by Lily Morton
I’m standing in front of a large old house. It must have been a beauty at one time with its tall windows and graceful lines. Now, it looks like it’s on the way to the knackers’ yard. Graffiti is scrawled messily across its front, and the windows are boarded up so they look like blind eyes staring down at me. Flyers and mail that have been stacked in front of the boarded-up front door twist and slide across the drive in the breeze.
There’s no sign of life, but somehow it feels occupied. Like someone is watching me. I shove away that unpleasant thought and start to walk up the drive. In my head I can’t help but wonder how the newspapers will report my murder and whether they’ll use the words “criminally stupid,” but my body forces my legs to keep moving anyway.
I look around. The front door is obviously out, so I make my way to the back of the house. Overgrown bushes rain water drops on me, so by the time I push into the garden I’m feeling damp and cross.
I look cautiously around, but there’s nothing. The garden is wild, and the house forbidding. I shake my head. Fuck this. I’ll ring him on the ghost tour number, and he can get his wallet back then.
It’s as I move that my gaze catches on the board over the back door. At first sight it’s nailed tight, but now I can see a gap through which a little light is filtering. The gap is the size of a human body. I’d have to contort a bit, but Blue would get in easily. I’m just contemplating it when someone comes up behind me.
“Can I help you?” a deep voice enquires.
I spin round. “Shit! You frightened me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry that I frightened the stalker. I do beg your pardon.”
I look at the bloke standing in front of me. He’s tall with tattoos spreading across his hands and up his neck. His hair is jet black with a steak of white running through it, and I have the highly inappropriate thought that he looks like a giant skunk.
I think of telling him that, but he doesn’t look like he’d appreciate a shared piece of humour. “I’m looking for Blue,” I say instead.
The intent look on his face deepens. “Blue? What do you want with Blue?”
“He left his wallet with me.”
I don’t know what the words mean to him because they seem fairly simple to me, but his face darkens with anger, and I back up a few healthy steps.
“Fucking idiot,” he spits out. “I told him to stop doing that, but does he listen?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I say cautiously. “Look, could I see him?”
“No, you fucking can’t.” He straightens up to his full height. “You can fuck off, mate. Right now.” He shakes his head. “What the fuck is the world coming to when a john follows a bloke home to give him his wallet?” He holds out one massive hand. “Give it me and I’ll see he gets it.”
I stare at him. A john? What the fuck is he talking about? Then I look up at the abandoned house and think of Blue’s thinness and tiredness, the way he was walking as if his ribs hurt today, and my heart sinks as I come to the obvious conclusion about him. Nevertheless, I stand up to my full height.
“No, I won’t,” I say sharply. “I’d like to see him, please. He looked like he was hurt this afternoon and—”
With eerie speed, he backs me against the wall. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything.” I’m trying for indignation but it’s a bit wheezy. “I fucking swear. We ate in the park and talked, and that’s it.” He stares at me. “I promise,” I say, investing all my sincerity into the words. After a long pause, he steps back, and I draw a breath. “I want to see Blue,” I say again, wondering where this suicidal stubbornness is coming from. A normal person would have run off by now.
He stares at me and then shrugs, his shoulders moving like a mountain under an avalanche. “Okay. Come on in.” He pauses as he peels the board back and gestures me through. “But no wandering off. This isn’t Through the Keyhole, so don’t poke your nose into anything.”
“Okay,” I say quickly, squeezing through the gap, aware of him following me. We step into a kitchen, and after one careless inhale, I try to breathe through my mouth.
It’s lit by a candle that’s casting off a patchouli scent that can’t overlay the stink of old damp wood and mould and other even more disgusting scents. The kitchen is cobwebbed and full of rubbish piled high. I shiver at the freezing temperature, and turn to face my assailant, looking at his face curiously in the flickering light.
