The Story of Us

by Barbara Elsborg

  “I’ll check.”

  Jackson turned right off Trafalgar Road and drove up the side of Greenwich Park. Just before they reached a small traffic island, he swung left through open black gates, the iron staves topped by golden fleur-de-lis.

  Zed gasped when he saw the house. “Here? It’s huge.”

  “They don’t live in all of it. It’s divided up into four three-story blocks. They have the largest area though.”

  Zed’s heart started to pound. What if he didn’t like them? What if they didn’t like him? How many were there of them? What did they do? Why did they want to give him a place to live? Questions bubbled and made him queasy.

  He was slower getting out of the car than Jackson and by the time he’d joined him, a tall, slim, brown-haired guy in glasses had reached them. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was wearing chinos and a pale yellow shirt.

  “Jonas!” Jackson shook his hand and turned to Zed. “Zed this is Jonas Mallinson. Jonas meet Zed.”

  Zed held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Mallinson.”

  “Call me Jonas. I’m pleased to meet you too. Are you coming in, Jackson?”

  “If Zed wants me to.”

  What difference would it make? He had to stay here for the time being at least. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  Jackson smiled and headed back to his car.

  “When was this built?” Zed asked as they walked along the gravel path towards a door.

  “Early eighteenth century.”

  “Wow.” Zed followed Jonas inside. “So what was this building originally?” He was trying to make conversation. He wanted Jonas to like him.

  “A family home until the early twentieth century. Then it became a school operated by the Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund for the sons of RAF personnel killed in service. That ended in the mid-seventies and afterwards it was restored by the Blackheath Preservation Trust and finally sold for residential use.” He turned to Zed, “Would you like a drink?”

  “Some water would be great, thank you.”

  “I’ll get you a drink and show you round.”

  The kitchen was lovely, with dark blue cupboard doors lower down and white above. French doors led to outside and in front of them was a battered looking table holding an open newspaper, a pen and a half-drunk coffee. It looked as though Jonas was doing a Sudoku puzzle.

  “I’m addicted to those,” Jonas said. “Do you do them?”

  “I’ve done a few at school.”

  Jonas drew the water from the dispenser on the American-style fridge-freezer and handed it to him.

  “Thank you.” Zed carried his glass as he followed Jonas.

  “Just off the kitchen is the music room.”

  Zed gasped when he saw the grand piano. “Wow!”

  “Thought you might like that.”

  There were violin cases propped in the corner, a music stand and sheet music piled on the floor.

  “Who plays?” Zed asked.

  “Me.”

  “Will I be able to play too?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Now?”

  Jonas nodded. “Try it out.” He took the glass from Zed’s hand.

  Zed moved the seat forward slightly and ran his fingers over the keys before playing a short piece by Bach. He winced when he made a mistake and stopped. “I’m rusty.”

  “You’re very good. You’re welcome to play anytime I’m not using it.”

  “I’m at my best at three in the morning.”

  Jonas laughed. “Ah, maybe we’d better set times. Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

  Zed took back his glass and followed Jonas through a large reception room with modern furniture, books everywhere, a brick fireplace and a big TV.

  “We spent most of our time in here. Though we both work unsocial hours on occasion.”

  “Who else lives here?”

  “Just me and Henry. And you now, assuming you want to.”

  Henry with a y or an i? Zed supposed it might be short for Henrietta but when he thought about it, he hadn’t seen any women’s shoes or coats or makeup, any of the sorts of things his mother had left around.

  “This is the gym. Small but it works. Henry uses it more than me. If you don’t know how to use the equipment, ask him.”

  They went up the stairs. “Three bedrooms up here. All with their own bathrooms. This one is ours.”

  It was so large there was a living area at one end with two couches and a fireplace. And even more books.

  “You can choose one of the other two bedrooms or maybe you’d like to sleep in the basement.”

  “Compete with chains and a rack?” Zed pressed his lips together, regretting the quip but Jonas chuckled.

