by Paul Berry
Dad, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—
‘It’s a cold night to be out in the park.’ I jump at the sound of the voice. A man in a long black coat is standing in front of me. ‘I know what you’re going to do. Give it to me.’
‘I wasn’t doing anything.’ I hide the glass behind my back.
‘Give it to me.’ He holds out his hand, his eyes locked onto mine. ‘I won’t ask again.’ I give him the shard and he tosses it into a maze hedge.
‘That’s much better, isn’t it?’ He smiles and sits next to me. ‘Why are you here alone on such a cold night?’
‘I needed to be by myself.’
Don’t go to the park alone. Don’t talk to strangers …
‘I’m Adam.’ He offers his hand. He waits, as though he knows how uncomfortable it is for me to touch him. ‘I promise not to bite.’
I take a chance and shake it. He doesn’t release his grip and presses his other hand over mine. I fight the urge to pull my hand away. He lets go.
‘Sam,’ I say weakly, my name sounding like a sigh.
‘Sam and Adam, Sam and Adam … sounds like one long name if you say it quickly enough.’ He laughs. An owl hoots in the sky and I glimpse the white of its wings flashing past the gazebo. ‘Your hand is frozen.’ I start to shiver uncontrollably. ‘Looks like the rest of you is even colder. Can I put my coat on you?’ I nod. He takes it off and slides it around my shoulders. The lining is soft with some kind of thick fur. He shifts closer and the warmth of his body radiates into me.
I try desperately to say something, a lie to explain why I’m here, but all that comes out is, ‘I don’t know what to do any more.’
He looks in the direction of the college. ‘The solution to your problems won’t be found there tonight.’
‘I’ve done some stupid things, bad things,’ I say, remembering the expression on Mr Hewitt’s face after I kissed him and Rachel’s when she saw the peacock. ‘Really bad things.’
‘If you don’t want to go home, why don’t you come to my house?’
I wipe my runny nose on my sleeve. Something about his voice puts me at ease, as if I’ve known him for years.
Before I can even think about it I say, ‘Ok.’
‘You’ll like it there, and I’m having a little soirée tonight to celebrate the jaws of winter opening.’
‘It’s my favourite season too,’ I say listlessly.
‘The end of winter is what we should really hate. That’s when the magic disappears.’ His face looks like carved obsidian in the moonlight. It’s so beautiful I feel afraid when I look at it.
‘Before we go,’ he says, ‘there’s just one thing you have to do. Take my hand.’ The thought of holding his hand again makes my heart beat faster, and I feel I’m about to agree to something I don’t understand.
I slowly reach out. Before I can change my mind, he grasps my hand and pulls me up from the bench.
Still holding my hand, he guides me through the maze, the only sounds the powdery crunch of our footsteps in the snow, which is falling so thickly I can’t see more than a few feet ahead.
He seems to know the maze better than I do, taking each turn as though he’s done it a thousand times before. I nervously look around, convinced someone from the disco is spying over the hedges.
‘We’ll be there before you know it,’ he says. ‘Do you feel warmer?’ I nod. My teeth have stopped chattering and the lining of his coat feels snug against my body. He leans over and brushes a leaf from my hair. ‘I love walking at night. Anywhere and anything is possible without the harsh light of day spoiling it.’
‘I’m afraid of what tomorrow will bring,’ I say.
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure I can chase your fears away.’ He gently pats my back and a warm glow spreads between my shoulder blades.
We leave the maze and walk across a snow-covered field towards the woods that border it. I tell him what happened at the disco and he listens intently, occasionally flicking snow off my shoulders. When I finish, we stop in the middle of the field.
‘Listen to me, Sam. This is very important. What happened was not your fault. It’s those parasites that surround you that are to blame.’
‘I wish I could believe that.’
‘When we get to my house everything will be better.’
‘Where do you live?’ Doubt starts nipping in the back of my mind.
‘Not far from here. Somewhere you’ll be safe. Unless you want me to take you back home?’