It’s a surprisingly gentle face on the top of such a man mountain, with a soft mouth and very bright blue eyes, and I relax a little. Someone with that mouth can’t be a coldblooded killer. I think of the imaginary newspaper article again and amend it so that it definitely says genius level of stupid.
“Come on,” he says after examining me in the same way. He jerks his head towards a set of stairs that lead up and out of the kitchen. “Blue will be in his room.”
“His room?” I echo, wishing I could take the startled sound of my voice back.
A flicker of humour crosses his face. “Yes, he’s got the royal suite. Always stays there when he’s in town.”
“Well, it’s a home away from home,” I say faintly and turn in amazement as he breaks into a clap of booming laughter.
When he recovers, he slaps me on the shoulder so hard I nearly headbutt a cupboard. “I think I might like you,” he muses.
“Well, if that’s how you like people, I’d hate to get on your bad side,” I mutter, peeling myself off the cupboard and following him up the stairs. They’re covered in a threadbare carpet and dangerously rackety. I pick my way past a couple that are nothing but a hole and find myself in a long, narrow hall that looks like something from a horror story. More graffiti spreads across the walls, covering the patches left by the wallpaper peeling away. It’s dark and lit by the flickering glow of more candles that are guttering in the ruins of old ones and set alongside the bare boards.
My companion picks his way delicately across to the end door where he bangs loudly on the door. “Blue, you in there?”
My heart inexplicably picks up speed. It’s only at this point that I stop to consider the fact that Blue is going to be very angry with me for following him and intruding into his personal business. I look back longingly at the hall behind me, contemplating throwing the wallet on the floor and making a run for it, but at that point the giant opens the door and looks round it.
“You’ve got a visitor,” he says.
I hear Blue’s voice say, “What,” and the giant gestures for me to move forward and ushers me through.
I edge past him into the room. It’s small and freezing cold and smells of damp and mould overlaid with the faint fragrance of deodorant. There’s no furniture apart from a side table on which is a pile of paperbacks and a candle in a saucer. Blue’s ghost-tour suit hangs from a nail on the back of the door and Blue is…
My gaze snags on him lying on an old mattress covered by a bright blue sleeping bag. He has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders which is no wonder, because when he gasps “Levi,” his breath shows in the air.
“Surprise,” I say faintly as he surges to his feet. I cringe, waiting for the angry words, but I’m blindsided when he steps quickly towards me.
“Are you alright?” he asks urgently.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I say slowly.
He hesitates. “Has something happened at the house? I didn’t like leaving you.” I gape at him. Realisation replaces his worried expression. “How did you know where to find me?” he says sharply, embarrassment showing as he shoots a quick glance around the room.
I wince. “I followed you.” Anger crosses his face and I quickly hold my hand up, aware of the giant observing us silently. “I’m sorry. Before you justifiably shout at me, I didn’t know I was going to do it before it happened. You dropped your wallet, and I ran after you, but then I just kept following you, and I know it’s no excuse, but I was worried about you because you were moving like you’d hurt yourself, and yo
u looked so tired.” I force myself to stop the incredible vomiting of words and drop the wallet into his hand. “So anyway, here’s your wallet. Ta-da!” I say faintly. “You’re very welcome.”
Blue stares at me open-mouthed. The shocked silence is broken by the giant behind me breaking into that hoarse thunderclap of a laugh.
“Will,” Blue says in a warning voice.
The giant shakes his head, detaching himself from the wall so abruptly that I take a wary step back.
“I was worried,” he says, grabbing Blue’s shoulder gently. “He had your wallet, and I thought you’d been…”
Blue shakes his head, resignation and a horrible shame crossing his face. He shoots me a hopeless sort of look that stops my heart. “For fuck’s sake, Will. I don’t do that anymore.” He sneaks another glance at me, and, although he looks back at Will, the next sentence seems meant for me. “I haven’t done that in a long while.”
