by C F White
“Right.” Callum nodded, like he understood. He didn’t really. He could hardly focus on anything as it was and every word Kez spoke felt as if Kez was calling to him through a tunnel. Maybe it was just the weirdness of this whole situation. Of being here. Fuck, I’m tired.
“I write up notes, take calls from irate parents, schedule appointments and generally act as a buffer for anyone who wants a bit of the doctor. Which, recently, has become more the job than anything else.”
Callum must have given him a confused look.
Kez chuckled. “Sorry. Office gossip. One of my doctors got himself into a bit of bother and has been avoiding people. It’s getting difficult to schedule his appointments at times when others aren’t in.”
“Right.”
“Are you working?”
And there was the inevitable question. Why did I have to start all this shit? He shook his head. “Not really.”
Kez nodded into his mug, disapproval written all over his face. Normally, Callum wouldn’t have cared all that much. He’d have blamed the state of the government—not that he even knew who was ruling the country, but he’d heard the word Brexit branded around for so long now it had to mean something. Or he’d complain about the run-down London borough that couldn’t provide jobs for the most educated of its residents, let alone an ex-con. But it was about time he faced facts. Not everything was always someone else’s fault.
“I was. For a bit.” Callum didn’t miss the disappointment on Kez’s face. “As a brickie. But got laid off. Been trying to find more work, but, well, it’s been shit times for labouring. Even when I offer to do it cash in hand. And finding anything else is a bit hard what with…everything.” And everything meaning him.
Kez shuffled forward in his seat. “I can imagine. Listen, perhaps we need to talk, about stuff?”
“Do we? Right now?” Callum hacked up another cough into a balled fist, his eyes bulging and his face scorching. “Shit, Kez, I’m fucking beat. And this, I’m grateful, yeah? Really. But if I have to talk now, I might say something I don’t mean. Or maybe I do mean it. Shit, maybe I should have stayed at the community centre.” Or on the streets.
“No. No, it’s okay. You’re right. Not a good time. I just thought it best to address the elephant in the room, y’know?”
Elephant? More like a fucking great woolly mammoth.
“I know. But not now. I ain’t got the brain capacity to talk about all that.” Callum had more worrying things on his mind, like where he was going to go tomorrow to avoid…well, everything.
Another deep ping from Kez’s pocket stifled any response and Callum was kind of grateful for it.
“Sorry.” Kez stood, fishing his phone out from his trousers. “I should probably respond to this, or it might not stop.”
“Oh right, sure. You meant to be somewhere? Working from home?” Callum added the quotations marks for that one.
Noticeably pausing, Kez didn’t look up from his phone screen. He shuffled, his shoulders tensing. “I had a date. Which I forgot to cancel.”
Callum did not expect the rapid tightness to close in around his chest. No, it’s my lungs. He coughed to make sure. But something still lingered there, squeezing him to make it difficult to breathe, let alone form words for a nonchalant response to Kez’s equally as flippant statement. Yet he had to say something. Anything.
“Right. Shit. Course. Sorry. I really have ruined your evening, then.” Callum sniffed, squaring his shoulders. “You can still go. You can trust me here.” He had to laugh after saying that, and had to clear his throat again as his voice had gone hoarse. Perhaps that fag hadn’t been the best idea. “Sorry. But you can. Don’t make the same mistake twice, eh?” Plus, he’d left the ‘mistake’ in his burning building.
“No. It’s fine.” Kez still didn’t look at him and slid his thumb along the screen of his phone as if it were the answer to everything.
Callum swore he saw a slight tinge forming on Kez’s cheeks and he tilted his head, like a bird scrutinising oncoming prey.
“The date was back near work.” Kez peered up over his phone, looking Callum in the eye. Did Callum only imagine that it took all Kez’s effort to do so? “Raff’s a doctor. Well, just graduated PhD researcher. Works on the grants for the charity part of the hospital.”
“Nice.” So Kez has a boyfriend, and one who’s all types of fucking perfect. And Kez was confident about it all. He’d just said all that as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be dating a man with no fear of repercussions. Things do change. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” He waved a hopefully dismissive hand.
Staring at him, Kez appeared to be contemplating all the options and drafting out all possible scenarios. Perhaps even one that regretted having offered up his sofa to Callum—a man he hadn’t spoken to in five years. Callum found it hard to believe Kez still even knew who he was. Course he knows. Once upon a time we was all each other had.
“I’ll take the call upstairs.” Kez waggled the mobile. “There’s no point heading back to Holborn now. Help yourself to anything. The food, the shower, the TV. I’ll bring down some blankets and stuff in a sec.”
Callum nodded his thanks and tried not to watch Kez walk around the room and rush out on excitable legs. Only once Kez was out of sight did Callum exhale a lungful of smoke-clouded breath that crackled in his knotted chest. He slammed back the rest of his tea, hoping the liquid would relieve the irritation in his throat, and cupped the mug between his legs.
Wonder what Mr. Perfect looks like? Kez’s type, probably. White, blond, pretty-boy. Callum shook his head and scrubbed his dry hands down his face. And what might Mr. P. H. Dick think of Kez bringing home a stranger to stay in his house? Well, not so much a stranger, but he doubted Mr. Wonderful would know about his and Kez’s past.
Callum sometimes had difficulty remembering.
Chapter Five
Near Miss
Kez rushed up the stairs and into his bedroom, closing the door fully behind him. His phone buzzed again, reminding him he had several missed messages. He should have remembered to at least drop Rafferty a text to call off the date, but his head had been all over the place since finding out about the Marlyte fire. And Callum. So much for when he’d been counting down the seconds until work finished.
