by Dawn Sister
“No problem.” I don’t even stammer I’m so taken aback by her reaction.
“Well, I gotta go.” She snaps out of her pensive mood and is suddenly bright and breezy. “I’m catering for a wedding at the weekend, and I have one hundred and fifty individual cupcakes to ice before Friday. I’ll see you around, Niall. Come over anytime, although come to the front door, I don’t think you’ll manage to fit under the fence the way Zen does.” She giggles as she waves goodbye and walks across to her drive.
As I watch her disappear through her front door, I feel a bit like I’ve been swept away by a tsunami. She and Zak might look nothing like each other but they could both compete for England when it comes to talking. I wish I could be a fly on the wall in that house when they get started. It must be noisy. Do I really want to take her up on the offer of coffee? I might not have any ears left, because they’ll both have talked them off.
Chapter 6
In which Zak is quite chivalrous
and I’m a little sarcastic
“I hear you spoke to Mom,” Zak mentions as he enters the house later that evening and takes up his usual position on the kitchen bench.
“Y-yes, although she spoke, I listened.”
Zak rolls his eyes in embarrassment, which makes me laugh.
“Yeah, my mom can talk up a storm.”
I raise my eyebrows and regard him over the top of my glasses. He snorts.
“Yeah, okay, I know I can talk too, but Mom holds the record. Where do you think I acquired the skill?”
“You m-mean you actually stopped t-to listen f-for a moment so you could learn something?”
“Hey, less of the sarcasm, mister. I know stuff. I know when to stop and listen.”
This time, I roll my eyes, and he chuckles before jumping down and making more of a fuss of Zen.
For a moment I watch them both with a smile on my face, but I mostly watch Zak. I am absolutely certain he is using Zen as a reason to avoid my next question, which I am sure he knows I’m going to ask.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re gay?” I tip my head to one side.
He looks up at me with a startled expression before quickly recovering as he stands, thrusting his hands in his pockets.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re gay?” He raises his eyebrows as I narrow mine.
“I h-have an excuse. It would h-have taken me all d-d-day. G’s and H’s are n-nasty,” I point out, emphasising a stutter as I do. “Y-you t-talk constantly, yet y-you never t-told me you’re gay. That n-never came up, not once.”
He shrugs and shuffles his feet uncomfortably. He looks unhappy, or maybe he looks uncertain; that’s a better way of putting it. But why? Does he think I’m angry with him? Lord knows, I understand why he didn’t tell me.
“Your mum told me about the trouble you had where you lived before you came here.”
Again Zak shrugs as if it’s a minor problem. but I see the pain that flashes across his face. It lingers in his eyes and joins other hurt and pain that runs deeper than just the trouble he had with homophobes.
There are other things Zak never talks to me about, and one of them is his dad. He mentioned he doesn’t talk about him at home because it upsets his mum, but in five weeks, he has only mentioned the man twice. Is he just taking time to open up? Does he need an assurance that I’ll listen? He surely knows that I will. I’m hard-pressed to get a word in some days.
“Y-you know if you e-ever want to talk about anything, Zak, I’m here,” I offer. He doesn’t appear to have anyone else.
I know he’ll find his own circle of friends eventually, but until then I’ll be here for him while he needs me.
Zak heaves a sigh, and it’s a shaky sigh; I guess his emotions are as raw as his mother’s are right now. I wonder if his being here, and talking nonstop is a coping mechanism.
“Thanks, Niall,” he replies after what seems like an abnormal length of silence for him.
I pat his arm and nod as I walk away to put the kettle on.
Zak resumes the fuss he was making over Zen. Sometimes I think he uses Zen as an excuse not to look at me or to avoid sensitive subjects. Or maybe he’s using Zen as a comfort blanket. Either way, he and Zen both seem to benefit from the contact.
“So, are we taking Niall out for a walk tonight, Zen?” I hear Zak stage-whisper to my dog.
I groan, because Zak knows by now that when that word is mentioned in Zen’s presence the dog goes mental. He is currently running around in circles, yapping and jumping in excitement.
