There was a knock on the door and he ignored it. But it continued and eventually, Newt came in anyway. River pretended to be asleep until he left. Pretended until hedidfall asleep.
When he next opened his eyes, it was dusk. He seemed to spend most of his time sleeping. Sometimes, the dark part of his mind was sorry when he woke up.
“Han… Hh… Stii…Hmm.”Shit.No miracle then.
He rolled over and saw Newt sitting on the chair, his phone in his hand. His heart jumped in his chest.
“You need to come downstairs. You won’t sleep tonight if you keep napping during the day.”
“Fuck…off.”
“Come down and have something to eat.”
“Fuck off.”
River didn’t sleep well at night. But he couldn’t stop himself falling asleep in the daytime. He pushed himself to a sitting position, struggling a little, and wished he hadn’t made such a meal of it, but one side of his body was a lot weaker than the other.
“Shall we start again?” Newt asked. “I know you don’t want me here but you do need help and I can help you.”
“Fuck…off.”With your fucking perfect body and fucking perfect speech. You have no fucking idea what my fucking life is like. Go a-fucking-way!
Newt smiled and River wanted to hit him. Lucky for Newt there was nothing to hand. A pillow wouldn’t cut it.
“Max said you have some comprehension but I don’t know how much you understand. Hold up your hand if you don’t follow what I’m saying.”
River put up his middle finger.
Newt laughed. He had a nice laugh. His whole face lit up. He had fucking dimples.Fucking shitting hell!
River pushed himself off the bed, half-staggered over to Newt and yanked on his arm. When Newt stood, River tugged him towards the door. He knew Newt was letting him, thatNewt wouldn’t have to make much effort to stand his ground, and that made River even more incensed. He found a burst of energy from somewhere, opened the door, shoved Newt through it and slammed it again. Then crumpled silently to the floor with his chest heaving.
“Don’t give in,” Newt said through the door. “Fighting is good. Keep fighting. But just to let you know, I’m going to win.”
River narrowed his eyes.No, you’re fucking not.
~~~
Newt sucked in his cheeks as he walked downstairs. Hehadto win at this. He’d been warned that River was difficult. Now he needed to come up with a strategy on how to handle him, or he’d have no job.
He hadn’t yet had a good look around the house. He’d been nervous about leaving River, so he’d sat in River’s room and looked uphow to handle people reluctant to engage in therapy.Then kept modifying the searches until he found what he was looking for. It had given him a few ideas but at that moment, River had wanted him gone, so Newt had let him push him out.
The first door he opened downstairs was to a study. It had a large window overlooking the back garden, but it was too dark to see much outside. There was a desk and a computer he assumed River couldn’t use. Two walls had built-in shelves full of books River couldn’t read. There was also a section with bound scripts. Newt helped himself to a book calledObsessionand put it on his bag in the hall before he continued exploring. He found a formal dining room with a round glass table supported by a twisted, bleached tree trunk. It seated eight and Newt wondered if it had ever been used.Next to it was another living room. Why were there two?
At the other end of the house was a laundry room twice as big as any room Newt had ever slept in, a well-equipped gym and the next door led to the pool. The lights came on as he walked in. A wall of glass on one side looked out onto the garden and there was glass overhead too. Maybe the roof retracted in the summer. The pool looked amazing.
Newt knelt down and felt the water. He almost hoped it would be cold so he wasn’t tempted, but it was super warm. There was no one around. Well, apart from River and by now he’d probably be fast asleep again. He supposed people could stare in through the windows, but since the garden was completely private… Newt stripped down to his boxers.
The bruises from the collision with the bike were a little alarming, as was the distinct heel print on his stomach. Apart from the multi-coloured bruises, he looked thin and pale. There had been gyms in the YOI and prison, but he’d never used them. Instead, he’d done exercises in his cell: push ups, squats, sit ups, running on the spot, shadow boxing.
It was hard to believe what happened that morning. He was lucky he’d not broken any bones. It had been reckless, leaping at the bike. Then again, maybe not so reckless. Look what it had led to. Look where he was living. He stared at the pool. Never in his dreams could he have imagined a job like this. He hadn’t seen his bedroom yet, but he knew it would be lovely.
Newt twisted the waistband of his boxers in his fingers. He’d never felt safe naked. Not as a child when Sean used to flick his backside with some item of clothing, or when his father used to tease him about the size of his cock. Not when he was locked up in the YOI or prison. Not in the hostel. It always felt as if he was inviting trouble when he took hisclothes off, so he showered only long enough to get clean. He never lingered. He didn’t need to have that mindset now, though he still felt a little uneasy.
He sat on the side of the pool and dangled his feet in the water. No one had ever touched him in the wrong way, though that wasn’t true of some of the looks he’d got. Invitational, threatening, leering. He’d done everything he could to make sure no one realised he liked men. Not that being straight would have saved him if one of the bigger guys had decided he liked the look of him. Those sorts of men didn’t care whether or not the guy they’d selected to give them blow jobs or take their cock in their arse was gay. He’d never seen anyone being forced but he doubted saying no was an option.
Newt stood up and went to get a blue-striped towel from a neatly rolled stack on a shelf. He dropped it next to his clothes, then took off his boxers. Time to stop worrying. He didn’t bother with the steps but just slid into the water, groaning with pleasure.Oh God.So warm. Like a big bath.He’d not had a bath for over seven years. The pool was shallow enough for him to stand with his head out of the water, so if it turned out he couldn’t remember how to swim, he wouldn’t drown.
Swimming turned out to be like riding a bike or—hopefully—driving a car. Once it was learnt, you retained enough in your head to manage the activity, something called procedural memory. He’d learnt about that on his course. It was a type of unconscious, long-term memory, where you could recollect something without having to think. Pity that didn’t work for River’s speech and reading. Though it made him wonder if River had ever watched his own films. Would he remember the script? It was worth trying. Or they could trysinging songs River knew?
