Kieran peered up at the loft. A waist-height glass balcony and heavy white curtain—currently opened—partitioned the bedroom from the living room. If Kennedy brought someone back, Kieran would be able to hear everything.
“For all your bravado, you are quite gullible at times,” laughed Kennedy, heading towards the window. “Relax, I’m only kidding. The last time I got lucky, Tony Blair was still Prime Minister.”
Not for the first time, Kieran took in the man and had a hard time believing he’d have difficulty getting laid. Classically handsome, and someone who clearly looked after his body, he screamed sophistication and style, from his designer jeans to his perfectly fitted white flannel jacket.
“Okay. Now it’s just you and me, I need to ask you something,” said Kennedy, turning to the window and thrusting his hands into his jeans pockets. “What did you say to my father?”
Kieran made a point of avoiding Kennedy’s gaze.
“About?”
“You tell me.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say. We chatted about a whole heap of things.”
Kennedy waited for him to make eye contact, but didn’t seem angry. After a moment of silence between them, he grinned.
“Well, whatever you said, the father I just said goodbye to is not the same one I remember as a kid. And if that’s because of something you said, I need to thank you. But I also need you to know I didn’t hire you to fight my battles. So please, on the cruise, be yourself, enjoy yourself. I have nothing to prove in front of my friends. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Now, a few house rules,” began Kennedy, leaning his back against the window.
Kieran perched on a stool by the bar.
“Each day we’re onboard, we’ll have breakfast brought to the room. Part of the deal. After that, I’m not expecting you to be glued to me all day—you can go and get up to whatever you want until dinner time. But we’ll always dine together. Is that understood?”
“Of course.”
“And if there are any special events going on—costume party, captain’s pleasure dinner, even other guests’ private parties—then you’ll accompany me as my plus one. We’ll decide on the port stops whether either or both of us want to join the excursions ashore, as and when they happen. Maybe my friends will chat more about that later. But when we’re together, I’m not expecting any touching or other public displays of affection, but I do expect you to remain by my side and not flirt with any other guests. And I include the female ones in that. Are we clear so far?”
“Crystal.”
“Any questions?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do between breakfast and dinner?”
“Seriously? This is a gigantic floating holiday resort. And there’ll be a lot of people your age. Okay, admittedly most of them will be gay and trying to get into your pants, so maybe use the opportunity to brush up on your conversation skills,” said Kennedy, before pointing to the bar counter. “Right next to you, on the bar top, there’s a guide with a rundown of the whole fourteen days, including a list of excursions if we’re docked in port, or other activities. Things like gyms, fitness classes, cinemas, casino, swimming pools, live bands. Or you can always chill and sunbathe up on deck.”
Kieran peered down at the itinerary, where the first port of call after Singapore jumped out at him—Koh Samui. Not only that, but a trip was offered for passengers to visit the Big Buddha Temple.
“What will you be doing?” he heard himself say.
“Most of the time? Probably working some, but I’ll also hang out with my friends.”
“Leonard?”
Why had the name of that particular friend started to grate?
“And others.”
“What if I want to be glued to you? Do you have any objection if I tag along?”
“Of course not. I—I just thought you’d want the freedom to explore. On your own.”
“And during the fourteen days, I probably might, from time to time. But—and you may want to sit down to hear this—I enjoy your company, Kennedy. And I have a feeling I’ll like your friends, too.”
Kennedy responded with a smile that seemed almost shy and gave Kieran an odd twinge of pleasure. Without replying, Kennedy turned and reached for a spot at the window, before sliding open a glass panel and letting the floor-to-ceiling lace curtains billow into the room.
“Come look at this.”
Only then did Kieran realise he still had hold of his luggage handle. After propping the case against a chair, he followed Kennedy. When Kieran stepped out onto the deck, once again his breath was taken away. Another eight-seater table, wooden-topped this time, had matching chairs. Stunning views of the Port of Singapore met his gaze, with a backdrop of the city centre’s high-rise buildings.
