“Oh, Laurie.Some reward.I feel like I'm cursing you with thiscrap.”
“Not at all.It's all out of your life, not mine.I can handleit.Now...”Laurie towelled off the places he'd washed, thenfinished his ministrations with a kiss to Sasha's brow.“You weretough to wake up from that one at all.Was it the forestagain?”
“Oh, great.I get to bore you now, as well as destroying yoursleep cycle and—”
“Sasha.The deal.”
Sasha lay looking up at him.Laurie was dressed for a hotsummer night, which meant in his lovely pale-ivory skin and nothingelse.His hair was rumpled, shadows of fatigue beneath his eyes.Though he found it extraordinary that Sasha would grab a phone callfrom him any time of night or day, Laurie had no idea of his ownvirtues.Who else would let himself be dragged out of sleep likethis night after night, and never show a trace ofimpatience?You should be afather, Sasha thought, with sudden poignantintensity.Sasha owed him, and so he began.“Yes.And Stefan wasnever like that, you know?Never just the poor martyred poet andrebel.Hewasthose things, but those were the parts of him I chose to tellyou about.”
“When we first met.”
“Yes.Because you were like Sirius, like a star had come downto stand by my blanket and talk to me.And those were the things Icould bear.”
“I understand that.I know.”
“He's a killer.I've seen him deal crack to fifteen-year-oldjunkies, cut arms deals with Tajiki rebels not much older thanthat.He deserved every word of testimony I gave against him,but...when you strip away the courtroom, the lawyers, and it'sjust me facing him across a clearing, looking into his eyes...”Sasha didn't want to look at anything any more, not even histousled, sleep-flushed lover, and he pulled Laurie's pillow overhis face.
GentlyLaurie removed it.“But you didn't send Stefan to his death,” hereminded him.“Just deportation.”
“It amounts to the same.He wouldn't survive long in Aiud jail,if that's where he ended up.And if he's on the streets—well, hebetrayed too many of his own while he was over here.Maybe theyhanged him in the forest after all.”
“And your new shrink still thinks this is the best way ofdealing with this, does he?Waking you up?”
“Yeah.”It wasn't too late, Sasha told himself.He could phonethe number Olivia had given him, get set up with someone beforeLaurie noticed the gap.The thought of explaining all this to astranger made his skin crawl, made him ache as if he were bruisedfrom head to foot.“For now.I dunno, Laurie.I just wish I couldget the hell away from myself for a while.”
Lauriewrung out the flannel and folded it on the bedside table.It wasstrange to hear Sasha echo his own desires of a few hours earlier,the twitchy urge to escape that had been consuming him before he'dseen the car.The Merc had been weighing on his conscience sinceSash had got home, mercifully too late and tired for more than ashower and bed.Now he had a cue for confession.“You know, I mightbe able to help you with that.The getting away part,anyway.”
Sashatried to concentrate.Laurie's weekend-getaway treats were alwaysset up with the best of intentions, and Sasha did his best to takean interest in the spa hotels and off-road driving.Then somethingbetter occurred to him.“That charity gig down in Cornwall is thisweekend, isn't it?Are you going to do it after all?”
“Er, no.It's a bit too far.But there's nothing to say weshouldn't blow out of town for a couple of days.Anywhere youlike.”
“Sounds good.We can hire a car.”
“That might not be necessary.”
Laurieheld out a hand.After a moment, Sasha scrambled out of bed andallowed himself to be led to the window.The bedroom had two, bothwith nice deep sills where a couple of skinny lads could curl uptogether and watch the city's rivers flow.Laurie took his usualplace—oblivious to his nakedness, but the only passersby were wearyworking girls who'd probably seen it all that night anyway—andSasha settled into his arms.“What am I meant to be lookingat?”
“The R-107 down there.”
“A type of helicopter?An Inland Revenue claimform?”
“A car, you idiot.The little red Merc.”
Sashalooked.He was a stranger to the Western world's obsession withmakes, models and horsepower, but he could pick out a Mercedes, andthe sleek convertible parked across the road was conspicuous.Hesmiled.About bloody time Laurie stopped spending every spare pennyon their mutual, sensible good and blew some cash on himself.“Followed you home, did she?”
“Pretty much.”Laurie squeezed him, pulled up the blanket tokeep him warm.Tremulous relief shot through him at the amusementin his lover's voice.Sasha wasn't going to mind.Of course not.“Honest, Sash, it's like it was meant to be.When I got her here,didn't old Mrs Matusek shoot straight out of her flat and shove herresident's permit into my hand?She's got to go into care, and shesaid she'd be damned three times to hell if she let the council getany money back on the space for her old Mini.She only charged mefifty quid.”
Sasharepressed a snort.He reckoned Mrs M was destined for the devilanyway.The permits were free to pensioners, and non-transferable,as the old bugger probably knew.Still, they'd cross that bridgewhen the parking fine came through.“You bought her,then?”
“Yes.The car and the permit, not Mrs Matusek.”This was thetime for Laurie to drop the flim-flam and address the nagging guilthe'd shoved to the back of his mind.He rushed straight into it.“Fact is, I used some of Marielle's fund.It's just been sittingthere, and I didn't want to touch our account.It's okay, isn't it?I mean, it's a thing for both of us.We'll have fun.”
Sashatwisted round and looked at him in wonder.When Laurie had turnedtwenty-one a few months before, his mother had written him afive-figure cheque with an insouciance that had made Sasha's headspin.Her own funds were limited, she had explained.But she'dwished to rectify some of the injustice done to Laurie by hisfather.She'd refused to take no for an answer, and Sasha andLaurie had kept the cheque pinned to their kitchen noticeboard forweeks, as a kind of bewildering joke—more than half a year's salaryfor either of them, tossed at them like a handful of glitter.“Ididn't even know you'd paid that in.”
“Do you mind?I know I should have asked you first.We talkedabout savings, house deposits, that kind of thing...”
“You talked about them.Laurie, have I ever said anything toyou at all about that money?”
“No.You didn't seem to think it was real.”One night, longago, Sasha had managed to make Laurie feel like millionaire becausehe had a twenty-pound note in his pocket.They saw moneydifferently, Laurie knew.They always would.“But we put our cashin the same pot, so...”
