“Am I invited?” he asked.
That threw her. For too long a moment she didn’t speak. “Darling, do you think it’s a good idea? It would be a lot for you to cope with. All the attention. I’d hate for you to be distressed.”
Like you’d hate to have to introduce me to your royal guests? “Did you hate that I was distressed in prison?”
“Not prison. You were in a Young Offender Institution.”
He sighed. “Still prison.”
“Yes, of course I hated it.”
“Do you think I deserved to be there?” Caspian held his breath.
“Absolutely not.”
“When did you find out what Lachlan had done?”
“When you wouldn’t come home and wanted to stay in… prison on remand, I couldn’t understand why. Lachlan told me the truth. He was so upset. I knew in not coming home, you were punishing us.” Her shoulders fell. “I was very angry with Lachlan but what was done was done.”
“Angry with Lachlan and not our father?” Caspian gaped at her.
“What choice did your father have?”
Why had he hoped she’d feel differently to that? “Want to ask me what it was like inside?”
She glanced at him. “I tried to come and see you. You were the one who didn’t want to see any of us.”
“I didn’t want to distress you,” Caspian said.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Oh, Mother. Can’t you hear my sarcasm? There was no point telling her what had happened to him today, how he’d been treated in the villages, how he’d been so crippled by panic he’d felt trapped in another reality with the only outcome death. She’d reach for the phone and call for a psychiatrist. Probably try and get him committed. Make him disappear so he wasn’t a problem anymore.
He should tell her he was gay. What would her reaction be to that? He wanted to tell her. Maybe not when she was driving. He was nervous enough in a car as it was.
They started at Polo Ralph Lauren and Caspian was a good little boy and tried on everything his mother picked out, even emerging from the changing rooms for her yes or no. To be fair, he mostly agreed with what she selected, and she did allow him to choose a few things. He verged on enjoying himself but there was still that niggle of anxiety eating at his gut, worry about what life held for him. When she pulled out her American Express card, he let her pay. As he did in every store. He was astounded you could spend over two hundred pounds and still get asked for five pence for each plastic bag. Something else that had happened while he’d been locked up.
As they made their way around the leaf-shaped shopping centre, the pathway sheltered from the elements by a sweeping tented roof, Caspian tried to pluck up the courage to tell her he was gay. He’d thought he could just say it, but it hadn’t proved that easy. At least he had no sensation of an imminent panic attack while he dithered. They’d made it almost all the way around the shops before Caspian finally said, “By the way. I’m gay.”
His mother turned. “So you’re not marrying Poppy Dennison?”
He smiled, and for once it was genuine. “No, I won’t be marrying Poppy Dennison.”
“Thank goodness for that. She has no dress sense.”
Caspian ate on his own that night. Everyone was out. A pizza from the freezer, topped with a whole packet of Parma ham. It was delicious. As was the glass of wine he’d helped himself to from a bottle next to the fridge. He played his guitar for a while, struggling with the transition back to electric. He showered—just because he could—then lay in bed trying to figure out how to handle whatever might happen tomorrow.
Zed might tell him to fuck off, in which case that’s what he’d do. Maybe that was the best-case scenario. If Zed tried to hug him, Caspian might hit him. He wouldn’t mean to, but he might. After all this time spent not letting anyone touch him, maybe he couldn’t flip the switch back to on.
But should he knock on the door and let Zed see him? Or call him and tell him? Text him? Let Zed discover who he was for himself?
At four thirty in the morning, after a bad night, he headed across the fields dressed in his dirty jeans and a too-tight white T-shirt to work on Zed’s garden. He was halfway there before he realised Zed might have locked the shed, but he arrived to find the padlock hanging loose. You should have escaped while you had the chance, wheelbarrow. At least Zed’s car was there.
The sun came up as he worked on the borders, pulling and digging up weeds. Maybe this was something he could do, gardening work. Except he was already bored, he knew next to nothing about flowers and his back ached. For all he knew, he’d been pulling up things that had been planted rather than plants that had invaded.
