The Lion Lies Waiting

by Glenn Quigley

  “Oh, ’e’s an ’andsome man, is our George. Beautiful eyes, warm smile, great bum,” Robin chortled. “Not as ’andsome as you, of course, my darlin’,” he grinned to Edwin.

  “I’ll never look at him the same way again,” Duncan said.

  “That’s my secret, who’s next?” Robin asked.

  “Bearing in mind we already know about the time you tried to climb the outside of the Moth & Moon naked,” Duncan said, pointing to Edwin. “And the time you climbed up the Wishing Tree naked. What is it with you and climbing things with no clothes on? I thought you didn’t like heights?”

  “It’s a side effect of drinking too much. I can’t help it, especially if I’m goaded. And the heights don’t matter much after a few glasses,” Edwin shrugged. “It always sounds like such a good idea at the time. It’s only embarrassing the morning after.”

  “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. If I were made like you, I’d never wear clothes,” Duncan said.

  Edwin laughed and made a show of trying to peer over into the gaping flap of Duncan’s scandalously tight, continental-style underwear.

  “You’re not doing so badly, from what I can see.”

  Duncan giggled as he squeezed his plump thighs together and tried to keep the buttonless fly closed.

  “Well, you know all my stories, then,” Edwin said.

  “Not exactly,” Robin said.

  He had a curious expression, and his voice was pitched low.

  “Oh? What’s this, now?” Duncan rubbed his hands together in exaggerated glee at the prospect of new gossip.

  “Well, yesterday afternoon,” Edwin said, “Eva and Iris came to us, well, to me, with a proposition. They would like me to father their child.”

  Duncan raised his furry eyebrows. “Giss on! That’s quite something. Are you going to do it?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Edwin said, taking a drink. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

  Duncan thought about it for a moment. The silence was punctuated only by the cracking of the fire.

  “You’ve lain with women before, yes?”

  Edwin nodded.

  “Well, there’s one stream jumped. I think you should do it.”

  “Really?”

  “Definitely. You’d be a terrific father, you’re always taking care of us,” Duncan laughed. “Robin, you too. A child couldn’t ask for better parents. Eva’s fire, Iris’s sweetness, your decency, Robin’s kindness. What child could ask for more?”

  “Have you ever thought about it?” Edwin asked, blushing slightly.

  “I have, but I’ve never been aroused by women, so it’s not likely to happen for me. Anyway, I don’t think it would be a good idea. I’ve got a temper, I know, everyone knows. And if I turned out to be anything like my own father, then…well. The less said about him, the better. But, I could be a terrific uncle to your child!” he said. “He’ll have the finest toys on the islands! Or she, of course.”

  He clinked his glass against Edwin’s again, a familiar sorrow in his eyes. The same remote sorrow Edwin had seen on many occasions, like a distant shore glimpsed through fog, ever-present but untouched.

  “Your turn,” Edwin said, quietly.

  The last of the candles went out and the only light came from the dying flames in the fireplace. The world was black and red.

  “Eh?” Duncan replied. “Oh! You mean what he was talking about. Mr. Baxbary bleddy Mudge. I hate him more than anyone alive. I really think…I really think I’d kill him if I had the chance.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Robin said.

  “Care to wager on it?” Duncan asked.

  Edwin pushed himself upright and sat with his legs folded. “You told me once it took a year for you to fully extricate yourself from Baxbary’s clutches. What did he make you do?”

  “It’s a long story, boys, a long story,” Duncan said, shaking his head and swaying slightly.

  “You got anythin’ better to do?” Robin asked, taking another sip of brandy.

  They were all suffering the effects of alcohol and Edwin thought he’d never seen Duncan quite so far gone.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure I saw the footman giving me the eye…” Duncan said, turning toward the bedroom door.

  “Come on, Duncan. You can trust us,” Edwin said.

  Duncan sighed heavily.

  “I don’t know how much you know about politics here, how the council works?” he began.

  “I know there are, what, five council members? And each one takes the name of an animal. Rabbit, Fox, Swan, Magpie and…?” Edwin trailed off, trying to remember.

