One for Sorrow

by Louise Collins

  ****

  The film ended, and as the credits rolled, Romeo gave Chad an unimpressed look.

  “I need another beer after that.”

  “That shit scared?”

  Romeo smirked, getting to his feet. Chad’s neck chilled without Romeo’s arm.

  “Want one?”

  Chad nodded.

  He drank down another beer, and the haze of alcohol filled his head. He lifted Romeo’s arm, slung it over his shoulder, then leaned his face back on his pec.

  “I think two’s enough for you.”

  “With the painkillers, the recent illness—”

  “Shit,” Romeo hissed. “I shouldn’t be so careless with you.”

  “I’m fine,” Chad said, closing his eyes.

  “The drunken detective, that sounds like a movie’s title.”

  “Wanna know my best cases?”

  “Actually, yeah—”

  “Well tough.”

  “You can’t tease me like that—tell me one.”

  “One,” Chad said, prodding Romeo’s chest.

  “The murderer sent letters to his victims. And they died soon after they opened them. Poisoned.”

  “Gas released when you open the letter?”

  “No.”

  “Poison on the envelope, the paper, or the ink.”

  “Nope. Samples taken, no trace.”

  “It had nothing to do with the letters.”

  “Oh, it did.”

  Romeo hummed, then nudged Chad’s head with his chin. “Go on then, tell me.”

  “It took a while to work it out, but inside the envelope was a stamped addressed one for a reply. The victims wrote back, removed the strip on the other envelope, and licked it. Poison took about a day to take effect; the letter was gone, no obvious source of the toxin. We worked it out when someone died before they mailed the letter, literally led us straight to him.”

  “A poisonous pen pal.”

  “It was quite ingenious really, definitely one of the cleverest methods I’ve come across.”

  “I’m sorry my method wasn’t clever enough,” Romeo huffed.

  “Then there was the locked room.”

  “The locked room?” Romeo repeated into his hair.

  “There was this gymnasium. Thick brick walls, small windows. One door in, locked from the inside, and then the sound of a gunshot. The staff call the police, and they wait outside the door, no one goes in, or out of the gym, and the police arrive, break down the door, and find the victim.”

  “Suicide?”

  “There was no gun.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We ruled out suicide. No one shoots themselves in the chest when committing suicide, and where did the weapon go? And there was no lead up that suggested suicide. It was murder.”

  “The murderer must’ve been in there.”

  “The gym was empty, except for a trampoline.”

  “Under the trampoline.”

  Chad rolled his eyes. “We checked under there, genius.”

  “Maybe he used the trampoline to escape.”

  “What, he bounced through the ceiling to freedom?”

  “I don’t know, how did the killer get away then?”

  “You’ve got to guess. The crossword quiz genius can work it out.”

  “Right,” Romeo said. “Trapdoor?”

  “Nope.”

  “Windows?”

  “Too small and too high for a person to climb through.”

  “Air conditioning system.”

  “Still not it.”

  “I give up.”

  “I’ll leave it with you.”

  Romeo laughed, jogging Chad’s head on his chest. “You’re such a little shit, I’ll be thinking about it all night now.

  “It’s really quite simple.”

  “Course it is.”

  Chad snorted. The windows had been to small and too high for a person to climb in and out, but not for a drone to be flown through. He’d hated his math teacher, but not enough to trick him into gymnasium and shoot him with a drone.

  “What was the first case like?”

  Chad breathed heavily. “Nerve wracking. The build-up, the tension, and then the realization, the adrenaline when we made the arrest, and then the relief, the endorphins knowing you’ve done what you were supposed to. It’s … an addictive feeling.”

  “I can imagine,” Romeo whispered. “Why did you want to be a detective?”

  “I wanted to prove to myself I could be. I wanted to work my way up to the top. It doesn’t matter where you come from, the life you’ve had, all that matters is being a good person, and trying your best. Now I catch killers for a living, except this time, the killer caught me.”

  “And here you are, snuggled up to my chest.”

  Chad stiffened. “It’s certainly a first.”

  “And last I hope. You’re not to be so reckless next time you’re after killer, no going off to confront them on your own.”

  “You almost sound like you care.”

  “I do care.”

  Chad yawned into Romeo’s chest. “Of course you do…” he mumbled.

  “I think it’s time for bed. I’ll help you get ready.”

  “By ready, I’m hoping you mean you’ll drag me onto the mattress.”

  “I prefer the term, ‘carefully place you on the bed’.”

  That night Chad lay a little bit closer to Romeo, not touching, but close enough to feel his heat, and smell his scent.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Romeo undid Chad’s cuff, and the relief of him finally being back made Chad breathless. His only company had been the radio, softly playing classical FM. He vaguely remembered Kate had told him she left the radio on for her cats when she went to work because she didn’t want them to feel lonely. Chad had never understood until he’d been trapped in the farmhouse. Romeo left him with the radio on in the kitchen, and hearing the host’s voice, knowing it was live, was somehow more comforting than the TV, but nothing could compare to Romeo being home.

  “You took ages.”

  “Bad traffic, did you miss me?”

  “No, I just really needed a piss. Been killing me.”