‘No, I’m fine. Just a bit nervous.’ He squeezes the back of my neck gently and I quiver, pulling away. ‘Sorry,’ I say, angry at myself. Why can’t I let anyone touch me without reacting like a fucked-up mess?
‘Never apologise for how you feel. You’re only betraying yourself.’ He smiles. ‘But perhaps it’s best to ignore strangers who give you unsolicited advice at night.’
We reach the edge of the field, the treeline transformed into a sinister forest from a fairy tale as snow weighs down the bowers. I start feeling anxious when I remember the two men I saw last night, their bodies sliding over and into each other. Had I just imagined it, a configuration of shadows in the trees creating a scene I wanted to be part of?
Adam stops and strokes his chin thoughtfully, then points towards the trees. ‘This is the most expedient route to my house.’ The moonlight barely penetrates through the snowy canopy and darkness hangs from the branches like shrouds. ‘Stay close. It could be slippery.’
We follow a twisting path through the trees. Adam almost floats over the icy ground, his footsteps barely making a sound, and it’s difficult to keep up with him. The path gets narrower and seems to double back on itself.
There is a crashing sound in the undergrowth.
‘Somebody’s following us,’ I whisper. Perhaps the man whose face changed is hunting tonight for a new victim.
‘Maybe it’s a bear or a wolf,’ Adam says, smiling. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.’ I feel pairs of eyes staring hungrily at me from the darkness and walk so close to him that our shoulders rub together.
‘Here we are,’ he says.
We are standing in a clearing in front of a tall hedge that stretches up about twenty feet. There’s a narrow, arched gap in its leaves, just wide enough for one person to walk through. Adam stands under it and beckons, but I hesitate.
‘You seem to be nervous again,’ he says. ‘Do I frighten you?’
‘A bit,’ I say, covering my mouth with embarrassment. ‘I don’t know why I said that.’
‘Honesty is best.’ He laughs.
‘What’s through the gap?’
‘You’ll have to find out for yourself.’
‘Is it a haunted castle?’
‘Come and take a look.’ He disappears, leaving me alone in the clearing.
I take one last glance behind me and walk through, the pressure suddenly changing in my ears as though I’m on an aeroplane taking off.
Chapter 8
A garden stretches into the distance, and ahead I can see the glimmering lights of a house. Except it’s not a house but a turreted mansion with a huge gothic door framed by stone pillars. I wasn’t that far off with my haunted castle prediction.
‘You live here?’ I ask in awe. ‘Are you a millionaire?’
‘Not quite. It belongs to my father.’
The perfectly mown lawn is strangely untouched by snow, as if it’s covered by a giant invisible umbrella. In fact, I can’t see snow anywhere, not in the trees and bushes that border the garden or on the sloping roofs and turrets of the mansion. The air feels different against my face. It’s still chilly but not the same biting cold as it was in the park.
I look up at the sky. A star I’ve never noticed before glows red next to the moon.
We crunch up the gravel driveway past a topiary in the shape of a sleepi
ng dragon, the densely packed privet trimmed into precise details. A forked tail wraps around its body and two fangs protrude from its wrinkled snout.
‘Dragons are my favourite beasts,’ Adam says. ‘Although when the so-called heroic knight kills them in fairy tales I feel sad.’
‘But they’re always about to eat the princess.’
‘Maybe the dragon is just waiting for his prince to free him. But they just stick a sword into his belly without even a please or thank you.’ He grins and makes a growling sound, flapping his arms and breathing out a misty cloud.
‘You make a very scary dragon.’ I laugh. He tries to take my hands, but I stuff them into my pockets.
‘I must show you one more thing before you die of cold.’
We walk around the side of the house past a conservatory. Behind it is a frozen lake that stretches to a line of trees. It sparkles in the moonlight, the dusty frost on its surface whipped into eddies by the breeze.
‘On summer evenings I take a boat out and just look at the stars. The sky here is so clear you can see to the end of the universe.’