“Okay. This is too much,” muttered Kieran, moving to the railing and shaking his head.
“You know what? I get one holiday a year. One. The rest of the time I spend working my arse off. So if I do splash out while I’m away, if I do enjoy a little bit of luxury, it’s nobody’s damn business but my own.”
“I wasn’t criticising,” said Kieran softly, his gaze trailing out to sea. “I’m dazzled, that’s all. Never in my life did I think I’d see something as incredible as this, let alone experience it. Things like this don’t happen to me.”
After a few moments of quiet contemplation, he sensed Kennedy joining him at the sea rail. When he glanced sidelong, he saw Kennedy grinning fondly at him.
“Welcome to the ball, Cinderella.”
Chapter Thirteen
Kennedy
By the time they had unpacked, showered and dressed, with Kieran getting Kennedy’s opinion on a stylish ensemble of a floral shirt comprising faded pinks, oranges and blues, together with white chino pants and tan deck shoes—a look Kieran totally rocked—the cruise staff had already arrived to set up for the drinks party.
Kennedy wore a simple linen combination, a comfortable fit of white shirt untucked over fawn-coloured pants and open-toed brown leather sandals. His friends would expect no less. When he descended the circular stairs to the main floor, he noticed Kieran helping the two staff lay out finger foods and arrange glasses.
“Kieran, you’re on holiday. Leave the professionals to do their job.”
“I want to be useful.”
And just then, Kennedy realised the truth. Kieran felt nervous about meeting his friends, wanting to impress them and make sure everything went well. Once again, an overwhelming affection hit Kennedy, that Kieran was trying because of him, something none of his other companions had done. Before he could say anything, there came a knock at the door. Being the nearest, Kennedy went to answer.
“Are we too early?” asked Steph, her head poking through the open door.
“Aren’t you always?” said Kennedy, pulling her into the room and into a hug. “I bet you could hear the Cosmopolitan shaker all the way from your cabin, couldn’t you? Come on in.”
If Steph appeared a little tired, Laurie looked positively haggard. Not that he would tell her as much. Plus-sized and proud, they rarely dressed down, and while blonde Steph wore a deep scarlet pantsuit and gold accessories, auburn-haired Laurie had black jeans and a black silk blouse decorated with tiny red and gold koi carp.
“Before you say anything, we may not be looking our best right now—despite half an hour of emergency makeup. We flew in last night, so we’re both more than a little pooped. Might not last the whole night.”
“Jet lag’s real, isn’t it?” added Kieran, coming to Kennedy’s side. “I found that out the hard way. Loving that fishy blouse, by the way.”
“And who might you be?” said Steph, casting an approving glance at Kennedy before returning her full attention to Kieran.
“I’m Kieran,” he replied, throwing an arm around Kennedy’s shoulders. Kennedy grinned and looked away, not wanting them to see how much he liked the gesture.
“So you’re this year’s plus on
e, huh?”
“I am indeed,” said Kieran, detaching himself from Kennedy. “And more importantly, you’re without a drink. What can I get you?”
“Okay,” said Laurie, stepping into the cabin. “So you’re now officially my new best friend. Steph’ll have a long, tall vodka tonic with fresh lime. I’ll have soda water with ice and lemon.”
“Soda water?” said Kennedy as Kieran headed off. “Since when?”
“Since ten weeks ago,” said Steph, grinning sheepishly at Kennedy.
“Oh my God, are you—?” asked Kennedy, turning to Laurie and waiting for her to reply.
“I sure am,” said Laurie. “Ten weeks on Jenny Craig and already twenty pounds lighter.”
“What he was going to ask, darling,” said Steph, rolling her eyes, “was if we’re pregnant.”
“I was not—” lied Kennedy.
“Oh, pur-lease,” said Laurie, flicking her hair. “One miracle at a time, darling man.”
