‘What’s up?’
Tim checked his watch for some reason and replied softly, ‘His cock probably. By now.’
Ben froze, chocolate digestive halfway to his mouth—a rare moment. ‘Huh?’
Tim came to the table, sitting down with a slightly precious, pinched, martyred expression. Behind him, Ben raised an eyebrow, and Aleksey gave a fraction of a shrug in reply. Then in the spirit of being a good friend, he announced brightly, ‘Well, we’ll head off to a pub then if you’re busy…’
Ben narrowed his eyes at him and sat down as well. ‘What the fuck’s going on, Tim?’
Tim was tapping his phone slightly manically and then explained in a rush, ‘He’s in town with you. Apparently. Your phone packed up, so you wanted a new one. Apparently. He drove over early this morning to hit the sales. Said he’d be all day…apparently.’ He turned his phone and showed Ben the screen. Vaguely interested in this (mainly because he was picturing the moron escaped his domestication and consequently naked, spread-eagled and tied to a bed with a stranger), he knelt up in his seat to squint at the texts as well. The first message from the imbecile had been sent at seven, a time Aleksey hadn’t realised existed, and readPretty Boy says needs new phone his broke so going to town. Want anything?Tim had replied at nineget milkand the moron had texted backk. Then two hours ago, he’d sentfussy tosser can’t decide be back late or might stay nightand Tim had not apparently replied to this yet. As if reading their minds as he took his phone back, he murmured absentmindedly,
‘I was going to tell him I’d come over as well. But he’s got the car.’ He bit his lip and offered to no one in particular, ‘When John first shagged Sebastian it was in our bed, so I guess this is a step up from that.’
Ben seemed at a loss what to say. He’d been through that break-up with his friend and being then in a slightly fragile position himself had not found it easy to accept. Aleksey settled down in the chair once more and offered thoughtfully, ‘I could walk in on you naked in the shower again if that would help.’
It raised a smile on the extremely wan face next to him. Tim adjusted his glasses. ‘He’s a good liar. I would have phoned you, Ben, obviously, except—’
‘—he said my phone was broken…’
Tim nodded glumly.
Aleksey didn’t think this wasthatgood a lie when he considered some of his but drawing a small pattern on the table, suggested, ‘Why don’t you ringhim?’
Tim dropped his phone as if it had bitten him. ‘No! I don’t want tohearhim lie.’ Aleksey caught Ben’s eye, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Ben was also remembering over forty ignored phone calls the awful night that had almost torn them apart. He sniffed, remembering that pain and pulled out his own phone, remarking affably, ‘I do,’ and tapped the necessary speed-dial number. He put it on speaker and laid it on the table between them. As it rang, Tim actually backed away, his chair falling over behind him until he grit his teeth and bravely sat back down, gripping the table for strength.
‘Yeah? Whad’ya want? I’m a bit busy.’
Aleksey couldn’t help a small feral smile at this opener as he pictured just what that industry might entail but realised Ben wasn’t impressed, so snapped, in his public tone with the moron, ‘Where are you? I want this tent thing removed from my grounds.’
‘Yeah, well, that’ll give you something to do other than wanking all day, won’t it?’
He bit his lip and tried to look censorious, realising for the first time that neither Ben nor the good professor knew that his relationship with the idiot when they were alone was very different to the one when they were all together. ‘Stop pissing around. How long will it take you to get here? Where are you?’
‘I’m with an old friend. Stopping the night. I’ll be over in the morning.’
‘Is the professor with you?’
‘Yeah, like no. If I wanted a threesome it would be with you and Pretty Boy, but you don’t share, ‘parently. Gotta go—something’s come up. Fortunately. Kiss, kiss,’ and making revolting smooching noises as he said this last, Michael Heathcote hung up.
Tim was about to rise again, but Aleksey laid a hand on his arm then actually tightened the hold when the smaller man tried to pull away. ‘Sit down!’ Tim dropped like a stone. Aleksey sent a quick text then leaned back. ‘Wait.’
‘Fuck!’ Ben got up and began to make the tea then wrenched open a cupboard and produced a bottle of whisky, slopping some into three large tumblers. ‘Fuck!’
Tim was not able to add anything to Ben’s summation of events, for he was plainly only just holding his emotions dammed behind gritted teeth and a clenched throat. Aleksey’s phone buzzed with a text, and he read it, saying as he did, ‘I do not buy any of you phones because I am a generous man.’ He frowned and added with genuine confusion, ‘Peyton says he’s on St Mary’s—or that is the tower he pinged off.’
‘What the fuck?’ Ben snatched the phone out of his hand, reading it for himself. ‘The fucker! He’s on the island without us. What’s he doing?’
Tim sat straighter. ‘Heisin our bed! Oh, my, God! He’s taken someone to Guillemot, and he’s in our bed there!’
Aleksey thought the intense little man seemed overly focused on the location of fucking someone else, rather than the act itself. He could attest to the fact that cheating could be done anywhere, anyhow—on tables, desks, in elevators, over the bonnet of a jeep—and in bed was usually the least likely place. ‘Why would he go all the way to Scilly? They’ve got excellent hotels in Exe—’ Catching Ben’s eye, he muttered, ‘I am trying to be helpful. If I was going to—for fuck’s sake! I mean is it remotely likely he’s taken someone all that way to just—when he could…’ He decided to quit while he was ahead and sat morosely staring out at the moors. Ben collected all three empty glasses and topped them up extremely generously.
‘It’s someone he’s met down there.’ Tim appeared to be trying to work through all the men his boyfriend had interacted with on the island over the six months they’d been going there. ‘He was there quite often—you know, with the Kittiwake renovations. Oh…fuck…it’s one of the builders.’
Aleksey had an immediate memory of the moron standing with the bodyguards watching the builders at The Keep. He’d only thought Squeezy was giving them particular attention as a private joke to wind up Tim Watson, because doing that was always funny. ‘But again…why go all that way when…?’ He sank back exasperated with the daggers Ben was giving him.
‘No…’ Tim was thinking deeply. ‘One of them was from there, I’m sure—Ben? After Michael, you knew them best. You tasked them to go to Kittiwake.’
Ben lowered his gaze to the glass and began to run his finger around the rim. He nodded, adding reluctantly, ‘Tresco. I think one of them had been born on Tresco. He kinda knew La Luz by reputation—really wanted to see it.’