‘Have you tried skating on it?’ I ask.
‘The ice is too thin. You’d fall through and be a tasty snack for hungry fish.’
‘I can’t believe your house has its own lake. I’d never want to leave if I lived here.’
‘When spring arrives and the ice melts I’ll take you on a private cruise.’
‘I think I get seasick.’ Adam laughs, a rich sound that echoes across the ice.
‘Enough of my prattling. Let’s get you inside.’ My teeth are chattering slightly. ‘A couple of friends live with me. They can’t wait to meet you.’ My brow knots with anxiety. When my dad invites strangers to the house I always hide in my room until they leave.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ he says. ‘They’ll love you.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Scaredy cat.’
We walk back around to the front door. Moths with blue wings swarm around the door lamps, banging their plump thoraxes against the opaque glass. He pulls down the iron handle.
‘Are you ready?’ he asks. I nod apprehensively.
The door swings open. ‘My humble home.’
It looks like a film set. The floor is white marble veined with gold. From the ceiling hangs an enormous chandelier, the crystals chiming musically against each other. The walls are adorned with paintings and tapestries, and everywhere flickering candles bathe the hallway with warm light.
‘It’s beautiful. Like Dracula’s castle,’ I say, instantly regretting the words. ‘That was rude. I keep blurting out the wrong thing.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ a familiar voice says from behind the door. ‘It’s true.’ A man with blond hair steps out. I gasp with surprise.
Adam rolls his eyes. ‘Good evening, Marcus. Try not to scare Sam to death.’
‘Well, look what the cat dragged in,’ he says, looking Adam up and down. He takes my hand and gently kisses my knuckles. ‘Though it’s always a pleasure to meet Sam.’
‘I thought you were dead,’ I say, still reeling. ‘Everyone thinks you’re dead.’
‘Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’ I resist the urge to snatch my hand back.
Marcus runs his fingers through Adam’s damp hair. ‘Are the mice nesting in there again?’ Adam kisses him on the cheek.
‘Hilarious as ever.’ I fidget with my hands, feeling completely out of place. Adam looks at me and smiles reassuringly. ‘Sam’s going to spend a little time with us until he feels better.’
‘Then food will be my first recommendation,’ Marcus says. ‘I’ve prepared a wondrous feast to tempt the soul as well as the palate.’
‘Has the party started without me?’ A man wearing a red silk jacket stands at the top of the staircase. He sits on the bannister and slides down, landing perfectly on both feet at the bottom. ‘Tens from all the judges. No need to applaud,’ he says, bowing.
It’s Philip.
‘I know, I know,’ he says, grinning. ‘Back from the dead like Marcus.’
‘Someday he’ll break his legs, not to mention his neck,’ Adam says. Philip runs up and throws his arms around me.
‘Glad to see you again, monster boy,’ he says. I try to relax into the embrace but my body stiffens. ‘Still the ice prince around people, I notice.’
‘Sorry … yes,’ I say, feeling angry with myself again.
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Philip says. ‘I’m far too touchy-feely. Although I did feel the winter in your bones.’
I can’t believe they’re actually both here, and I dig my nail into my palm, reassured by the pain that I’m not having some intense hallucination My shirt under Adam’s coat clings damply to my skin and I sneeze loudly, the sound ringing like a gunshot around the hallway.
‘I’m so glad to see you.’ I sniff and wipe my wet nose. ‘It’s not been the same since you both left.’
‘We’ve missed you too, Sam,’ Philip says. ‘We should’ve invited you round sooner.’ They all stare at me and my eyes dart nervously to their foreheads.
‘Dinner can wait,’ Marcus says, breaking the silence. ‘Get our guest into a hot bath before he dies of hypothermia.’ He helps me off with the coat, and Adam takes me by the arm and leads me upstairs.
‘We should get you some dry clothes too,’ Adam says. ‘I’m sure I have something suitable in your size.’