When Kieran came back with drinks for the girls, he joined in the conversation and seemed to enjoy their banter. Listening out for the door, Kennedy almost missed Steph’s comment.
“You should be honoured. You’re not his usual type. Most of the others looked like sticks of candy floss. With the kind of sparkling conversation you’d expect from sickly fairground confectionary.”
“Steph!” said Laurie, aghast but laughing.
“What? It’s true.”
“I am standing right here, ladies,” added Kennedy, even though he was used to ribbing from his friends. When another knock came at the door, Kennedy went to answer. To Kennedy’s surprise, not only had the piano player arrived with an armful of sheet music, but Pete and Eric were accompanied by Leonard. The whole gang had arrived.
“Permission to come aboard, sir?” asked Leonard, grinning, after Pete and Eric had moved inside.
Leonard had always possessed an appealing smile. He looked good today, too, in jeans and a striped yellow and maroon rugby shirt, his greying goatee highlighting familiar dimples as he smiled.
“Always more than welcome,” said Kennedy. While he studied Leonard, he noticed the man’s eyes drawn to someone across the room.
“And who might that young specimen be?”
“Roll your tongue in, Len,” said Kennedy. “That’s Kieran. First of all, he’s far too young for you. And secondly, he’s with me.”
“With you, or with you?” asked Leonard, arching an eyebrow.
When Kennedy followed his scrutiny, appraising Kieran from a distance, he felt a sudden pang of protectiveness. Kieran—already cornered by Pete—looked perfect in the casual clothes Kennedy had chosen for him. Caught laughing at something Pete had said, Kieran clutched a hand over his mouth as though to hold in his amusement. On one hand, Kennedy wanted his friends to get along with Kieran, but he didn’t want them to make him feel uncomfortable by flirting with him. Heaven knew, he’d had his fill of that on the last cruise.
“Lay off, Len. He’s a really nice guy and new to all this. Looks as though Pete already has his fangs into him. Go say hello to the girls, while I try to rescue him.”
As he approached them, he heard Kieran monopolising the talk, firing question after question at Pete.
“What about him, the nice old guy, Eric?” Kieran asked. “What do you call him?”
“Him I call Dad.”
“Huh? Why Dad?”
“Because he’s my father.”
“Your father’s gay?” said Kieran, his mouth dropping open.
“Not in the slightest. But he’s been joining us ever since Mum died. And because we sometimes share these cruises with the bottle blue brigade—senior citizens—he normally gets more action than the lot of us put together. Oh shite, is he starting on the red wine already? Here, hold this a moment.”
Kieran took hold of Pete’s champagne glass and turned to smile at Kennedy.
“How are you doing?”
“Learning a lot about your friends. Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked the pianist to play some golden oldies—Katy Perry, Snow Patrol, Coldplay, that kind of thing.”
Golden oldies, thought Kennedy, then what the hell does that make me? Only then did he realise the pianist was playing a gentle jazz rendition of ‘I Kissed A Girl’.’
“Pete’s quite the character, isn’t he?” continued Kieran, either missing or ignoring Kennedy’s expression. “He has names for everyone. Steph and Laurie are the ‘Weather Girls’, Leonard he calls Doris because, apparently, Leonard’s last name is Day. He used to call him ‘Any Day’, but I haven’t quite figured out why—”
Kennedy knew why, but wasn’t about to let on. He’d once joined a conversation where Pete was explaining that ‘any day is better than Lenny Day’, and had then gone on to detail Leonard’s many moments of moroseness. Only rarely did Kennedy lose his temper, but he had torn a strip off Pete in front of everyone. Many years ago, Leonard had lost someone he really loved. If he wasn’t always sunshine and roses, then he had a damn good reason why.
“What does he call me?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Go on. I can handle it.”
“He calls you Mr Happy, because he says you rarely are,” said Kieran. “And in your defence—yes, I know I’m not fighting any more battles for you—I said he might need to re-evaluate the name by the end of the holiday.”