  “Funny choice of words…”

  Chad narrowed his eyes.

  “Well you’re not exactly rushing off to the bathroom now I’m back.”

  Chad lifted himself up using the table, then used his crutches to get to the bathroom. He did need a piss, but not as desperately as he’d made out. He had a feeling Romeo knew he was exaggerating.

  He hobbled back into the kitchen after he was done and perched on the edge of the table.

  “There,” he said.

  “Aren’t you a clever boy?”

  Chad swung his crutch, clipping Romeo’s ankle.

  “Ouch … is fucking up my lip not enough?”

  Chad lowered his gaze.

  “I’m messing with you, Chad. Oh, and I’m choosing the movie tonight.”

  “Aliens Attack wasn’t as bad as you’re making out.”

  “Props awful. Plot awful. Special effects awful … acting … not bad.”

  “See, there you go—”

  “You had to be a good actor not to storm off set when you’re cast in that piece of trash.”

  “Well, I liked it.”

  Romeo stepped towards him, then brushed his fingers through Chad’s hair. He loved the feeling of Romeo’s fingers against his scalp, parting his hair; it made him all tingly and warm. Romeo didn’t notice Chad’s dozy expression, and he seemed to be searching for something in Chad’s hair.

  “What you doing?”

  “Looking for the bump on your head from where I knocked you out, obviously hasn’t healed…”

  “Screw you.”

  “If only you’d let me.”

  There was so much suggestion in Romeo’s tone, Chad stopped breathing. He leaned back, and Romeo’s hand fell from his hair. He tilted his head, studied Chad’s flushed appearance, the
n gestured to the bags.

  “I’m gonna need your help, onions to chop.”

  “I hate chopping the onions.”

  “But you’re so good at it.”

  “How about you do the onions, and I do everything else.”

  “You can’t stand for long.”

  “I can stand long enough to make…”

  “Tomato Bruschetta,” Romeo finished.

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Okay, I’ll chop the onion, and talk you through the rest of the dish.”

  “Deal.”

  ****

  It wasn’t easy with the painful leg. After Romeo had finished the onion, he hovered behind Chad, ready to catch him if he fell. A few times he held on to Chad’s hips, seemingly to steady him, but Chad suspected it was just an excuse to touch him.

  A song came on the radio, and Romeo stiffened, then flexed his hands on Chad’s hips. He only remembered it was still playing when Romeo reacted to the change in track.

  “What is it?”

  “I used to dance to this with my mum.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Thirteen. My dad hated dancing and wouldn’t go with her. I said I would, and she was so happy. Showed me off to all her friends.”

  Romeo tugged Chad away from the counter. “I’m chopping the tomatoes—”

  “In a minute,” Romeo said, encouraging Chad to turn.

  He ended up wrapping his arms around Romeo’s neck, and Romeo held on to his lower back. Romeo’s gaze found Chad’s lips, and he stared at them as they swayed to the music. Heat flared through Chad’s body, a nervousness took over him, and he thought of something to say to break the charged atmosphere.

  “Bet you didn’t dance with your mother like this.”

  Romeo ignored him and snaked his hand up to the back of Chad’s head, applying pressure. Chad thought he was going for a kiss and stiffened in anticipation, but instead he held Chad’s head close, so their cheeks were together as they swayed.

  Without Romeo’s gaze, Chad relaxed into his hold, allowing himself to be rocked back and forward in time with the song. Romeo’s steady heartbeat calmed his rampant one, and he ended up closing his eyes, clinging onto Romeo’s neck.

  When the song finished, and the next one started, they kept holding on and swaying. It was only when the advertisements came on the radio that Romeo lessened his grip. He kissed Chad’s cheek, so close to his lips they tingled at the contact. Chad still had his arms around him, still held onto him as their gazes met. His heart punched into life again, and he thought about how easy it would be to lean in. To apologize for the ugly swelling on his lip by kissing it better. Romeo’s stomach grumbled against Chad’s. They both looked down, and Romeo smirked.

  “That’s one way to break the atmosphere…”

  Chad detached himself from Romeo and clung onto the counter. He took a few deep breaths, feeling Romeo’s gaze on him, then managed to calm down.

  “You need to stop doing that.”

  “What?”

  “Trying to kiss me, complicating things, confusing this.”

  “There’s no complications on my side, but just to make it absolutely clear. I want you, Chad, all of you.”

  “You can’t have me.”

  Romeo sighed. “And you want me, too, so ask yourself, who’s the one being complicated and confusing things?”

  Chad stared at the stove. “It’s not gonna cook itself.”

  “Very true.”

  Chad fried the tomatoes, garlic, and onion, toasted the bread, then served it up with a sprinkling of rocket. He wasn’t a natural chef, but it at least looked edible.

  He grinned when he presented it to Romeo, and they both sat down at the table, like they’d done every day for the past month. They ate in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Chad was content being near Romeo, especially after he’d been gone for hours that morning.

  “Thank you for making me lunch,” Romeo said.

  Chad blinked out of his blissful feeling and glanced at Romeo on the other side of the table. He’d just made him dinner and hadn’t even thought about using the knives as weapons or attempting to slip something in Romeo’s meal. He’d made Romeo a meal, because he wanted to. He wanted to sit down opposite him, and Romeo to compliment him.