‘Please don’t make him wear a cravat!’ Marcus shouts up. ‘They’re banned from my dinner table!’
‘Ignore him. You can wear anything you want.’
We walk down a panelled corridor and enter a marble bathroom that’s the size of my living room and kitchen put together. In the centre is a white ceramic bath, the feet golden lion paws. He turns on the taps and pours in sweet-smelling liquids from glass bottles.
‘How long have Marcus and Philip been here?’ I ask, my voice echoing around the walls.
‘A while. Things weren’t going well for them at home, so I invited them to stay.’
‘Is this some kind of refuge?’
‘You could say that.’ He chuckles. ‘Though refuge sounds like a place for stray dogs, even if Marcus and Philip make that sound entirely appropriate.’
The bath swells with frothy bubbles and he turns off the taps, rolls up his shirt-sleeves and tests the water.
‘I really don’t need to take a bath,’ I say.
‘Perfect temperature,’ he says, ignoring me. ‘Take off your clothes and get in.’ He shakes the water off his hand and sits on a velvet stool. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks. I shift my feet nervously.
‘Nothing. It’s just that usually when I have a bath there’s nobody watching.’
Adam grins. ‘There’s always a first time. Don’t worry, I’ll close my eyes when you get in.’
‘Actually, I’m fine. I just need to dry off.’ I sneeze again, pinching my nose so it sounds like a wet squeak. Adam sighs and points at the bath. The scent from the water is intoxicating, its beguiling tendrils pulling me towards it.
‘Ok,’ I say. ‘Just for a few minutes.’ He continues staring at me. ‘You said you weren’t going to look.’
He puts his hand over his eyes. ‘Go ahead. I can’t see anything.’ I hesitate. ‘Hurry up. The water will start to get cold.’ I feel self-conscious even when I’m standing naked in my own bathroom. I slowly take off my shirt and lay it on the floor. Adam tries to suppress a giggle.
‘You’re looking!’ I say, seeing his eyes glinting through the cracks in his fingers. ‘Cover them with both hands.’ He presses his palms against them.
‘They’re fully covered. Your modesty is perfectly safe.’ I undo my belt and pause before pulling my trousers down, checking Adam’s hands are still over his eyes.
‘The sooner you do this,’ he says, ‘the sooner y
ou can eat.’
I remove my underwear and gingerly step into the bath. The water is warm but not too hot. I lie back and moan with pleasure, the heat flowing through my skin into my muscles, the smell from the bath oils instantly making me feel relaxed. The image of a beach floods into my mind and I can feel the soft sand between my toes, the waves lapping over my feet.
‘Can I look now?’ he says with exasperation. I quickly arrange the bubbles so that they cover everything.
‘Yes. It’s fine.’ Adam takes a sponge and dips it into the water. I look nervously at his hand.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Don’t panic. I’m going to wash your back.’ I lean forward, crossing my arms to hide my skinny chest, and he slides the sponge up and down my spine.
‘Is it just the three of you that live here?’ I say, trying not to get hard under the bubbles.
‘For the moment. But I think a house this large would be a joyless place without the laughter of others.’ The circular movements of the sponge feel hypnotic. ‘Are you starting to feel better?’ I nod, the anxiety that constantly runs through my veins dissolving into the water.
‘Thank you for saving me in the maze,’ I say. ‘I don’t know what might have happened.’ I put my arms down and he starts washing my chest.
‘You’re safe here. Stay as long as you like.’ I want his hand to move lower, but he wrings out the sponge. ‘I think silk would be appropriate for Marcus’s supper, don’t you?’ He walks out of the bathroom and I lie back in the water and listen to the foam crackling around me. My eyelids feel heavy and start to droop.
‘It’s not bedtime yet.’ He lays clothes and shoes on a chaise longue, then opens out a large white bath towel with his arms, almost disappearing behind it. ‘Cross my heart I won’t look this time.’ He closes his eyes and I step out of the bath and into the towel, which he wraps around my waist, his hands brushing against my buttocks.