  “Wait and see.” They came out of the bedroom and Jonas started up another set of stairs. “These lead to the roof.”

  At the top was a small glass conservatory which opened onto a large decked terrace set out with dining table and chairs, modular seating and a hot tub.

  “You can see the grounds from here. Two and half acres of sloping communal gardens. Not to be used for ball games I’m afraid, but the park is across the road.”

  Greenwich Park and the Observatory lay in one direction, the Thames and London in the other. Oh no, this can’t be right. This place is too good for me.

  “We’re very close to Maze Hill station but it’s not far to the town centre. A quick walk.”

  “I think…” Zed swallowed hard. “Has there been a mistake? You really want me to live here?”

  “Yes, but only if you want to. Come on, let me show you downstairs.”

  “Have you had a lot of… boys staying?” Zed asked.

  “You’d be the first.”

  Zed sucked in a breath when he saw the basement room. A brightly lit white tunnel with modern furnishings and a small kitchenette. There was a bedroom at the end and beyond that a bathroom. One side of the room was a wall of glass doors and outside there was a small private deck with chairs and a mosaic topped table.

  “The benefit of being on a slope,” Jonas said. “Two patio areas.” He led him from there to a room the other side of the stairs. Racks of wine lined one wall. “Do you drink?”

  “No.” I’m too young. Was that a trick question?

  “We don’t allow smoking but you could go outside to light up until we convince you to stop.”

  “I don’t smoke.”

  “Good. Drugs are a definite no.” They headed back up the stairs.

  “I’ve never taken anything.”

  Jonas turned and smiled at him. “I knew we’d get on fine. Well, I think that’s the tour done. Your bag is here.” He took it from a hall cupboard and set it at the bottom of the stairs. You can take it up or down later. Where would you like to sleep?”

  “Upstairs.” There was too much space downstairs. He didn’t feel old enough or worthy enough to have his own virtual bedsit.

  “Let’s go back to the kitchen and I’ll make us something to eat. There’s a letter for you too.”

  “A letter?”

  “Exam results I believe.”

  He’d forgotten. Now his heart thumped.

  Zed put down the glass on the kitchen table and Jonas handed him the envelope. “Nervous?”

  “A little.” He took out the paper. Read it once, then read it again before he smiled.

  “Did you do okay?”

  “I got eleven A*s.”

  “That’s brilliant! Well done.”

  “You knew.”

  Jonas laughed. “Damn. I’ve lost my touch. Yep, I knew. When Henry gets home we’ll talk about your options for A levels. What you’d like to do and where we think you might like to go. But for now, what do you want to eat? A sandwich? Cheese and pickle? Ham? Smoked salmon?”

  “Just cheese, thank you. Can I help?”

  “Find some plates and cutlery. Just open cupboards and drawers. It’ll take you a while to discover where everything is kept. Assuming you want
to stay.” He stared at Zed.

  “Is the alternative a bedsit in Deptford?”

  “I think they could do better than that.”

  “Do you work with Jackson?” Zed began opening cupboard doors.

  “No, I’m a musician.”

  Zed only just held in his whine of pleasure. “I’m really grateful for… Thank you. I’d like to stay if that’s okay. If Henry wants me too.”

  “He’s looking forward to it.”

  “Really?” Was Henry Jonas’s son? But only one bedroom was in use. Oh. Zed smiled and snapped it off his face as Jonas turned.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Should I tell you my bad habits now?”

  “No.” Jonas chuckled.

  “I hope it’ll be okay if I have that bedroom upstairs with the white wooden bed and the desk and the bookshelves. I like the view.”

  “Absolutely. When we’ve had lunch, we’ll go out and buy you a few things. Okay?”

  Okay? Zed felt he’d just won the lottery.

  By the time they returned late that afternoon, Zed was tired. They’d wandered around Greenwich buying all sorts of stuff that he both needed and didn’t need, then Jonas had driven him to the supermarket for him to choose the food he liked. Zed had taken his own money but Jonas insisted on paying for everything. He told Zed they’d be given money to look after him, and he’d also have pocket money.

