‘It’s rude of us to keep avoiding our host.’ Adam was ironing a shirt, his brow furrowed with the concentration of perfecting a crisp collar. In moments like this he looked every inch the Ghanaian prince preparing his Sunday best.
‘You know I think you might be the most polite person I’ve ever met. Who cares if it’s rude? We’ve only got a few days left here anyway …’ Only in saying the words out loud did Noah, in that moment, absorb their significance.
Because it was true, they only had five days left in the manor, and then this strange fever dream of a summer would be over. Noah couldn’t bear to even try to imagine what would come after. Certainly the probability of walking away with the prize money felt ever more unlikely – he hadn’t set foot inside his lab since Adam had found him there, several days earlier.
Despite all that, Noah still didn’t want to put clothes on, make small talk or sip expensive wine. He wanted to guzzle the sweat as it dripped from Adam’s chest, and fill his mouth with flesh.
‘All the more reason for us to show our faces. We’ve already missed the last three dinners, and I get the sense that Opal needs company.’ Noah felt constantly confounded by the depth of Adam’s kind nature. Unlike most people he knew who prided themselves on being ‘nice’ Adam was intuitive with his kindness. Knowing when to give it to others, and give it unconditionally, without holding out on giving it to himself.
‘She did say something to me the other night about how strange it would be when we all leave,’ Noah mused.
‘You see.’ Adam held the shirt up, inspecting his work. ‘It will cost us nothing to show some thoughtfulness, and it might just mean a lot to her.’
Noah bounded from the bed and kissed Adam on his bare shoulder. Still now his lips tingled at every point of contact. ‘Fine, I’ll get dressed.’
They walked down the first half of the stairs clutching each other’s hands, and then, almost automatically, pulled away as they neared the bottom.
Opal was standing in the hallway, with the telephone receiver in hand. When she saw them approach, she put it down.
‘Ah lovely, have you come down to join me?’ The sincerity in her voice made Noah feel bad for his earlier reluctance. As he was growing accustomed to learning: Adam was again right.
‘Johan is already at the table. I’ll let Hetty know we’ll need two more places set up.’ Opal rushed into the kitchen. Noah’s shoulders slumped in dismay. He’d been enjoying his time spent away from Johan.
‘It’s going to be fine. Johan is best not paid too muchattention to; he’s just trying to prove himself, like everybody here.’ Noah wondered, not for the first time, if Adam could read minds.
‘You don’t get it; he has it out for me.’ Noah had never been able to banish from his mind the memory of Adam standing silently by during Johan’s onslaught at the gala.
‘You know what I think?’ Adam didn’t wait for Noah to respond before answering his own question: ‘That you two are more similar than you realise. He was pretending as well, remember? He hates himself for being an imposter, and so he takes it out on you, because it’s the only way he can stand to confront himself.’
Noah resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes Adam’s empathetic tendencies bordered on the extreme. ‘So you’re saying Iaman imposter?’
Adam chuckled. ‘I think all the best artists are.’
‘That’s a cop-out.’
‘Maybe just try and go in with an open mind?’
Noah nodded and they headed into the dining room.
Opal’s spirits seemed lifted over dinner; she began to talk more animatedly. Maybe there was something in the air, a sense of things coming to an end, of riding the tailcoats of the height of summer that loosened her lips, or maybe it was the free-flowing Lambrusco. She recounted stories from her university days. Most of them included Gareth weaselling first himself, and then Opal by extension, into some exclusive event.
Noah watched as Adam rejoiced at the stories, asking questions about what Gareth was like as a younger man.
‘You must have heard some of these stories?’ Opal’s cheeks had grown flushed with nostalgia and wine.
‘Not really, we hardly ever spent time together, the three of us.’ Adam’s cheer was etched with sadness. It was the same look he wore every time he talked about Joshua. ‘He didn’t want me to think I wasn’t his number-one priority I suppose. I’m not sure.’ Adam shrugged. ‘I knew he had love in his life, though, and I met Gareth a few times, but it was only really afterwards that we got to know each other; nothing like funeral planning to fast-track any relationship …’
Noah hadn’t seen that before in Adam. Using humour to deflect away from real pain. It was so unlike him. But it occurred to Noah now how raw this all must still be. Joshua had only died eighteen months ago. How would he cope if his mother passed? It didn’t bear thinking about. Instinctively, he reached for Adam’s hand under the table.
Johan had been mostly quiet, but he piped up then: ‘Well let me tell you that Gareth raved about Joshua constantly, and up until they met I’d never heard Gareth speak about any of the men he was with, let alone call them his “partner”.’
Adam smiled, and Noah saw his eyes glisten. Johan gave him a little nod before leaning back in his seat.
‘And what about you, Adam, have you got someone special in your life? I realised I never really asked any of you that …’ Johan continued.
Adam squeezed Noah’s hand under the table, a silent question that Noah understood instantly; in response he simply lifted their clasped hands onto the table.
‘Oh,’ Opal spluttered. Red wine rained over the pale linen tablecloth and as she hurried into the kitchen to find a cloth, it was hard to tell if she was more embarrassed about the spillage or her reaction.