“I don’t care about that,” I say into the silence. “I mean, that’s your business.” I pause and then back comes the word deluge. “Do you have to stay here? I don’t mean to be rude about the place, but it’s damp and that won’t do your cough any good. You’re pale and tired and look like crap, and not warmed-up crap either because you couldn’t warm a fucking gnat up in here.” I pause. “Not that it’s any of my business,” I say primly and nod vigorously to emphasise my point.
Humour and irritation vie for prominence in Blue’s face, but irritation wins. “Yes, I do have to stay here unfortunately, Little Lord Fauntleroy. You see, unlike yourself who’s been gifted a massive fucking house in the nicest area of York, some of us have to settle for this bag of shit because it’s either this or the street. Have you ever faced that choice?” I shake my head, and a scornful expression crosses his face. “No, of fucking course you haven’t. I might have guessed that by your posh voice and nice stuff. Well, you won’t be surprised that I have, and I never want to do it again. Along with my career as the crappiest rentboy in Yorkshire, I was one of those people covered in a blanket in a shop doorway, and let me tell you, the candle shop does not take kindly to people warming their entrance up and that perfume smell gave me a right headache.”
He pauses for breath and breaks into a fit of coughing.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and without thinking, I step into him and rub his back. “Take little breaths,” I advise, looking around. “Have you got any water?”
“Council cut it off,” Will says laconically. “They’re quite unhelpful towards squatters. I’m thinking of lodging a complaint. I certainly won’t vote for them again.”
Blue holds his side.
“How did you hurt your ribs?” I ask.
He shakes his head and then directs a fulminating glance at Will as the big man says, “Got into a fight with Fay’s bloke last night when he found him in here looking through his stuff.”
“Fay? Ouija board Fay?”
Blue reluctantly nods and I whistle. “No wonder she had it in for you.” I skate my fingers down his ribs and look up anxiously as he shudders deeply. “Shit, sorry. Did I hurt you?”
He shakes his head, and Will chuckles. I look at him in consternation, but he just grins at Blue. “You okay now?” he asks.
“No, he’s not,” I say hotly.
Blue groans. “Fuck’s sake, Levi.”
“Well, you’re not alright,” I protest. “This place is …” I pause. “Not really very comfortable,” I say earnestly. Will and Blue give me synchronised smirks. “It’s damp and freezing. No wonder you’re ill. You can’t keep living here.”
“And what do you suggest, Levi?” he says, angrily pulling away from me. My hands automatically miss the warmth of his body. “Shall I buy the house down the road from you? We can be neighbours and have tea parties with tea and scones where we lift up our little fingers when we drink. Or maybe I should contact Prince Harry and take him up on his invitation of a room in his palace.”
“Or you could come and stay with me,” I say. The words burst out unplanned.
It’s like a silence grenade has gone off as they stare at me open-mouthed.
Chapter 6
Blue
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Did you just ask me to come and stay with you, Levi?”
I expect him to laugh but instead he nods earnestly. “Yes. Come and stay with me. I know it’s spooky and the ghosts are probably homicidal, but at least you’ll be able to lie in a bed and have a bath before they gruesomely murder you in your sleep.”
I suppress a groan at the thought of clean sheets and hot water. “Did he hit his head coming into the house?” I ask, looking at Will for confirmation.
He shakes his head, a wondering smile crossing his face. “No, he’s sane.” He looks at Levi. “Well, as sane as you can get for someone who’s asking you to be their roommate.”
“Oh, shut up,” I mutter as he grins.
I turn back to Levi and swallow at the sight he makes in this shithole of a room. Dressed in jeans with a navy jumper and a heavy navy peacoat over it, his wavy brown hair gleams in the candlelight. His open, expressive face, with full lips and a sharp nose, looks earnest and full of purpose.
He’s pretty, for sure. I’d noticed that the very first moment I’d looked through his window and saw him naked. Well, I’d noticed his large cock first. Then I’d noticed the prettiness.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him though. I’d caught sight of him in a pub a few days before then. I’d been with some mates after a ghost walk and couldn’t take my eyes off him as he stood leaning on the bar sipping his pint with a faraway look in his eyes. Sad eyes.
