“This place is great,” Jackson said.
“Thank you,” said Brandon.
“However did you find out about it?” Henry asked Caspian.
“I googled penis trivia and discovered there were mummified ones here. Did you know that King Tutankhamun's penis was mummified erect?”
“Heaven help us,” Henry muttered. “Everyone prepare themselves for everything you didn’t want to know about male genitalia.”
“We’re eating upstairs,” Caspian said. “But it’s a sensory experience. Complete darkness. No one’s allergic to anything and you’ve already told me your preference for meat, fish or vegetarian. You won’t be able to see what’s on your plate but it will be what you asked for.”
“Meat covers a lot of options,” Henry said.
“Which was why I went for vegetarian.” Caspian winked. No way was he putting anything in his mouth he couldn’t identify. “You can put these bib things on in case you spill anything.” He handed them round. “We’ll be led in and taken to our seats. There’ll be another group in there eating with us who are doing the museum tour after lunch. If you panic or you need to leave the room say the word cock and someone will help you out.”
“I believe the word is out,” Brandon said with a laugh.
They were taken to another room in a conga line, right hand on the right shoulder of the person in front. Everyone was strangely silent as they were led in pitch darkness to their seats. It was more unnerving than Caspian had anticipated.
“Your cutlery is reasonably blunt,” said a male voice. “We don’t want to have to clean up blood—yours or anyone else’s. All your serving staff are visually impaired so please be respectful.”
Caspian was surprised how reluctant he was to speak. It made him realise how much he relied on people’s expressions and body language for clues as to how to behave and respond. But no one was saying anything. The silence grew awkward.
“Hi there everyone. My name’s Brad Pitt,” Caspian said in his best American accent.
A woman gasped and a man laughed. Henry.
“I’m James Bond,” Henry said.
“I’m M,” Jackson added.
From there it went downhill conversation-wise but it was fun. Drinking from a wine glass wasn’t easy when you couldn’t even find it and Caspian had to guess at the food by smell but the two groups—the other was a hen party—got on really well. Lying about what they did for a living probably helped because none of Henry’s friends could admit to working at MI5 so they made up outlandish occupations—fighter pilot, winkle picker, statue cleaner.
After they’d eaten surprisingly good food, they went up another flight of stairs to a studio where they were going to sculpt models from clay and take turns to use a potter’s wheel. Everything would be fired and Caspian could collect the pieces in a week’s time. Henry looked as thrilled as if Caspian had offered him a chance to drive a Ferrari. Seriously! Who would have guessed? Caspian had thought he’d roll his eyes, but Henry was first in the line for the potter’s wheel. They put on overalls to protect their clothes and then the model walked in. A naked guy in his thirties who was—fucking hell—well hung. Henry looked at Caspian and glared. Tough.
That afternoon, Caspian found something else he was no good at. Neither hand sculpting nor throwing a pot. He gave up trying to do the whole figure and just did the cock. Life size with the curved head and veins. Though his looked like a tree covered in ivy. The cock was the part everyone else had avoided. Henry threw a set of fucking perfect soup bowls in the time he was allotted. Caspian managed one very wonky bowl with a hole in it.
He put it alongside Henry’s. “There. Now you have an extra one.”
Henry laughed.
They left the museum in the late afternoon, went for a drink, then had a meal at Tower 42 with fantastic views over London. Followed by a pub quiz Caspian had arranged.
“What’s angel lust?” Caspian asked.
Of course Henry knew. An erection a guy might get if killed by hanging. And Henry knew the average speed of ejaculation. Twenty-eight miles per hour. When he also knew the average number of erections a man has in the night was nine, and that thirty to forty men in the UK break their erect penis in a year, he realised Caspian had set him up as the only one who’d know any answer because over the last month, Caspian had fed him the answers.
“You little…” He grabbed Caspian and rubbed his knuckles in his hair.
All his friends were laughing.
They emerged from the pub at eight slightly drunk.
“We going home yet?” Henry asked.
