The next day, Aleksey decided to attempt the walk to and from the cottage. It would take most of the day, but as Ben was away with Squeezy on one of their charity fundraising meetings, and Tim had gone to Bristol to visit his parents to tell them the news and no doubt take them many photographs of mezzanines and brocade, it seemed like something he could take his time over and really test out his return to health and fitness. As he, obviously, had a key to the farm, he planned to take a nice midday break for some lunch with the dogs in peace and quiet. Family parties and birthdays were all very well, but they were exhausting. Well, it was either that or two nights of thank-you-for-my-present sex with Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen…
The walk was getting pretty familiar now. He had his two odd, skittish companions with him, one of whom still wouldn’t go through the hollow, and the other who pressed firmly to his legs at certain places and wouldn’t budge. Aleksey could only assume he was the one missing something and the dogs were probably thinkingfucking hell, you seriously can’t see that? He really didn’t want to know. He was entirely happy with Dartmoor the way it was. The day was superbly warm, a kind of heat that made the air shimmer in the valleys. The streams were low, just trickles over stones, many yards away from the deep banks they could scour down after a spring torrent. Even the granite rocks seem to exude warmth to the air. They took their time; there was no hurry, the dogs loving the water, frolicking as much as slurping, so they did not come to the old farmhouse until well past lunchtime. Aleksey was pleasantly hungry and hoped the fridge raid he planned would prove fruitful.
Just as he was emerging from the tree-covered valley that led up to the tor, he noticed movement. When he got a little higher, he could see a man sitting in the sun on the patio furniture. His attention had been caught by a small dog which was sniffing around the cobbles.
The man watched their approach impassively and only spoke when they were up to the gate, indicating to his dog. ‘Are those two going to be all right with Snodgrass?’
Not liking the proprietary implication in the question, Aleksey opted for challenge. ‘Who are you?’ He didn’t see it was any ofSnodgrass’sor his owner’s business what his dogs thought or didn’t think. On their property. Ex-property.
The man stood up. Snodgrass solved the potential dog issue by worming his way under the teak chair and curling up, as if rough cobbles were the most comfortable basket in the world. Aleksey fired Radulf a caustic lip twitch at this example of how dogs should behave, but got a snarkier one back.
When they got closer, the man held out his hand. ‘Harry. We’re friends of Michael’s.’
This was a surprise. Aleksey wasn’t aware the moron had any friends.
He shook the rough, calloused hand. ‘Then you have missed him.’
‘Oh, aye, we know. We’d thought we’d just come over and see the place. Heard a bit about it.’
The dogs had sniffed Snodgrass and were now snuffling around where he’d been nosing, so all seemed well. He sat down opposite the dog, and the other man resumed his seat.
After a few minutes, Aleksey realised his silence tactic wasn’t working all that well, so was forced to ask, ‘Have you known Michael long?’
He got a nod. Then perhaps at the annoyed frustration in his expression, Harry added, ‘We met many years in the past, but reconnected again a few months ago.’
It was hard to gauge the man’s age. He was possibly in his seventies, although he was tanned and creased, as if he’d been in a hot country for many years, so could have been younger. His hair, what there was of it, was shorn to a buzz and entirely grey. He seemed an unlikely friend for the moron, in Aleksey’s opinion, as he had a wise, calm expression in his eyes, and a tone of voice that belied any notion that he might have anything in common with such a powerhouse of meaningless inanity.
‘I’m sorry, can I offer you anything? I’m going to make some tea.’
He got no response except a grave nod, but then Harry drew his gaze from the moors, turned his deep brown eyes on Aleksey, and spoke as if he’d been asked a different question entirely. ‘Yes, he has told me much of you, Mr Rider-Mikkelsen.’
A little floored, Aleksey was about to ask the obvious, but Harry forestalled this by adding, ‘Your dogs. They were mentioned too—a bit of a giveaway as to your identity. I have heard many stories of that elderly, whiskery chap.’
‘Good or bad?’
The man chuckled. ‘Mainly good. But Michael always did tell a tall tale, so I don’t necessarily believe the bad. But itiswhy I enquired first.DaddyBarkis preceded by his own reputation.’
‘Mostly exaggerated.’
‘Ah, well, that was my conclusion about the stories concerning you, too.’
Knowing Radulf’s secret Op Fucking Cold nickname cemented him as a relatively truthful man—he clearly did know Squeezy. ‘Come in, and I’ll make the tea.’
‘Ah, we’ll stay out here, if that’s all right with you.’
Aleksey particularly liked the way the older man spoke for his dog. It reminded him of someone.
‘Have you met Tim, Michael’s partner?’
‘No. He was the main reason we came when everyone would be out. I have…issues.’
Aleksey stood abruptly and let himself into the cottage.
He leaned on the kitchen island for a moment, then went and put the kettle on. It had been a while since anyone had challenged him on his life choices, and it annoyed him how much it rankled even now. It was one of the main reasons why it had taken him so long to admit that he did love another man. It was expressly the reason why he’d been Ben’s age before he’d even dared to ask another man that question—what would you give it all up for? Would you do that for me? He made two mugs of tea, taking the moral high ground, and rummaged for some biscuits.
When he emerged back into the warm Dartmoor sunshine, Harry was on his feet. He face was creased with distress and, despite being over six foot and rangy, he suddenly appeared incredibly fragile. ‘I do apologise, Mr Rider-Mikkelsen. I fear you misunderstood me. I have issues with being inside small places. Well, buildings at all, I suppose. I thought if Dr Watson were here, he would naturally invite me in. It would be so rude of me if I had to refuse. I…get overwhelmed. I…it’s all darkness and great swells in my head, and I feel like I’m drowning. I’m so sorry I offended you.’
Aleksey wrinkled his nose and offered the tea. Harry actually smiled when he gave each dog their own digestive.
