“Do you want to talk about the article?” he asked gently, his hand on my elbow. “It was cruel, and half of it was pure conjecture. You should sue.”
I shook my head. “I want it to be forgotten about.”
He nodded. “Still. I didn’t believe a word of it.” He looked over at the sofa and then turned back to me with a sly smile. “Apart from when they called you handsome.”
I reddened. “Guy …” I said after a second.
“I know, I know. Not appropriate. And, yeah, I know I asked you out …” He sighed. “But, it’s not going to happen, is it?”
“Probably not.”
“Ah, well. Anyway, not what we’re here for today.” He looked over at the sofa again. “I can’t imagine what Simon is going through right now.”
“Yeah, poor Riz.”
Guy was silent and didn’t share my sympathies for the dearly departed, but I chose to ignore that. George led Marina Holt into the room, and she politely nodded at everyone. Well, she nodded at Guy. She and Simon made eye contact, and he stood. She followed him through the kitchen, and the door outside closed with a firm click.
“What does she want?” Guy didn’t bother to mask his tone.
“Probably wants his answer on whether he’ll do a press conference with Riz’s parents,” Marion said. “She wants it done as soon as possible. She rang him twice about it yesterday.”
We all sat in silence.
After an age, I broke. “So … do the police have any leads?”
George puffed out his cheeks. “Take your pick. Politically motivated, hate crime, robbery gone wrong.”
“That awful policeman this morning asked if Riz went cursing—” Marion said.
“Cursing?” Guy mouthed at me.
“Do you mean ‘cruising’?” I asked gingerly.
“Oh, do I? I think I do, yes,” she said, going pink. “But I told them, Simon’s not into that sort of thing and he wouldn’t be with someone who was.”
I met Guy’s eyes. Yes, because all gay men told their mums about their sex lives. Nigella caught us and sent a warning look.
The silence stretched on. All of us trying not to look out the back window to see what was happening. Eventually, Marina Holt came back upstairs and glared at everyone before remembering her manners. “Good afternoon, Ihope you’re all coping under the circumstances. Guy.” She nodded at him.
“You’ve perfect timing, Marina. I must get going, and you can be my cover. Come, come,” he said and stood. He shook mine and George’s hands and then kissed Marion and Nigella on the cheek. “Tell Si that I’m sorry I couldn’t stay any longer,” he whispered to Nigella.
They took their leave – Marina clearly furious – and the shouts of the photographers briefly filled the room before the front door closed. George and Marion went into the kitchen and looked out the window, and we followed. In the back garden, Simon stood in the middle of the lawn staring out over the trees. His back to us. “Should I go?” George asked.
“Maybe we should give him a minute,” Nigella said.
Simon was rubbing his face, and I could see how tense his massive shoulders were under his T-shirt. I walked to the fridge, instinct guiding me that what I was looking for would be inside it. Yup, there they were. I grabbed two. “You guys take it easy for a bit, I’ll see what I can do,” I said and departed.
Downstairs, I opened the door, making enough noise to alert him to my arrival. I moved to stand beside him and handed over the bottle of beer I’d taken from the fridge. “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” I said when he hesitated.
He took the bottle. “I’ve been trying to avoid the stuff while …”
While you’re upset and emotional.
I gulped my own down. “I don’t think one will have you living on the streets pissing yourself.”
He took a swig.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I tempted a glance over my shoulder to the kitchen window and saw three faces there. I cocked my eyebrow and Nigella put her hands up in defeat and began to usher the Ansons away.