By nine, when there was still no sign of Zed, Caspian’s nerves wouldn’t let him wait any longer. He’d run their conversation over and over in his head in so many variations that he felt sick. He pulled the mower out of the shed, breathed a sigh of relief when it started on the first pull, and he began to cut the lawn. The grass was still long and he kept having to empty the collection bag but each time he turned to start another row, he thought how good it was beginning to look. Pale but neat. No longer wild but tamed.
He was on the last stretch when he realised the bifold doors were open and Zed stood there watching him. Caspian’s heart bounced on his stomach. He pushed the mower to the end of the lawn and switched it off. When he turned, Zed was right behind him.
“You missed a bit,” Zed said.
“I left that for you to do.”
Zed smiled.
Shit, my heart. Caspian took a shaky breath. “I spent most of the night and all of this morning trying to think what to say when we stood in front of one another.”
“What did you come up with?”
“Nice weather we’re having.”
Zed laughed. “Always a safe topic of conversation.”
“Along with… How’ve you been? What are you doing here? Read any good books lately? Got a holiday planned? Where did you get that T-shirt—those jeans—those shoes? How was uni? Are you working? Do you like it? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you married? Do you have kids? Do you want your marble back?” He held it out. “Do you believe in vampires?”
Zed raised his eyebrows. “Do you want a drink?”
“Oh, I never thought of that one.”
“Drinking from the hose isn’t a good idea.”
“You saw me?” Caspian whispered.
“I was watching from the upstairs window.”
“Why didn’t you come down if you knew it was me?”
“I knew it was you in the shop.”
Caspian huffed. “And the no worries gave me away, didn’t it? And it’s such a fucking lie. All I have are worries.”
You’re here, in front of me and it’s as if we were never apart except we were apart and everything has changed. But you haven’t. You’re still the guy I—oh fuck. Caspian swallowed hard.
“Orange juice?” Zed asked.
Caspian nodded.
“The marble is yours for always,” Zed said.
He watched as Zed went back into the house. Featuring strongly in his —what might happen tomorrow/today— musings, had been the thought that Zed might just throw himself into his arms. Maybe that was asking for too much. No maybes about it. It was. He’d told Zed to fuck off, that he’d hooked up with his cellmate, that he’d thrown away the letters, sold the MP3 player. Caspian pulled the MP3 player out of his pocket, put it on the patio table and waited to see what Zed would say.
Does he forgive me? Does he want me?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zed’s hands shook as he took two glasses from the cupboard and poured out the orange juice. He’d been woken by the sound of the mower, checked it was Caspian—though who else would it be—then lay back in bed trying to figure out what he was going to say. Apparently, Caspian had the same problem. Oh fuck. He looked too thin, too pale, too anxious. Still gorgeous but his confidence had gone. His spark wasn’t there. There’d been a hint of
it in that vampire comment but maybe it was too much to expect things to be like they were without them having to even talk. Zed wanted to put everything right, but he didn’t know if he could.
He took the drinks outside and swallowed hard when he saw the MP3 player on the table. Caspian had left him the clean chair and was sitting on a dirty one.
“You didn’t sell it.” Zed put the glasses on the table and sat down.
“It’s a miracle it still works. I got through hundreds of AAA batteries. I would never have sold it. When I was down, I listened to your voice. That was my favourite song. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
Zed laughed. I should have known. Had I not guessed? He dragged his finger up and down the condensation on his glass.
“You understand why I had to say all that.” Caspian’s voice cracked as he spoke. “I couldn’t ask you to wait. Not for four years. And it might have been more. Days were added to sentences all the time. I was careful but it was easy to get blamed for stuff you weren’t involved with. That had already happened to me. A fight. Something contraband found near me. Someone lying about what I’d done. It was like walking on a tightrope all the time. It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to wait. But it wouldn’t have been fair.”
