They walked slowly along the paths of the park, Radulf off his lead, busy with his own concerns. Occasionally, their hands brushed, and Ben wondered whether either of them would ever progress far enough to be able to hold hands in public. Nikolas appeared to read his thoughts for he plunged his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gave Ben a small contrite smile. “There are many things to arrange before I leave.”
Ben nodded glumly.
“I don’t want you to stay at the apartment. Too much temptation for one so young.”
Ben gave him a look. Nikolas amended with a smirk, “I have a new tenant. Exceptional references. Friend of my wife’s, actually.”
“Ex-wife.”
“Huh. Yes. Even better. Anyway, I couldn’t turn down an extra £33,000. I’m having it put into your account so you’ll have money while I’m away.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? That’s almost more money than I was making in the army.”
Nikolas stopped and turned to him. “A week, Ben. That’s theweeklyrental.”
Ben paled. They continued walking. After a few minutes, Ben nudged him. “Don’t hurry back too fast then, ’k?”
Nikolas laughed softly. “What else? The damage to the house will be repaired soon. Move back in there. I can’t vouch for the smell, but you shouldn’t set fire to people, it’s a hard smell to get out of the walls. We’ll buy you your bike before I go. I’d like to see you?” He stopped and took a breath.
Ben slipped his hand into the back pocket of Nikolas’s jeans. Nikolas didn’t object. “I’ll be fine. Few months. It’ll be like when I was on an op, yeah? Only now it’s you gone and me waiting. I don’t want to ask, but when are you leaving?”
“The day after tomorrow. It’s arranged.”
“Will you be able to keep in touch?”
“I think telephone communications have reached Russia, but I’ll check before I leave.”
“Well, that’s that then.”
Nikolas nodded. “If you need anything, Philipa would help you, despite all that’s happened. She’s genuinely fond of you. Keep in touch with Kate. But not too much touch, maybe. And…that’s understood between us, yes?” He turned, dislodging Ben’s hand. “Touch. We agree now. We don’t?I?Other people.Either of us.”
Ben didn’t even look around to see if they were observed. He leant across and kissed Nik to silence him then said distinctly, “You don’t need to ask, Nik. Yes, we understand each other.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Nikolas was gone before Ben really had time to process he was going.
They bought the bike together.
They tried to fit months into the hours they had remaining, and then a taxi came, and Nikolas left.
Ben returned to the house and wheeled his new bike into the kitchen. He and Radulf sat looking at it for quite a while.
Ben went upstairs but couldn’t face the empty bedroom with the empty bed.
He didn’t want to stay in the house at all. He’d expected a sense of loss, of dislocation, but he’d never expected it to be this bad. He began to realise just how much of his life he’d subsumed under Nikolas’s. Other than a few clothes and now his new bike, he had nothing.
He was entirely hollow.
He walked from room to room. The bedroom Nikolas had been sleeping in made him smile weakly, remembering all the many ways Nik had thought up to punish him for his faithlessness. Nikolas could be surprisingly inventive when it came to punishments.
With a sigh, he went into the office. Here the damage was the most extensive. He picked up some of the papers on the floor and put them back on the desk. One had been defaced. Ben smiled sadly. It was odd to think of Nikolas in the study, idly doodling on the newspaper. He wished he could understand what he’d written.
There was nothing he wanted to take, so he returned to the kitchen. He was staring at Radulf, thinking, when he knew with utter certainty exactly what he wanted to do. He grinned at the dog. Radulf banged his tail on the ground. He liked the plan a lot, and he didn’t even know what it was yet.
§ § §
Having money was something of a novelty to Ben. He’d always been reluctant to spend the insurance money he’d received from the fire at his cottage, but now that his account was to be topped up so extensively every week, he reckoned he was safe to splash out a little. He’d learnt some things being with Nikolas for four years, some of them not suitable to put into action in daylight (or on his own, come to that), but most had to do with confidence, with projecting to others you were something not as you really were. He thought he knew pretty well now who the man who called himself Nikolas Mikkelsen really was, and he’d seen how this man of contradiction and conflict turned himself into the Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen other people were allowed to see.