  Zed felt as if he’d been transported to a different planet. No one had ever been this kind to him.

  “Can we stop and have a drink?” Zed asked.

  “’Course we can.”

  Jonas drove to a café and parked just past it.

  “I want to buy us something. What would you like?” Zed asked.

  “Black coffee and carrot cake. Thank you.”

  Zed chose water and a cream-filled meringue. Jonas gave a quiet groan of delight when he took a mouthful of the cake. “My favourite.”

  When Zed’s fork shattered the meringue over the plate and table he wished he’d picked something else, though it tasted lovely.

  “What do you do as a musician?” Zed asked.

  “I’m a violinist with the LSO, the London Symphony Orchestra.”

  “Oh wow. That’s fantastic. You played at the Olympics.”

  Jonas smiled. “Yep, we did. I go all over the world with the LSO. We’re going to New York in October.”

  “I read that the LSO can play anything you put in front of them, instantly and how the conductor wants it. That you’re the world’s greatest collective sight-readers.”

  “I knew I was going to love you.”

  Zed sighed. Please don’t let anything spoil this.

  It took them three trips to unload everything from the car. Jonas helped him carry everything upstairs.

  “What happened to him?” Jonas picked up Zed’s bear.

  “My father. He pulled him apart. I sewed him back together but not very well.”

  “Shall I have a go?”

  “If you think you can fix him.”

  “I’ll try. Why don’t you put all your things away and then we can make dinner together.”

  “Okay.”

  Jonas left the room with Teddy Robinson and Zed dropped onto the bed. His head was buzzing. My bedroom. Not what he’d thought he’d have when he set off from Kent a couple of months ago. No Caspian for a start but there really was nothing he could do about that no matter how much he wished otherwise.

  He choked up yet again as he lined up toiletries in the bathroom and hung his new and old clothes in the wardrobe. He seemed to have spent the entire day trying not to cry. He put the three adventure books Jonas had recommended onto the shelf. Zed imagined that one day, it would hold lots of books and his throat thickened once more.

  He showered, changed into shorts, T-shirt and flip-flops, and made his way down the stairs. He slowed when he heard Jonas talking to a guy.

  “I really like him,” Jonas said.

  “You’ve only known him a few hours.”

  “Plenty of time. You’ll see. He’s polite, funny, smart, interesting, cute and—”

  “You can’t call him cute.”

  “I love you, Henry. But he is cute. He has the most beautiful eyes. One glance and you’d remember him.”

  “Not necessarily a good thing. He’s had a terrible home life. Jackson told me his father beat him.”

  Zed winced.

  “His life is going to be different with us. He’s a good kid. He played the piano so beautifully.”

  Zed decided to go into the kitchen before he heard something he didn’t like. Jonas was talking to a tall man in a charcoal suit. Henry had short grey hair and looked about the same age as Jonas. Jonas had his back to Zed and was unfastening the guy’s tie.

  Henry tapped Jonas’s shoulder, gestured with his eyes and Jonas turned.

  “And here he is,” Jonas said. “Zed meet Henry Steele.”

  Zed walked towards him and held out his hand. “Hello.”

  Henry smiled at him, shook his hand then turned to Jonas. “Yep, he’s cute.”

  Zed blushed, Jonas groaned and Henry laughed.

  “You heard us,” Henry said.

  “How did you know?”

  Henry smiled. “Step up from the bottom creaks very slightly.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Zed smiled.

  “Henry has ears like a bat.” Jonas took a bottle from the fridge.

  “Champagne?” Henry raised his eyebrows.

  “Tell him about your GCSE results.” Jonas handed the bottle to Henry to open and took three tall, thin glasses from the cupboard.

  “Eleven A*s.”

  “That’s better than I managed. Well done.” The cork popped out.