“You’re right. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask me, but you still should have. You could have said—don’t wait, see other guys but when I come out if you’re not with someone, come and find me. And I’d have said, I’ve already found the one I want.”
Caspian groaned.
Zed wanted to hold him but wrapped his hand around the glass instead. “I was hurt even though I’d figured out you were doing the same as you’d done before. Setting me free when you couldn’t be free. That first time, I kept on writing to you anyway, but the second time, after you’d been sentenced, it was pointed out to me that if I continued to write, telling you about all the things you couldn’t do for the next four years, reminding you of what you were missing, then I’d be the one hurting you.”
“I was scared that one day you wouldn’t want to write anymore, that you’d find someone else. I wasn’t sure I could bear knowing that. I felt guilty too. It was hard not to obsess about the fact that I’d brought this on myself, that if I’d pleaded guilty, expressed remorse, there would have been a chance I’d not even have been put inside. Or at least, not for long. All I’ve emerged with is a warped sense of pride that I never did admit to something I didn’t do, but the price I’ve paid wasn’t worth it. I’m not defiant, I’m broken.”
“Then we’ll get you mended.”
Caspian gave him a sad smile. “Can’t mend those girls though. However bad I felt, I thought of them and their families. If I hadn’t run away, if—”
“If we’d never met. I know. But we can’t bring them back. We can’t change the past. Both of us will always remember what happened. I’ll always be angry with Lachlan and your father, but this is your life. Your time. What’s done is done. A price has been paid by the wrong person, but it’s been paid. It’s over.”
“Only as long as I behave myself for the next five years. Free but not free. I’m not even allowed to spend the night away from Barton Hall unless I get permission. Not allowed to work without permission. Not allowed to go abroad without permission and I’ll never be allowed in some countries because I have a criminal record. I’ll never be allowed to adopt. Never be allowed to do a lot of things. And by the way, I never intended you to pay me for tidying the garden. If you’re ever asked, I’m just doing you a favour… So has your father died?”
“Yes. I’ve come to sort out his affairs, clean up the house and put it on the market.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“Abroad.”
“Not coming home?”
“Not yet.” Before, Zed would have told Caspian about the will, but he kept quiet.
“How do you feel about your father dying?”
“Indifferent. I hadn’t seen him since the night before I left. The last thing he did was beat me. Why should I be sorry he’s gone?”
“I’m glad he’s dead. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. I wouldn’t have seen you in the shop, wouldn’t have picked up your card, wouldn’t be talking to you.”
Zed put his glass down. “I would have come to find you once I’d known you were out. You wouldn’t have been able to find me.”
“I googled you.”
“And you couldn’t find me.”
“No.”
“I have a new name. Zayne Mallinson.”
“To keep you safe. Are you safe? I couldn’t let myself think that you might not be.”
“The past four years have been…”
“Tell me.”
“Brilliant.”
“I’m glad. I really am.” Caspian exhaled. “Tell me about them.”
“I still live with those two guys I told you about, Jonas and Henry. Henry just asked Jonas to marry him. We arranged a flash mob in Trafalgar Square with the London Symphony Orchestra that Jonas plays in. I really like the pair of them. Not like. Love. I love them. I think being with them saved me. Their kindness helped me when I grieved over you. I carried on living with them while I was at university.”
“What did you study? Music?”
“No. Computer science and maths.”
“I bet you got a first.”
Zed smiled. “Yep, I did.”
“Do you have a job lined up?”
“Maybe but I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’m in a band. We might be getting somewhere. Our music’s online. We have a manager now and a booking agent.”
“That’s great.” Caspian drained the glass, set it down on the table and pushed to his feet.
Zed knew he was losing him. “Don’t go.” He stood up. “I’ve not read any good books lately. I’ve been too busy revising. No holiday planned. I got my T-shirt, jeans and shoes from Next. Uni was great. Hard work but interesting. I’m not married. I don’t have kids and I don’t believe in vampires. Did I answer them all?” He knew he hadn’t.