I knew he’d lost his mum before he even told me. I hadn’t been trying to read him. I don’t try to read people at all—it’s how I keep myself safe.
Despite my efforts, people’s thoughts and emotions pour into my head all the fucking time without stopping, but I tried to hold back with him, closed my brain off so he could have some privacy. It’s difficult because he’s so honest and transparent. His loss leaked through loud and clear.
And now this pretty man with the sad brown eyes knows that I once hooked for my doss money, that I was a party to lying and cheating desperate people, and that I live in a total shithole. I think of his lovely house and feel heat on my cheeks. He needs to go far away from here and back to his real life. I really am no good for him.
“You need to go,” I say abruptly and sigh at the hurt look on his face. “You can’t be here.” I can hear the desperation in my voice and look at Will for help. He shakes his head in silent refusal and leans back against the wall. Wanker. I turn back to Levi. “Look, this is none of your business. Where and how I live has got fuck all to do with you.”
He folds his arms, and a stubborn look comes over that kind face. I almost want to laugh because he looks like a billy goat who’s tried to eat the washing. “I said I’ll help you,” I say quickly. “And I will. But my personal life has nothing to do with you. I don’t need your charity. So you can go back to your own house.”
Levi shakes his head immediately and predictably. “It’s not charity.” He unfolds his arms, and for a second I think he’s going to put those hands with their beautiful long fingers on me. Earlier his touch had felt like he’d seared me. “It’s not charity,” he says again insistently. I raise one eyebrow, and he sighs heavily. “It’s not. Listen, you’re the first friendly face I’ve met here, and you’ve been very kind to me.”
I’m about to suggest that he needs to get out more when Will shakes his head fiercely at me. I glare at him and then turn back to Levi as he carries on talking. “I know I’m probably a bit boring.” My mouth drops open. “Because I work from home and don’t get out much. But it can get lonely, and I really like your company.” He pauses. “So, you’d be doing me a favour, really.”
For a second I actually believe him, and then I catch a glint in his eyes that makes me want to laugh. “Bullshit,” I scoff.
He sags slightly before rallying
. “Well, how about the fact that you can tell me more about what’s going on in the house?”
“Did you miss the part where I told you I can’t control it?”
Will jerks and looks startled. “You told him?”
Levi looks at Will curiously, and I hope the dim light is covering my red cheeks. “Yes,” I mutter. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Oh no,” Will agrees mildly. I scowl at him and turn back to Levi to find him looking curiously between me and Will. I open my mouth to send him packing.
“Please,” Levi says quietly. “Let me do this for you.”
And my words die away. No one has ever wanted to do something just for me. Will is my best mate, but it’s survival of the fittest around here. No one has ever wanted to do something for me simply because they can.
I stare at Levi for a long moment. The thing is I like him and that doesn’t happen often. He’s kind, funny, and a bit shy, and something else that I can’t put my finger on. And I want to be with him. The idea of staying in his house with him makes my stomach clench. I like talking to him. He doesn’t talk down to me, or he didn’t. My heart sinks as I wonder whether he’ll start now that he knows my history. I look at that handsome face and those earnest eyes, and I know he won’t. He isn’t that type of person.
Finally, I sigh. “Are you sure?”
He grins happily like he’s just allowed Jude Law to lodge in his house, not a semi-literate ex-prostitute.
“Really?” he says.
“Yes.” I hold my hand up. “But I will pay you rent.” He starts to argue but I shake my head. “That’s a deal breaker. I’ll pay you rent and the second you decide I’m overstaying my welcome, you’ll tell me.” He looks unsure, his kind eyes worried. “That’s an unbreakable condition,” I say firmly. “I overstay my welcome everywhere. I’d hate to be doing it at your house most of all.”
“Okay,” he says softly. “It’s a deal.”
“And you won’t argue when I leave, Levi?” I add. “I always leave.”