And what did he mean, taking Niall out for a walk? Huh! I could take offence at that, but then Zak smiles at me, and Zen jumps about my heels. Both of them regard me with those puppy-dog eyes that I can’t resist, and I just shake my head and laugh.
“Come on, Zen,” Zak calls as he jumps up and runs out of the kitchen. “Let’s get ready, buddy.” He glances back at me with another one of those smiles, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.
I remember what Rachel said and what I promised her. I really do want to protect him, but as what? His friend? His neighbour? I can’t surely be anything more than that, can I? Knowing he’s gay for definite opens up certain possibilities, but our age gap is a barrier, surely, and anyway, Rachel didn’t mean that kind of protection, did she?
“Hey, Niall, come on. We’re getting a bit impatient out here, dude,” Zak calls from the hall, jerking me out of my daydream.
“Huh, I was about to make some coffee.” I huff.
As I emerge from the kitchen, I stop in mid-grouch. Zak is holding my jacket out to me, his smile as bright as ever. I slide my arms in, and he settles it on my shoulders, smoothing it down for me. That’s…well…very unexpected and chivalrous.
“Th-thank you.” I smile up at him, and he regards me, biting his lip as if he has something to say.
He’s still smoothing down the sleeve of my jacket, which is making my arm tingle now. He flicks a piece of dust from the fabric, brushing it to remove any remnants.
“You know, you’re not the only one who can listen, Niall, right?” He looks like he’s—oh, he is! He’s blushing. Oh! He searches my face waiting for me to respond, his cheeks coloured with the loveliest blush I’ve ever seen. “I always have time if you need someone to talk to.”
I am overwhelmed by feelings I just can’t process. What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing neighbour? He is always so patient, past the point where others might have given up and finished the sentence for me. He’s just a lovely young man.
I smile and nod, patting his arm as I move past him to get to the door.
“I kn-know you do. Th-thanks.”
Chapter 7
In which Zak assumes I am an axe murderer
“How come you live in this big house all on your own, Niall?”
Zak is currently perched on my kitchen bench, swinging his legs like a kid, except his legs are almost long enough to reach the ground, and they are quite a bit more hairy than a child’s legs might be in the long beach shorts he’s wearing. They’re also quite well defined, muscle-wise. He’s barefoot too. His feet, like his hands, are slender and elegant. It’s all very distracting.
I try to focus on cooking dinner without burning anything.
“N-not always on my own,” I finally manage to reply to his query.
It isn’t often he asks me a direct question like that. It’s not that he isn’t curious; he just has other ways of getting the information from me. This time, he took me by surprise. I need time to formulate an answer.
“Did you live with someone?” His eyes are alive with curiosity.
“Yeah.” I deliberately don’t meet his eye, concentrating on my sauce even though it doesn’t need such close attention.
I knew this would come up eventually, and he can’t exactly do any detective work because I don’t keep any photographs or evidence of my previous partner anywhere that Zak has access to.
“So, was it a guy, or a girl?” Zak helps himself to som
e chocolate raisins from a bowl on the bench beside him, as if he’s at the movies. He doesn’t seem to think the question is in any way unusual. Why would he ask that?
“G-guy,” I reply, wrinkling my nose, still extremely interested in my sauce. “You know I’m gay.” I can feel the tips of my ears getting very hot.
“Well, I didn’t wanna make assumptions here, Niall. Maybe you just came out, and the girl left because you did, or maybe you’re bi. I don’t know.”
“I’m not bi. I lived with a man for ten years. His name was G-Greg.”
“What happened?” Zak pops another handful of raisins in his mouth, not fazed in the least to hear how long I was with my ex. His tone has changed, though; it’s less curious and more gentle, or is that my imagination? “Did he leave? Was he an asshole and you kicked him out? Did he have an affair? Did you have an affair? Did you murder him and bury him underneath the patio? What?”
“No, I did not murder him!” I laugh at the outrageous statement, certain now that I imagined the change in his tone. Zak shrugs.