“Not yet.” Caspian looked around the group. “I’ve arranged tickets on a party boat.”
“If anyone wants to drop out, feel free,” Henry said.
“We’re meeting Jonas and his group of friends,” Caspian told him. “Your last chance to bump and grind before you’re married.”
“Ha.”
Jonas and co were on the boat when they got there. All Henry’s friends had stayed with him.
Henry pulled Jonas into his arms. “You’re still alive! And have all your hair. It’s a miracle.”
Jonas laughed. “We had to sit through Paw Patrol—The Great Pirate Adventure. What did you get up to?”
“I handled three cocks, threw us a set of soup bowls, ate in the dark and won a quiz about male genitals. The cocks weren’t attached to their owners just in case you’re wondering.”
Jonas grimaced. “Not sure if that makes it better or worse.”
“Apparently this is our last chance to bump and grind before we’re married.” Henry glanced at Caspian.
“You can bump and grind? Come and show me.”
Jonas dragged Henry off and Caspian pulled Zed into his arms and kissed him.
“I can’t believe you made them go to that Paw Patrol thing,” Caspian said.
“They laughed. We only stayed until the interval. I was surprised they let us in. A group of guys with no kids. We got some funny looks. I hadn’t thought that through. What did you do?”
“Visited a museum of oddities which was where Henry saw the cocks, lunched in the dark, sculpted from life and had a go on a potter’s wheel. Then a meal at Tower 42, followed by a pub quiz and then this.”
“We went glass blowing. I was crap.”
“Well you’re used to sucking and you’re so good at that.”
“Ha ha.”
“We can relax now,” Caspian said. “Duty done. I wonder if the bathroom is big enough to fuck in.”
Zed chuckled. “Let’s have a dance instead.”
“I knew you’d get fed up of me.”
The area where people were dancing was bigger than Caspian had expected. There was a DJ, the music was loud, the beat strong and the lighting flashed through the entire spectrum so fast that Caspian felt dizzy. Or maybe that was the amount of champagne he’d drunk.
Zed danced like he had no bones. He was all sinuous movement, at one with the music. Caspian felt like an elephant in comparison. But Zed pulled him into his arms, held him close and Caspian let Zed take charge. At least it was dark enough that no one would spot the state of his cock.
Halfway through the second dance, Zed put his mouth to his ear and said, “I’m too hot.”
“Not for me.” Caspian mock-leered but allowed Zed to tug him outside.
The two of them leaned against the side of the boat and stared out over the dark river.
“God, I’m tired,” Zed moaned.
“You’re not allowed to be tired until we’ve checked out the bathroom.”
Zed turned to him and laughed, but as Caspian watched his face, the smile disappeared.
“Shit,” Zed muttered. “It’s Tamaz.”
Caspian turned and saw Zed’s brother dressed in the white jacket of a waiter. He was staring straight at them. It took Caspian a moment, but even as why would Zed’s brother be serving drinks on a boat lurched into his head, he took in the way the white jacket looked too big for
a slender guy and that he had his hand wrapped around something. Oh God. Let me be wrong.
Zed gasped as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had he noticed his brother’s jacket looked wrong?
“Hello, little brother.” Tamaz took a step toward them.
“What are you doing here?” Zed whispered.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
No, no, not going to happen. I can’t let this happen. Caspian was choked with shock and fear.
“Come here,” Tamaz said. “Let me hug you.”
Caspian stepped to block Zed’s way. “Zed, go and tell Henry.”
Zed glanced at him, a puzzled expression on his face and Caspian knew he didn’t realise what Tamaz was planning.
“Stay right where you are,” Tamaz called.
Caspian had no time to think through the consequences. He ran at Tamaz, wrapped his arms around him and hauled him over the side.
A split second of stunned disbelief before Zed found his voice and yelled for help but the music was too loud for him to be heard. He stared into the water but there was no sign of Caspian or Tamaz. Then he rushed to the bridge and flung open the door.
The guy behind the wheel gaped at him. “What—?”