  “Give Zed half a glass too,” Jonas said. “Special occasion.”

  “Good lord, you’re corrupting him already?”

  The guys chinked their glasses against Zed’s.

  “Congratulations on your exam results, Zed,” Henry said. “Here’s to the start of your new life.”

  “Thank you.” Zed sipped the champagne, the bubbles popping against his tongue.

  “Like it?” Jonas asked.

  Zed nodded.

  Henry put his glass down. “I’ll go up and get changed. What’s for dinner?”

  “Zed’s offered to make an Iranian salad. I’m doing salmon to have with it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They went up to the roof terrace to eat. Jonas and Henry finished off the champagne while Zed had water. He kept wanting to pinch himself because this all seemed too good to be true.

  “This couscous salad is delicious.” Jonas helped himself to more.

  “What’s in it?” Henry asked.

  “Pine nuts, pumpkin seeds, pomegranate, mint, parsley and feta cheese,” Zed said. “And couscous.”

  “Do you like cooking?” Henry asked.

  “Yes. Well, only the things I like to eat.”

  “What don’t you like to eat?” Henry asked.

  “Tongue.”

  The two guys looked at each other and laughed.

  Zed knew he was blushing but hoped they didn’t notice.

  “What else?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t like meat on the bone or bony fish.”

  “Will you eat pork?” Henry put his cutlery straight on the empty plate and pushed it away.

  “I might have been brought up as Muslim but I’m…” Gay “…not a follower. I don’t mind eating pork.” He took a deep breath. “Do you both know what I did, where I come from, all about me?”

  “We don’t know all about you,” Jonas said. “We know you got caught up in a bad situation and did a brave thing. The rest—well, you can tell us as much or as little as you like.”

  Henry put his glass down. “We do need to have a talk about rules.”

  Maybe this was the bad news. Zed put his hands on his lap.

  Henry pinned him with his gaze. “Don’t tell anyone what you did. I think that goes
without saying but you really mustn’t.”

  Does he know I told Caspian?

  “We’ve had to change your name to protect you. You can keep the Zed but it’s now short for Zayne. Zayne Mallinson. Jonas’s nephew. His eldest brother’s only child. Your father died recently in a plane crash, your mother some years ago of cancer. Your mother was a teacher. Your father worked for a bank. You used to live in Lewisham. Keep to the truth where possible. If you’re not sure what to say, then don’t say anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “Be careful what you invent because it’s easy to get caught out in a lie.”

  Zed nodded.

  “There’s a school very close to here but we’d like you to go to a private school to do your A levels,” Henry said. “Colfe’s School is co-ed, very good, only a few miles away and I know the head. It was decided you were safer not going to the closer school. You can walk to the top of the hill and catch a bus to Lee Station or if one of us is available, we’ll take you in. We need to know what A levels you want to do so we can tell the school, then we’ll buy your uniform and you’re all set for September.”

  He took a key from his pocket and put it on the table. “This is for the house. We’ll show you how to use the alarm in case no one’s here when you get back.”

  “Who’s paying for me to go to school?”

  “The government.”

  Zed swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve—”

  “Yes, you do.” Henry patted him on the shoulder. “No more about that. Right, the rest of the rules. No inviting anyone here unless you check with us first. If you’re asked, I work in the Department of Health and Jonas is a musician. If you want to go out at the weekend, that’s fine but we need you back here by eleven at the latest. We also need to know where you’re going or else you can’t go. Knock before you enter someone’s bedroom. Do your fair share of chores such as washing dishes, emptying the dishwasher, setting the table, taking out the rubbish, doing laundry, vacuuming and dusting. You’re not our slave. Just do your share. Keep your own room clean, make your bed every morning, put clothes for laundry in the basket and not on the floor.” He turned to Jonas. “Have I forgotten anything?”

  Jonas gaped at him. “Clothes for the laundry in the basket and not on the floor? You know that and yet you still think your socks make the journey on their own?”