“I don’t know that. This is England. You hear about these things happening all the time. Some mild-mannered, gentle soul takes too much crap, and they eventually snap and murder their partner. Maybe he was an abusive pisshead, and you brained him with the iron one night. Or maybe you hacked him to pieces with a blunt axe.”
“Zak!” I chuckle helplessly. “You have been watching far too many soap operas and horror movies.”
Zak jumps down from the bench and makes a fuss of Zen who is chilling in his basket.
“Hey, little buddy, you look completely wrecked.”
He always knocks me sideways with his tendency to suddenly change the subject.
“You ran his legs off, I think.” I smile down at them both, a little relieved the twenty questions about Greg have ceased. “He loves it when you take him out on a run.”
Zak smiles back at me, and as always all of the air is sucked from the room. Fighting the need to grab hold of something for support because my knees have gone weak, I turn back to my sauce. It had better not get a damn lump in it, because I’ve never been so attentive of a cheese sauce before.
“So, tell me what happened to your ex-boyfriend, Niall.”
Zak is standing right beside me now. Not invading my space—he never does—but he’s close enough for me to think I could invade his if I wanted to. It makes my skin tingle. Thankfully, he’s completely oblivious to the effect he has on me. I’m sure he wouldn’t stand so close if he knew.
“W-what’s t-to tell?” I reply to his demand. “H-he was an arse.”
“So, you kicked him out?”
“He had an affair. It was the straw that broke the donkey’s back,” I explain.
“Affair?” The way he says the word I can tell he’s outraged. He does seem the type to find infidelity unacceptable.
“That w-was one thing on the list.”
“He sounds charming.” Zak screws up his nose in disgust. “How long ago?”
“F-five years now.”
“And you’ve been on your own all that time?” He sounds surprised, as if this is something that is somehow more outrageous than the fact someone was unfaithful. Why would he be so outraged?
“N-not on my own.”
Why is he pushing this? He’s never asked before now. Was he just looking for the right moment? I suppose if I’m expecting him to open up about his past, then I should tell him a little about mine, not that it is in any way interesting.
“So in those five years you’ve had boyfriends?” I shake my head because there’s been no one since Greg. He left a wound that took a long time to heal and a scar that will probably be with me forever.
“No boyfriends.”
“Girlfriends?” Zak continues to fish, and I screw up my nose and shake my head vigorously, frowning in bemusement. He shrugs and smirks. “Is that because you were afraid someone would get too close and discover the body underneath the patio?”
“Zak!” I laugh out loud, taking the towel I was wiping the bench with and flicking his leg with it. He yelps and leaps out of my reach, giggling. “I did not murder my ex-boyfriend. You are welcome to dig up the patio just to prove there isn’t a body there.”
“That doesn’t prove anything, mister!” He places his hands on his hips and arches his eyebrows. “That just means you hid the body somewhere else.” He flicks his eyebrows suggestively, and I laugh harder, my sides hurting. “I’ll just have to tread carefully so I don’t get the same treatment.”
I click my tongue and shake my head in mock disgust, turning my attention back to the sauce, which is ready. I take it off the heat and take the macaroni to the sink to drain.
“Have you really been on your own for five years?” Zak is still stuck on this, and I have no idea why he finds it so fascinating. “Didn’t you ever get lonely?”
“I was f-for a while but then I got Zen, and w-we’re good.” I look down at my sweet-natured Jack Russell, and he wags his little stump of a tail at the mention of his name.
Zen was my life-saver when I thought I couldn’t bear another day of feeling so damn lonely, but I don’t tell Zak this; he doesn’t need to know how pathetic I was after Greg left.
Zak’s questions seem to have come to an end, thankfully. He makes more fuss of my tired dog while I pour the cheese sauce over the macaroni, mix it and put it in the oven to finish it off.
Zak is muttering to Zen, and I sometimes get the impression he tells my dog things he would never tell anyone else, not even me. I guess his secrets are safe with Zen, though. It’s not as if he could tell me what Zak whispers to him. Sometimes, like just now, I get the impression they are discussing me in depth. There are plenty of secrets Zen could tell about me, I’m certain.