“By the end of which, no doubt, he’ll have christened you, too.”
“Oh, he already has. I’m to be known as Queer One instead of Kieran. Ouch. So my cover should be good for a few more weeks.”
Kennedy’s good humour stalled. Being among so many gay people with their unfiltered banter might well prove to be uncomfortable for Kieran, and he didn’t deserve that.
“Look, Kieran, if you get hassled or find you can’t take the smack talk—”
“Hey, Kennedy, I’m good. Okay? And honestly, I have a really good feeling about this cruise. Please don’t ruin it for yourself by worrying about me. Believe me when I say, I can hold my own.”
Kennedy maintained his gaze, then started to smile and say something inappropriate, but Kieran folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head.
“Really? Don’t even, Ned. You know what I mean.”
Once they’d settled in, after Kennedy made sure everyone had drinks, he got them all to sit together on the sofa arrangement.
“Okay, people,” he announced, after asking the piano player to stop his rendition of Coldplay’s ‘Yellow’. “First order of business. Rule number one. No repeats of last year.”
“That’s an easy one,” said Pete. “Without Paddy and his posse.”
“We need to talk about who’s doing which of the trips. Usual score.”
“Is anyone else doing Japan?” asked Pete.
“Steph?” asked Kennedy, stepping away from the front. “Can you take over?”
Over the next twenty minutes, Steph patiently took votes on who would be attending which shore excursion. Kieran seemed really keen to go to the Buddhist temple in Samui, something that held no interest for Kennedy. Fortunately, Steph, Laurie and Leonard would accompany him.
Partway through the evening—they had only meant to have pre-dinner drinks and snacks before the welcome dinner, but his friends got along so well together—Kennedy stood back and observed them with a mix of happiness and pride. Kieran stood laughing with Pete, the toughest nut to crack in their group of friends. A wave of fondness overcame him, having all of his friends together, getting along. Not that he didn’t value the visit to his family, but friends were different. These particular friends had no hidden agendas or expectations, were not only loyal but were along for the simple pleasures of fun and enjoyment.
While Kennedy chatted with Pete and Leonard—his eyes constantly drawn to Kieran, who was working the room like a professional—he noticed Kieran detach himself and head to the cabin door.
“Who is it?” called Kennedy, laughing over Pete’s shoulder to where
Kieran stood at the open door. Something about his change of composure and the ashen expression stopped his laughter. “What is it? Who’s there, Kieran?”
“It’s me, Kennedy,” came a loud voice from outside the door, one he knew only too well. “Is this pet monkey of yours going to let us in or not?”
Patrick.
Chapter Fourteen
Kieran
Kieran recognised Patrick immediately from the online photograph he’d seen of Kennedy and another man at a social function. Both dark-haired, Kennedy always appeared well turned out, with wisps of grey at the temples of his well-groomed hair, his chiselled features, and those stunning deep Atlantic blue eyes. Patrick’s hair sat in tight curls on his head like a helmet, and his almost black eyes burned into Kieran like accusations. Three other men stood with him, a younger one who appeared a little uncomfortable and two others standing unsmiling behind Patrick like personal bodyguards. Perhaps they were. But what the hell was Patrick doing on the cruise? And more importantly, why would he want to gate-crash this party? Unless he had been invited or was here to make trouble? Kieran felt instantly uncomfortable. How was he supposed to deal with this?
“It’s okay,” came Kennedy’s voice, as he approached the door, stopped next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them in. They’re friends too, and—even if unexpected—more than welcome.”
Kieran could hear an immediate change in the tone of Kennedy’s voice, a cold, business-like formality. That alone irked Kieran, who had noticed that before this intrusion Kennedy—the real Kennedy—had finally surfaced, had started to relax, laugh and enjoy himself.
Patrick and Kennedy shook hands like heads of state, the stern gaze between them unfathomable. Kieran wanted to intervene, to say something, but no words came.
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