“There are two men overboard. I think… I think one of them has a bomb. Turn toward the shore now.”
He ran down again and as he reached the bottom of the steps, and looked out over the river, he thought he caught a glimpse of Tamaz’s white jacket before there was a massive explosion and a ball of fire erupted over the water. He was thrown to the deck as the boat rocked violently. He could hear screaming. The music stopped and the screaming continued. Zed pushed to his feet. He had blood on his hands. What…? Where’s Caspian? He leaned on the railing and yelled his name over and over.
He was still yelling it when Henry and Jonas reached him. The boat was listing but had almost reached a quay.
“We have to go back. Caspian’s in the water.”
“What the hell’s happened?” Henry asked.
“Tamaz. He was dressed as a waiter. He must have been wearing a suicide vest. He told me he wanted to hug me and Caspian ran at him and dragged him overboard.”
Zed collapsed sobbing into Jonas’s arms. Henry pulled out his phone.
“Wapping police, Wapping police. This is an emergency. A bomb has detonated close to a party boat near St Katharine’s Pier. Two persons in the water. Boat damaged. Immediate assistance required.”
“We have to help him.” But then Zed caught the look that passed between Henry and Jonas, and felt his world begin to crumble. “We need a boat. We need to rescue him.”
“Zed.” Henry put his hand on Zed’s shoulder. “You know the physics of this. You know what happens if devices explode underwater. The shockwaves—”
“No. It wasn’t underwater, not really. There’s a chance he’s okay. We have to look for him.”
“We will.” Henry went back on his phone.
Everyone was being helped off the boat. Jackson was taking charge. The air was filled with the sound of sirens. A few people were limping. Many were smeared with blood.
Zed was frantic. “We need a boat. We have to get on the river.”
“You need medical attention,” Jonas said. “You’re bleeding.”
“I don’t care. I need Caspian. I need him. I need him.”
Jonas wrapped his arms around him on the dock and held him tight. “We’ll find him.”
“Jonas—” Henry began.
“We’ll find him.”
Maybe Henry reacted to the determination in Jonas’s voice because suddenly he was in charge, ordering people to do stuff, making calls, but nothing was happening fast enough. The explosion hadn’t come the moment they’d hit the water. Zed wanted Caspian to have swum off as fast as he could. Maybe he’d found somewhere to shelter. In the middle of the river?
But a nagging voice inside Zed’s head was telling him that if the bomb had detonated below the water, Caspian couldn’t have escaped unharmed. Zed wanted him back whatever injuries he had. He’d look after him forever. He saved my life. He gave his life to save mine. I love him.
If he’s dead, I want to be dead too.
He couldn’t stop shaking. It had suddenly struck him that his brother had tried to kill him. Oh fuck. Tamaz! Everything was circling around him as if he were drunk, but he wasn’t. His heart was racing and he wasn’t dragging enough air into his lungs. Jonas sat him down and called over a paramedic. Zed’s mind was somehow both blank and overwhelmed at the same time. The paramedic was talking to him, cleaning blood from his face and head and hands, saying something about hospital.
“Not leaving here until I know Caspian is safe.”
Jonas wrapped the blanket they’d been given around Zed and pulled Zed’s face into the crook of his shoulder.
“It’s my fault,” Zed whispered. “I used the wrong phone to book the boat. My father’s phone. I made a mistake. Tamaz must have tracked my call. Fuck, fuck.”
“It’s not your fault.” Jonas hugged him.
But Zed knew it was.
Jonas’s friends came over and Jonas told them to go home, that he’d call them when he had any news. Same with Henry’s group. They were mostly uninjured. A few bumps and bruises. All of them on their phones.
Zed kept repeating the same thing over and over in his head. Let Caspian be alive.
When he saw two policemen heading towards them, Zed whimpered.
“Say nothing before you speak to Henry or Jackson,” Jonas whispered.
One of the policemen dropped to his haunches beside them. “I presume you two were on the boat?”
“Yes,” Jonas said.
“Names?”