Chapter 8
In which I would happily
become an axe murderer
“Hey, Niall?” Zak calls from the entrance hall.
I’ve taken to leaving the front door unlocked whenever I discover Zen has made one of his escapes beneath the garden fence. I know it’s never long before Zak appears, bringing my errant dog home.
“In the kitchen, making coffee!” I reply. I’d just decided to take a break. Zak’s timing is perfect.
Zak is preceded into the kitchen by my wayward Jack Russell, who comes running in looking very smug. I chuckle.
“Hello, boy. Have you been for an extra walk today?”
“He turned up on our deck with a ball. How could I refuse?” Zak grins as he enters the kitchen. I grin back, holding up a mug as a question. He nods and takes up his usual perch on the bench beside me. “Oh, yes, please!”
Zak’s phone rings, and he glances at the screen before groaning, jumping down off the bench and giving me an apologetic look.
“I’m really sorry, Niall, I have to take this.” He grimaces. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with this asshole for weeks now.”
“Oh, of c-course.” I wave away his concerns, frowning as he retreats into the conservatory. He doesn’t look or sound at all happy about whoever is trying to call him.
I take my coffee and wander back into my office with Zen at my heels for a change.
It’s not long before my ears tune in to Zak’s half of the conversation. It’s not like I’m making an effort to eavesdrop; he isn’t exactly being quiet.
“You were fucking him, Daniel, all the time we were together. How is that not cheating on me?” Zak shouts. “And it doesn’t matter who told me. That’s not the point really, is it? The point is you thought I wouldn’t find out when I’m living halfway across the world? You know there is such a thing as Facebook over here as well? You changed your relationship status from single to in a relationship. Did you think I wouldn’t see and work out who you were in a relationship with?”
There’s a pause where I assume the guy Zak is shouting at is explaining himself, or backing himself into a corner, I don’t know.
“I know it’s none of my business now,” he co
ntinues, sounding more upset than angry now. “But it was my business when you and I were still together, and you swore there wasn’t anything going on between you and him. You’re an asshole, Dan, you always were. I just deluded myself that you would change for me. I hope for his sake you’ll change for him.”
I hear the catch in his voice, and there’s another pause. Zen gives me a quizzical look. With a quick hand gesture, I send my dog to Zak, since it sounds like he needs some canine support right now. If I could send Zen down the phone to bite this Daniel bloke on the arse I would happily do it.
Zak’s whispered greeting of Zen is interrupted by his need to reply to what is becoming a rather heated discussion now.
“Yeah?” Zak snarls. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, Daniel fucking Masters, but I am the wronged party here.” This pause hangs heavy, and is quickly followed by Zak’s retort, “And fuck you too.”
Well, that sounded very final.
Zak growls loudly in frustration, and I hear what I think is his phone being thrown down onto the wicker sofa in my conservatory. Zen yips, then Zak appears at my office door, looking a lot less cheerful and a lot more flushed than before.
“Everything okay?” I ask in concern.
Zak grimaces. “You heard, huh?”
I shrug in an attempt to allay his anxiety. I really hadn’t meant to overhear. I’d just been worried about him. “I, er, wasn’t listening.”
Zak narrows his eyes, “The hell you weren’t, Niall. You have listening down to a fine art. You’d get a gold medal if it was an Olympic event.”
“Yeah, well, s-sorry.” I am barely able to contain a snort. “I-I didn’t m-mean to.” Zak chuckles, the anger gone from his eyes.
“I’m not angry if you overheard. I’m just sorry you had to hear it at all. I had to speak to him. I’ve been getting his voicemail for days, and he eventually graced me with a live call so…” He shrugs, twisting his mouth awkwardly. “I needed the closure…if my language got bad, I’m sorry!”
“D-don’t apologise.” I try to reassure him I’m not offended in the least. His language was probably tame compared to the language I used when I kicked Greg out of my life.