  “Chad?”

  He lurched forward, shaking his head. “Sorry, the leg…”

  “Have you taken your painkiller yet?”

  Chad frowned. It had been over six hours since he’d had the last one, so he couldn’t even blame his complacency with Romeo on the drugs in his system. Romeo reached across the table, pressing his hand to Chad’s forehead.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine… Do you mind if I go sit in the other room?”

  “You don’t have to ask; this place is as much yours as it is mine now.”

  Chad got up and hurried out of the kitchen. He found himself on the mattress again, staring up at the flaky living room ceiling. He only had to look at the walls, or flick on the TV to remind him about Romeo, but he couldn’t do it. The Romeo he knew was different from the monster on TV.

  “No, he’s not,” Chad growled at himself. “It’s all a game to him, and I’m losing.”

  He heard chopping outside. Romeo splitting logs for the fire. The one they lay side by side in front of at night, on the very bed Chad was on, doing his best to sort through his mash of feelings. How could he like someone he was fundamentally supposed to hate?

  Chad didn’t know how much time had passed, but Romeo came into the room, hugging a stack of logs. He placed them down, then towered over Chad. He was heaving, and his muscles were extra defined from the dirt from the logs. Sweat and mud covered his face, and his hair was a mess. Chad closed his eyes not to look at him; it was hard enough working out his emotions without adding lust to the mix.

  Romeo left the room, and Chad let out a long sigh, reopening his eyes. He regretted it when Romeo walked straight back in and dropped to his knees on the bed. He shuffled up, then rolled on his back next to Chad.

  “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

  He held something up, blocking Chad’s view of the ceiling, and his eyes readjusted on a photograph.

  A photograph of a raven-haired boy, and a magpie perched on his hand. A boy with big green eyes, and a smile that showed off the silver braces on his teeth. Chad’s lust vanished, but his curiosity doubled.

  “You and the magpie.”

  “Yeah.”

  He passed the picture to Chad, and he held it above them. “There really was a magpie?”

  “What the hell did you think I was on about?”

  “I dunno, I thought you were just telling me a story to get in my head, trying to torment me.”

  “Not everything is about you.”

  Chad’s lips twitched into a lopsided smile, and he snorted.

  “You look happy?” he said, with his attention fixed on Romeo’s mouth. His smile dazzled, lifting his cheeks, framing his eyes.

  “I am happy,” Romeo whispered.

  “I mean the haircut is … tragic.”

  Romeo laughed. “It was fashionable, the whole choppy, uneven look.”

  “Did you do it yourself?”

  “No, no, I didn’t,” Romeo said, poking Chad with his elbow. “And you’re one to talk. Your hair’s a mess at the moment.”

  “Take me to the barber then.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  Chad moved his attention to the magpie. Not the battered one he’d pictured in his head, with missing feathers and sore patches. It was huge, and the white feathers of its chest contrasted with the oil-slick black ones of its tale.

  “Wait, who took the picture? You said no one knew about it.”

  “I said my father didn’t know, but my mother noticed I’d been acting strangely, at any opportunity disappearing to the shed. She probably feared I was taking drugs or something. When she opened the door, and I explained, she was so relieved, then
impressed.” Romeo sighed. “I don’t know why, but her being impressed about the magpie made me feel good, better than the painting, or the good manners. I explained about how I splinted his wing with sticks, and caught him worms, and snails. I told her I washed it, stroked it, and it had become affectionate. She tried to touch it, but it squawked, scared of her, that made me feel even better. It was loyal to me. It was our bond, still wild to others, but tame to me.”

  “I knew it. I knew you weren’t completely heartless like you sai—”

  “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. You know how it ends. The magpie won me over, that’s all. At first, I’d wanted to heal it, so we’d continue playing our game with the eggs, but then I manipulated it, made it get attached to me. I wasn’t expecting it to go both ways. I wasn’t expecting to want to keep it, to enjoy it sitting on my shoulder, or it grooming my hair, or feeding it, but I did.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I showed my mother how it could fly again, and she said it was ready to be released. I should let it go; it was the right thing to do. For a fifteen-year-old boy, who knew he was different, not quite right, not like everyone else, all I wanted to do was to fit in. That overwhelming desire to appear normal, to do something normal, for the right reason, but I didn’t want to let it go. I didn’t want to say goodbye. It was like losing a piece of me.”

  “I know the feeling,” Chad whispered.

  “I didn’t sleep for days, caught between what I wanted to do, and what I knew was the right thing. Just because I’m different, doesn’t mean I wanted to be. I wanted to feel the same way about death, love, cruelty, affection as everyone else, but I was twisted, my head’s twisted. I wanted to keep the magpie, but I wanted to be normal as well.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I killed it.”

  “Do you regret killing it?”

  “What’s the point in regret? I did it.”

  “But you cared about it.”

  “Still killed it though.”

  Romeo sighed, taking the picture from Chad. “So there it is, there’s the magpie. It was only fair I showed you this after I’d seen Toby.”