said quickly. ‘No, not at all. Your company isn’t, oh, overbearing, not in the slightest. It never is. You’re wonderfully easy. The best companion I could have asked for.’
‘Oh.’
Cassian gave him a glinting smile. ‘And full of ideas, and going to find my ring with a bit of luck, and – I think we mentioned this earlier – the best, um, you know.’
‘What was that?’
Cassian pinked. He wasn’t prone to bad language, and Daizell could see him gather his nerve. ‘The best, er, fuck of my life?’
‘You can say that whenever you like.’
Cassian looked wonderfully flustered. ‘The point is, I don’t at all want time on my own. Actually, if we could – well, keep on being with one another, I’d like that very much.’
Daizell couldn’t quite find a reply. Or, he could, but it would entirely explode Cassian’s bizarre idea that he wasn’t needy or overbearing, because what he wanted was to demand exactly what ‘being together’ meant, and precisely how long ‘keep on’ might mean. He failed to answer for long enough that Cassian’s smile wavered. ‘If you want to, I mean, once we have the ring. It’s up to you. I do realise I’m not terribly exciting—’
‘What? No. Yes. Yes, of course I’d like to carry on, but what the devil do you mean by exciting? Myfatherwas exciting. I’ve been exciting, and it’s got me expelled anddisgraced and nearly horsewhipped. And you . . .’ He groped for words. ‘It’s not even that you aren’t exciting yourself, it’s just that you do it so quietly. You quietly calm a set of panicking horses, and quietly let yourself out when you’re kidnapped, and quietly scheme to bamboozle parsons. Good God, Cass, you’re like a cool drink on a hot day. Anyone who tells you otherwise isn’t paying attention.’
