“If you say so.”
Cass flashed Nero a wink, reminding him of their shared past, as if Nero could forget. And he didn’t want to forget. His mind drifted to a dull winter morning a few weeks ago, when he’d found himself in Hackney, staring at the new-build block of maisonettes that had replaced the house he’d burned down. The sight of it had nearly brought him to his knees, but Lenny had pulled him back. Lenny always pulled him back.
The night went on. Drinks flowed, camaraderie and friendship solidified. It was the early hours of the morning by the time things quieted enough for Nero to drag Lenny outside to show him the real reason he’d let Cass talk him into the party.
“Where are we going?” Lenny stumbled tipsily behind Nero, swigging from a bottle of vodka, and clutching a bowl of Hackney-brown-biscuit ice cream. “You taking me down the garden for a quickie?”
The idea was tempting, but for once there was something far more pressing than fucking around. Nero led Lenny to the garage at the bottom of the garden and unlocked the sliding doors. “Are you ready for your present?”
Lenny shoved the last of his ice cream in his beautiful mouth. “Not a lawn mower, is it?”
“Not quite. Close your eyes.” Lenny obeyed while Nero turned the lights on in the garage and dragged the dustsheets off the present he hoped would make Lenny smile that blinding smile Nero liked to pretend was just for him. “Okay, you can open them.”
Lenny opened his eyes. Blinked. Opened them again. “What the fuck? Oh my God, is this . . . Shit, it can’t be. Is this that rusty old bus you found in Vauxhall?”
“The very same.” Nero grinned hard enough make his face ache and gestured with both arms to the once-dilapidated bus that was now a shiny, refurbished mobile kitchen. “Me and Tom struck a deal. He funded the conversion on the condition that we—me and you—make it pay by showing the world what Urban Soul’s about.”
Lenny moved closer, apparently transfixed by the crazy unicorn-themed logo Jake had taken from Lenny’s rough designs all those months ago, and painted on the bonnet. “The Urban Vegan?”
“Yup. Fancied a challenge. Up for it?”
“You’re not giving up meat.”
It wasn’t a question, but Nero shook his head anyway. “Fuck no, but Tom wants to save the world, and I don’t mind helping him.”
“You like helping him.”
If you say so. Nero just smiled. “Cass wants us to take it to some festivals this summer, if we can get organised in time. The bus is good to go, we just need a menu . . . and I’ll need you to help me cook.”
“Cook? At a bunch of hippie festivals? Fuck yeah. This is the best present ever.”
“Seriously?” Nero dangled the keys for Lenny to snatch. “I was kinda worried it was a bit like buying your wife a Hoover.”
“It’s perfect . . . and it’s fucking green. I love it!”
Lenny unlocked the passenger door and climbed in. Nero followed him and shoved him over to the driver’s side. “I ain’t suggesting you take it for a spin now, but you’re insured to drive it home in the morning.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Sorted it this afternoon.”
“Wow.” Lenny put his hands on the steering wheel. “What gear have we got in the back?”
“A flat grill, a fryer . . . a bread oven. A gas hob we can boil with. It’s small, but we can make it work.”
“We can make anything work, can’t we?”
The double meaning wasn’t lost on Nero. He leaned across and scooped Lenny into the kind of embrace that Lenny would be lucky to escape from intact. “I love you.”
Lenny didn’t say it back. Didn’t need to. His fingers tangled in the leather cord around Nero’s neck said enough.
Nero absorbed the moment, and then drew back a little, inclining his head at the driver’s-side sun visor. “Pull that down. Jake said he left something in it for you.”
Lenny flipped the sun visor. An envelope fell into his lap. He opened it and peered inside, retrieving another smaller envelope. “What’s this?”
Nero shrugged. “No idea.”
“Liar.”