  “Badger,” Robin said.

  “Right,” Duncan said. “It’s an old tradition, really old. Something to do with wise women in a cave, I don’t know the details. Anyway, the council members are chosen by a series of committees made up of leaders in their respective fields. So, a committee of farmers and builders selects Badger, a committee of traders and merchants selects Magpie, and a committee of fishermen and harbour workers selects Swan. Rabbit and Fox, now they’re different—they’re chosen by the council itself because they don’t represent specific parts of society. For Rabbit, the law says they must always choose a person from a poor background, someone without a family name or reputation. They say it brings balance, perspective. Fox, though, can be anyone.”

  “I understand Rabbit is the leader of the council, and the island, but what does Fox actually do?” Edwin asked.

  “Rabbit represents everyone and Fox represents everyone else, as they say. Everyone who’s being ignored by the council, everyone who is being overlooked. There’s never a decision made which suits one and all, and it’s Fox’s role to give voice to the contrary point of view, regardless of whether or not he personally agrees with it. That’s what their animal masks are for, you see? To remind the councilmembers they’re not there to voice personal opinions, they’re there to serve the island,” Duncan replied.

  “What’s this got to do with Baxbary? Robin asked.

  “I’m getting to it. You’d think a fisherman would have more patience!” Duncan said, slurring his words ever so slightly, his eyes unfocused. “Anyway, any council member may suggest their own replacement, and, if there’s no reasonable reason to deny their choice, then it’s a done deal. It’s hard with the three committees, as there are so many more people with their own personal ambitions to get past, but with Rabbit or Fox, well, as I said, they’re chosen by the council, so there are only four people who have to approve the choice. You get one or two firmly onside, and your choice is quickly ratified.

  Now, what you may not know is Baxbary’s father, Malcolm Mudge, was Fox for quite a few years before him. From before I ever came to Blackrabbit. Baxbary, naturally, wanted to take over when his father eventually gave up the position, so he spent years doing everything his father wanted to get on his good side and make sure he was named as his successor. Malcolm made him jump through all manner of hoops, always implying he’d rather see the position be given to this son of a business associate or that niece who was making great strides in business on the mainland. Baxbary could never be sure he’d definitely get to take over, so he was forced to play nice.

  In the meantime, he started secretly digging his claws into Magpie,—ah, Loveday Bezzle, that is—and soon had her wrapped around his little finger, so when the time came, she would back Malcolm’s nomination and make Baxbary’s ascension to the position so much smoother. The problem was, Baxbary had run out of patience and wanted to get rid of his father. And this is where I came in.”

  Duncan stopped to drain his glass and refilled it slowly from the bottle, spilling a few drops on the expensive rug as his arm wobbled.

  “I haven’t told anyone this part before. Not even you, Robin,” he said, looking up at them.

  “My shop was failing and I owed money to Baxbary with no way to pay him back. He gave me a choice—help him with his scheme and he’d write off what I owed, or be imprisoned for not payin
g my debts. I still wonder if his relationship with me was all just part of his grand plan to become Fox. Well, anyway, I had a way out, a chance to escape him, and I took it. And please, don’t judge me too harshly for it. You don’t know what it was like, living with him. I loved him in the beginning, but he turned manipulative, abusive, cruel. Every day brought a new torment. I’d have done anything to get away. And his father was no pure soul, believe me. The apple didn’t fall far from that particular tree. Malcolm was a bully who used his connections on the council to get his own way. He loved to find out scandalous information on people and use it as leverage. Baxbary hated him, though he pretended otherwise. I’m not proud of what I did. I seduced Malcolm. No other way to put it. I made excuses to be alone with him, made my intentions clear. He was aroused by the thrill of it, the risk of going to bed with his son’s lover. Of course, there was no risk, not in the way he thought, it was all Baxbary’s idea.”

  Edwin was shocked. He knew Duncan was no innocent, but he never dreamed he was capable of that. He glanced over at Robin who wore a mournful expression.

