“It can still be arranged. Brix reckons it won’t be long before he fills the barn again.”
John shot Calum a dark look and straightened his ancient flat cap on his head, and as he left, the impression that Calum’s attempt at humour had been taken rather too seriously lingered, though didn’t unsettle Calum as much as it probably should have.
Been around Lusmoores too long. Hah. If only that were true. Calum could spend a lifetime with Brix and it wouldn’t be enough.
With Brix on his mind, Calum abandoned his plans to catch up on some sketching and spent the next couple of hours rounding up the hens they’d been forced to foster out around the town when they’d brought a few hundred too many home. Then, with that done and the hens settled, he ditched the van and walked to Blood Rush, drawn to Brix like the afternoon they’d spent apart had been a year.
Brix was tattooing when Calum arrived, head down, tongue caught between his teeth. Were it not for his longer hair and new geometric knuckle tattoos, they could’ve been in Camden a decade ago. His face is just the same. But was it? From time to time Calum found himself tracking the blacker emotions that flickered in Brix’s eyes, and wondering if they’d always been there.
He was tidying up some admin on the computer—a task Brix still loathed—when Brix came to find him a little while later.
“I missed you.”
Calum grinned. “I missed you too. Spending the day with your dad ain’t the same.”
“Did you finish the fences?”
“And then some.”
Brix cocked his head to one side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll see. Are you ready to go?”
“In a sec. I just need to order some more Truvada before I forget. There’s no customers here, right?”
Calum shook his head as familiar pain lanced his heart. Would it always be like this? Clandestine phone calls to a clinic that no one outside the hidden circle of local HIV care knew about? Calum gazed out of the window as Brix placed his call, recalling the pride in John Lusmoore every time he spoke of Brix, and the warmth in his aunt Peg whenever Calum saw them together. Would that change if they found out? Calum couldn’t imagine anyone having anything but love for Brix, whoever they were.
“Will you ever tell your dad?” he asked when Brix had hung up the phone.
Brix kept his eyes on the computer screen as he carefully inputted his last client’s next appointment. “A year ago I’d have said hell no, but I’m warming to the idea. Telling Lee went okay, Kim too, and I feel better knowing you have someone to talk to about it who isn’t as nutso as me.”
“You’re not nutso, mate, especially if you’re comparing yourself to Lee. You know she got arrested last night, right? For fighting in town?”
Brix scowled. “I reckon she was hoping I wouldn’t find out.”
Calum could believe that. He and Lee were the best of friends, but she looked up to Brix like a brother, and disappointing him was one of her biggest fears. “I don’t think she meant to hurt the bloke, if it’s any consolation.”
“Should it be?” Brix shut the computer down. “If she can’t defend herself, who will?”
“Us?”
Brix rolled his eyes. “That would mean skanking out at the Slug and Lettuce, and as much as I love you all, I ain’t doing that for nobody.”
“That’s not fair.” Calum pulled Brix close and grazed his cheek with the lightest kiss. “I’d walk over hot coals for you, and you won’t set foot in a dirty Wetherspoons for me?”
“Not a hope in hell. I would, however, die a thousand times over for you, so I think we’re even.”
Calum thought so too. “Are you ready to go?”
“I’m always ready for you, mate.”
The innuendo made Calum hot all over, but for once, sex could wait, because nothing mattered more than simply taking Brix home.
They drifted to the cottage, walking side by side, as close as they could be without holding hands. Brix said little, and Calum held his tongue, knowing that Brix often needed a few quiet moments to process whatever was going on in his convoluted brain.
Back at the cottage, Brix was distracted enough not to notice the new enclosure was stuffed full of hens straightaway. He stared blankly at the wooden structure, and then his eyes widened. “You finished it? Jesus, I thought you’d take another few days at least.”
“So did I, but your old man cracked the whip and we got it done. Forty-six happy hens right there.”