“I’m…glad you’re okay.”
“Did I say I was okay?”
Caspian’s eyes widened. “Aren’t you?” He winced. “Sorry. Your father’s just died. Your brother’s not here. You’re having to deal with all this crap on your own. ‘Course you’re not okay.”
“My father’s left everything to Tamaz.” Shit. That slipped out. “But no one has to know that. It’s a secret, okay? I don’t give a crap about him leaving me nothing, but it annoys me he still has the power to hurt me even after the bastard died. But that’s not why I’m not okay.”
“My father…” Caspian sucked in a breath. “He’s acting as if I’ve been away at summer camp. He promised he’d make it up to me when I got out and he’s already told me he won’t back one of my inventions. He wants me to marry Poppy Dennison, the daughter of a friend of his. He’s fucking delusional. Poppy and me are completely incompatible. She doesn’t have a cock. Well, I don’t think she does.”
Zed laughed.
“Yesterday I told my mother I was gay. She was… all right about it. But I have to tell my father myself. I think it might be easier to dress in pink and wear eyeliner and I know that’s clichéd and unfair. But he might get the message without me having to say anything. Then again…”
They were talking about everything but the one thing that mattered.
“There was one more question to answer,” Zed said.
“Was there? Did I remember to ask what you thought about global warming?”
“Caspian.” Zed took one step toward him and when Caspian moved backwards, Zed froze.
“Sorry,” Caspian whispered. “Instinct.”
“I’ve only ever wanted one guy,” Zed said. “He’s the only one I’ve had a relationship with.”
Caspian closed his eyes and shuddered before he opened them again. “Does he make you happy?”
“Yeah, and he makes me sad.”
“Dump him. You need someone who makes
you happy all the time.”
“He’s tried to dump me twice but I’m stubborn.”
Zed watched Caspian’s face as realisation finally sank in.
“You haven’t been with anyone?” Caspian whispered. “Are they fucking crazy? You’re gorgeous.”
“I’ve turned everyone down.”
Caspian let out a howl of pain and despair, some primal sound that tugged at Zed’s heart. “Fuuuuck, Zed.”
“Now are you going to tell me that you hooked up with someone inside, that you’re waiting for him to get out so you can set up home and suffer the torture of Ikea together? Or that you were…you were forced to do stuff that—”
“No, I’m not. No, I wasn’t. Fuck.” Caspian clenched his fists. “I want to do this again. Meet you again. I’m going to walk around the corner and come back and we’re going to pretend we’re meeting for the first time in four years and we’re going to do it properly this time and if I freak out, and I might, because no one has touched me, even put a hand on my shoulder without me getting pissed off or upset or worse, I want you to keep holding me. If you can.
“I might even panic, I panicked yesterday and I thought I was going to die. Literally die. I felt as if I’d been pulled into the heart of a thunderstorm. That might happen again, I’m not sure, but don’t let me go. Please.” He gasped for breath after delivering all that at breakneck speed, then disappeared around the corner.
For too long a moment, Zed wondered if he was going to come back. But then Caspian reappeared and as he walked towards him, Zed set off to meet him. Even in his desperation to pull Caspian into his arms, Zed remembered what he’d just told him and let Caspian take the lead.
Caspian put out his hand. “Delighted to meet you again.”
Zed laughed. He’s coming back to me. “The pleasure’s all mine.”
“No, it’s not. It’s really not.”
Then they were in each other’s arms and Zed couldn’t have said who grabbed who first. Zed kissed him with all the passion and love he’d had locked up inside since he’d last seen him. Their tongues tangled as they ate at each other. Caspian clutched Zed’s back, then his hips and they rocked together, holding each other tight, kissing until neither of them could breathe. They pulled back with choked laughs.
The Story of Us Page 33
