Adam and Udo leapt to their feet.
“Is he okay?” Adam asked.
Goran shook his head. “He’s early,” he said, clearly fighting the tears. “They’ve taken him away to put him in an incubator. When they finish sewing Paloma up, we’re going down there.”
“Shit,” Udo said.
“Yeah. Shit.”
By the time Udo had got home, there’d only been a couple of diehard photographers at his gate. The others no doubt filling the pockets of one of nearby pub landlords.
Oh well, I’m boosting the local economy.
His shoulders dropped when he got into the safety of his lounge. He flopped down on the sofa and inhaled deeply. Slowly he exhaled. The silence cocooning him.
Focusing on his breathing, he tried to banish the memories of the day from his mind.
It was no use. The film reel of images was far too strong.
Far too wired to sleep, there was only one thing that Udo wanted to do. It was as if he were addicted to Steven. Suddenly going into cold turkey felt brutal.
Then something occurred to him. He pulled his phone out and connected a call.
“Udo? Are you okay?”
Just hearing Steven’s voice calmed the spectres that were haunting Udo.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I needed to hear your voice.”
“We shouldn’t really.”
“Ah fuck it. We agreed not to see each other. No one said anything about talking.”
Steven didn’t reply.
“Steven?”
“I miss you.”
“I know. Me too.”
Now he had him, Udo didn’t know what to say. Without the comfort of Steven’s arms, the fix of his drug was weaker. It wasn’t enough.
“How long will this go on for?”
“Probably until the end of the season.”
“That’s only a couple of weeks,” Udo replied. “We can do that. Tell me about our holiday.”
Steven began to describe the villa they would rent for the summer. There were no international tournaments so they could spend weeks locked away from prying eyes. It made this torture bearable.
Then he focused on the deep tones of Steven as he lost himself in his plans. God he loved this man. So very much.
TWENTY-THREE
STEVEN
“Why don’t you take today off?” Javier said as he sipped his morning coffee.