  “Once I had Malcolm’s trust, I had access to his private quarters, his offices, all under the pretence of arranging secret encounters. He’d be in a council meeting knowing I was waiting for him on his desk, or in his bedroom, and it was all I needed to plant evidence of wrongdoing on his part. Evidence Magpie—Loveday Bezzle—conveniently found and exposed to the council.”

  “What wrongdoin’?” Robin asked without looking at him.

  “It’s against the laws of the island for Fox or Rabbit to strike up personal business deals. Business dealings are unavoidable for the other three, but the roles of Rabbit and Fox are supposed to be dedicated to the service of the people. Malcolm’s choice was to step down quietly or be imprisoned. He chose to fight his case in court and named me as having framed him. Now, Malcolm did, in fact, make many such illegal deals, usually through some proxy or other but he was smart enough never to leave a paper trail. So, Baxbary—who knew all the details—had fake documents drawn up concerning real deals. The magistrates didn’t care where the evidence had come from. Once they discovered he’d broken the law, that was it. He was off to prison.”

  “That’s…underhanded,” Edwin said.

  “That’s Blackrabbit. When Malcolm discovered he’d lost and would end up in gaol, he officially nominated Baxbary to succeed him, to carry on the family name and uncover how this had all happened. Baxbary, feigning shock and surprise, took over the role of Fox.”

  The only sound was the snapping of the fire, and in the dim light and brandy haze, it took a moment for them to see Duncan was crying.

  “It took a few days for the penny to drop, but when Malcolm realised what really happened, what his own son had done—what I had done—it was too much for him. In his prison cell he, ah, he took his own life. Because of me. Because of what I did.”

  He began to shake as the tears streamed down his face. He covered his mouth with his hands to stifle the sobs issuing forth. Edwin was by his side like a shot, throwing his arm around and holding him close, trying to soothe him. Robin was on the other side as quickly as he was able to move. He put one huge hand on the side of Duncan’s head and held him close to his heart.

  “Duncan, oh, Duncan, you damn fool, why did you never say anythin’? You’ve been keepin’ this bottled up inside all this time.”

  Edwin was overcome with a blaze of pity for his friend, for the pain the secret had caused. The three of them sat there, in the half-light of the glowing embers, for a long, long time. They spoke platitudes to Duncan to try to calm him, to ease his suffering. Duncan just kept saying over and over it was his fault. Presently, the room began to grow cold, and they moved him to the bed, tried to at least make him physically comfortable. He clung tightly to Robin, soaking his undershirt with tears. Together, the two lay down, and Edwin pulled the heavy blankets over them. Doing so resulted in a curious disconnect from what was happening, as though he had no further part to play in it. It was Duncan’s pain, and his history with Robin made it his pain, too. Try as he might, Edwin knew he couldn’t provide whatever it was Duncan needed to pull him through.

  He stood there for a while watching them both, those former lovers lying in bed together once again. For a moment he wondered if what Duncan had wanted all along was to be back in Robin’s bed, but he shook the thought away, knew he was being unfair. Robin had been in Duncan’s life longer than anyone else, they had a connection Edwin couldn’t hope to really understand, but the whisper of jealousy was there, nonetheless. He also found he couldn’t stop worrying about how much Robin would have to give of himself to ease Duncan’s sadness.

  The kindness in Robin’s heart was endless and it would drown him if he wasn’t careful.

  Edwin took Robin’s cap and placed it by the bed. Then he kissed him on the forehead, picked up a blanket from the floor and settled himself onto a chair for the night.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE SOUND OF servants moving about the house woke Duncan. Hazy winter sunlight found its way through a gap in the curtains and the bedroom was drenched in blue light. He opened his eyes to find Robin lying in bed next to him. For a moment, his heart jumped before he remembered what happened.

  “Mornin’, gorgeous,” Robin chuckled, as he pursed his lips. “Give us a kiss.”

  “That’s not funny,” Duncan said hoarsely.

  “Then why am I laughin’?”

  “Because you’re easily amused?”