“Jonas and Zayne Mallinson. Zayne’s my nephew.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“No.” Jonas shook his head. “I was dancing, there was a loud blast, and the boat suddenly keeled to one side before surging upright. Everyone fell.”
“What about you?” The policeman looked at Zed.
“He’s in shock. Head injury,” Jonas said.
“Better get him looked at in hospital.”
“Yes. We’re just waiting for transport.”
The policemen went off to speak to others around them. Zed wondered if anyone apart from him had seen what Caspian had done. Caspian had acted before Zed could even think what to do. If Tamaz had detonated the device on the boat, how many would have died or been injured? Fuck it, Tamaz! You fucking, fucking bastard. Zed assumed his brother was dead and he was glad.
How does this help your cause, brother? And grief for Caspian turned to rage at Tamaz.
There was no sign of Henry. All the passengers were off the boat, which sat at a crazy angle but hadn’t sunk. Paramedics were moving among the injured. Armed police swarmed everywhere. Phones flashed as people took pictures. It sickened Zed that anyone would want to do that, preserving images of fear and pain and confusion. He burrowed closer into Jonas’s embrace. Jonas kept whispering it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay. How could he know?
Every minute that ticked by was a nail in Caspian’s coffin. The Thames was cold, fast flowing, deep and dirty. If Caspian had been injured, knocked unconscious, he could easily have drowned. My fault. My brother. I should be the one in the water. Tears rolled down Zed’s cheeks. Several smaller boats were on the river, moving slowly, shining lights back and forth over the water. What if they hit him?
Zed couldn’t bear to look.
When he felt Jonas’s phone vibrate, he froze. Jonas stood up and moved away to answer it.
No, no, no. Zed pushed to his feet. I won’t let him be dead. When Jonas turned to face him, Zed held his breath.
“They found him. Pulled him out of the water unconscious. He’s on his way to the Royal London hospital. Henry’s with him.”
Zed took one step and his knees buckled.
He came around in the ambulance with Jonas beside him. “Caspian!”
&nbs
p; “I’ve heard nothing,” Jonas said. “Lie still.”
“You’re in shock and concussed.” A paramedic checked his blood pressure. “You’ll be fine.”
No, I won’t. Not unless Caspian is okay.
Jonas took Zed’s hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. “We’re heading for the same hospital.”
Zed sighed and closed his eyes.
Caspian’s hand rested against something soft and silky. Felt like…hair? When he tried to move, he couldn’t. Nor could he open his eyes. It was too much trouble to make more effort.
Then he remembered. Oh fuck.
He forced his eyes open. Zed’s hair. Zed’s head rested next to Caspian’s hand. I’m in hospital. Zed is sitting in a chair beside me with his head by my hand. Why does my throat hurt? Why can’t I breathe? Fuck! There was something in his mouth and a pain in his chest. Caspian lifted his hand to his face. Tried to. It didn’t move.
Zed’s face was suddenly in front of his. “Caspian!”
I am fucking panicking. What’s happening?
A nurse appeared at Zed’s side. Oh Jesus, that pain in my chest again. It kept coming.
“Caspian, you’ve got a tube in your throat that’s helping you breathe,” the nurse said.
Take it out. I know how to breathe. Except he was drowning.
But she threaded a length of narrow plastic tube down whatever was in his throat and as soon as it touched his windpipe, he gagged but the drowning sensation faded.
Fuck. Won’t I be able to deepthroat Zed anymore?
“I’m suctioning liquid out,” she said.
I want to cough. I want you to fucking stop. The sensation of not breathing was freaking him out. He could feel air being pushed into his lungs but the awareness of his inability to expel it was frightening.
Zed, tell them to stop. Please. I’m fine. Please. You can hear me, can’t you? Talk to me!
Caspian went back underwater.
Whenever he came to the surface and felt the strange pressure in his chest, he panicked for a short while before he submerged again.
He came up convinced he’d spoken to Zed. They’d had a long conversation about eating in the dark, and a discussion about an idea he’d had to collect polystyrene for recycling.
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