  “I must say, I never thought we’d wake up like this again!” Robin said, his sky blue eyes sparkling and kind, even at that time of the morning.

  Duncan lay facing him, awash in a flood of memories. How long had it been since they’d last lain beside each other? Was it really only three years? A lifetime. An instant.

  “If there’s any lechery going on over there I’m going to have to insist on joining in,” came a voice from across the room. Edwin stretched his arms after a less than comfortable night in a chair.

  “I don’t think I could if I tried,” Robin said, holding his head. Duncan sat up, slowly. His mouth was parched and his head was sore.

  “Did you put me into bed?” Duncan asked. “I don’t…don’t really remember.”

  “Do you remember why?” Edwin asked.

  Duncan nodded, unable to look Edwin in the eye. “I’m sorry to put you both through that.”

  “Don’t be,” Robin said. “You should have said somethin’ a long time ago. When we were together. But it’s out now and that’s what matters. And look, I’ve been thinkin’, and what ’appened, well, it’s ’orrible, but you shouldn’t blame yourself. Baxbary’s dad were guilty, it prob’ly would ’ave all come to light eventually anyway. And even if you ’adn’t done anythin’, Baxbary would ’ave gotten rid of ’is dad some’ow.”

  “It’s not your fault he took his own life, Duncan,” Edwin said. “You’re not responsible for his actions.”

  Duncan listened to his friends, but he didn’t believe them. He knew they were trying to help, but he also knew he’d carry the guilt to his grave.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he replied. “I best get going.”

  He picked up his trousers from the corner and stood by the bedroom door. Without turning around, he said, “Thank you. Both of you. No one’s ever… I’ve never had friends like you before. I’m very lucky to have you.”

  He passed Mrs. Knight in the hall and she raised an accusatory eyebrow. Duncan didn’t care. There were no circumstances under which he would have explained himself and so he ignored her and carried on to his own room.

  EDWIN CLIMBED INTO the warm bed where Duncan had lain and snuggled up under one of Robin’s massive arms.

  “Do you think he’ll manage?” Edwin asked.

  “I think so. At least ’e’s got it off ’is chest. You know, I think it were you what got ’im to open up about what ’appened.”

  Edwin was slightly taken aback. “Me? Why?”


  “I dunno, ’e’s different around you, more…open. Unguarded, even. You know ’ow little ’e trusts other people, but there’s somethin’ about you that makes people comfortable.”

  “I bet the decanter full of brandy helped.”

  Robin chuckled, his broad chest rising and falling. “Well, yes, there is that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen ’im so drunk. I still can’t believe ’e never breathed a word of it when were together,” Robin whispered. “’E kept it all to ’imself all these years. So much left unsaid. But then, that were always the way with us.”

  “He’s always behaved as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders,” Edwin said. “Now we know why.”

  DOWNSTAIRS, EVA AND Iris were already seated at the dining table, smiling brightly.

  “Oh, my!” Eva exclaimed. “Don’t you all look worse for wear this morning!”

  Edwin squinted in the bright room. “Less volume, please, Lady Wolfe-Chase!”

  They each gladly downed the glass of water placed in front of them.

  “I take it the festivities didn’t end after we retired?” Iris said.

  “Not exactly,” Robin replied, his cap pulled low to shield his eyes and his cravat trailing from his breast pocket. “We might ’ave ’ad one or two more.”

  “Well, let this be a lesson to you all about knowing your limits,” Eva smirked as she fixed her napkin.

  Mrs. Knight entered and stood by the wall. The butler was personally overseeing the footmen as they brought in hot breakfast on silver trays.

  “I noticed you three spent the night together,” Mrs. Knight said with an unguarded sneer. “I didn’t realise you were a triune.”

  “We are definitely not,” Duncan said, laughing defensively.

  It wasn’t unheard of for couples on the mainland to extend their relationship to include a third person, either temporarily or permanently. It was less common on the islands purely as a result of the smaller populations. Eva knew Mrs. Knight didn’t care what people did with their love lives, it was just her way of making these men understand she noticed everything happening under (what she so clearly thought of as) her roof.