Shit. Work. He’d better send Lisa a message, too, just to see if there had been any fallout from his swift exit. He rushed off a brief apology to his co-worker, assuring her he would be in tomorrow and buy her a massive donut from the bakery on the way in. Send. Done.
Coughing from downstairs jolted him back to the reality of what he had done. Christ. What a day. Should he tell Raff? Or just hope that it never came up and Callum found somewhere to go before Kez could rearrange what had meant to be his first date with the new doctor? Kez had never been very good at lying, though. Callum could corroborate that.
Shaking off the unseasoned feelings of regret, Kez slapped on his smile and settled back on his bed to hit the Call button. He held the mobile between his chin and shoulder so he could roll up his shirtsleeve. His prosthetic casing was itching and the weight dragging him down. As the phone was answered, Kez unclipped the arm and placed it on the table beside his bed.
“Kwesi? Bloody hell! Where have you been?”
Kez smiled at the plummy delivery in the man’s words. Kez hadn’t noticed quite how softly spoken Rafferty was. Perhaps it was now he was comparing him to Callum’s rougher tones. The brash East London hadn’t left Callum. In a way, it had sharpened.
“Sorry, Raff, I should have called sooner—”
“That would have been nice, yes. I stood outside for ages! I nearly went home thinking I’d been stood up but thought I’d check by your office in case you were snowed under. I was told you ran out in a blind panic. Are you okay?”
“You went to my office?” Great. The secret was out. Not that he was keeping his workplace flirting a secret from everyone. It was just that it wasn’t quite there yet. In his ex
perience, once everyone knew that there was a romance on the horizon then everyone expected updates. He would have preferred a little time getting to know the man before everyone else got involved. Perhaps he shouldn’t have agreed to date a man from the hospital. But as that was where he spent most of his time, it was hard not to. St. Cross might as well launch its own dating app.
“Yes, I spoke to Lisa, is it? She seemed a trite put out.”
“Yeah. I can imagine.” Kez slipped down the bandage casing that held his prosthetic in place, then tugged it off and draped it beside the artificial limb. He flexed his elbow, the relief of losing the extra weight a welcome night-time affair. The fake limb was light enough, but not more so than when he was without it. He gave the stump a quick massage to tone down the odd feeling of his limb floating skywards. “Did you hear about the fire?”
“The one in Branton? Sure. It’s been all over the news.”
“My aunt lives there. Or, well, did.” Kez juddered. His aunt was now homeless and his childhood possessions that she had kept safe for him now ruined. He’d been so focused on Callum that he hadn’t had time to grieve his own loss.
“Kwesi, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
Sweetheart? That sounded…odd? Nice? Kez wasn’t sure.
“Is she okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes to both. She got out.” Won’t be detailing how. “She’s in Newham, being checked. She also has a broken ankle at the moment from slipping down the stairs last month. I had to go see her and I forgot to let you know. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no, no, I am! How selfish of me. Do you need anything? I could come by…”
Kez clutched the phone to his ear and paused. He needed a lot of things. A hug wouldn’t go amiss. But a loud bang from downstairs brought him back to earth with a bump.
“No.” He screwed his eyes shut. This wasn’t lying. Not really. Omission of details was not lying. Tell that to a court of law. “I’m tired. I’m just going to roll up in bed and face it all tomorrow.”
“Of course. No problem at all. We can rearrange our date.”
Kez winced at the regret crackling in Rafferty’s voice.
“Call if you need anything, though.”
Smiling, Kez bit his lip. It was a crying shame that their first date had been scuppered. Rafferty seemed perfect. And he wasn’t bad to look at either. The day that Kez had had to drop off a research proposal from Dr. Rawlings to the Grants Admissions Team and subsequently been unable to type in the door code and push down the handle whilst holding the thick binder had made Rafferty his knight in striking yellow Ralph Lauren polo.
Normally, Kez would have hated to be rescued like that. But that sweeping mound of wavy blond hair and soft blue eyes behind square black-rimmed glasses had captured Kez’s attention. Not to mention the Oxbridge accent that had been as smooth as honey. He’d never have even entertained the thought that any attraction would be returned. But an email had dinged through later that day and the inappropriate-for-work flirty email exchange had ensued, leading to the arrangement of a date.
“Listen, Raff, I really am sorry.” Kez scraped his stump along his forehead. “Not just about standing you up. This day’s been a bit of a headfuck. Excuse my language.”
“It’s understandable. Get some rest. We’ll talk again. I hope.”
“We will.”
After hanging up, Kez knocked his head against the wall behind until another crash from below jolted him from his self-torture. He rushed back downstairs and into the living room. Callum, head back on the sofa, snored from a wide-open mouth. His cup lay on its side on the coffee table with a dribble of tea splurging out onto the black wood. Rescuing the discarded mug, Kez gazed down at his old friend. Callum looked so vulnerable when asleep. He had a boyish charm, with some of his hair loosened from the knot and draped down one side to entangle with hazel-coloured eyelashes. The sight made Kez regret having not given him the benefit of the doubt all those year ago. At having walked away from him when he’d needed him more than anything. At having listened to his aunt rather than the man he’d… I what? Admired? Looked up to? Thought I knew inside out?
Who was he kidding? It would never be returned. He’d never hear those words back, so why keep trying? There were many mistakes that had led to their estrangement. None of which Callum could rectify for him. That had made it easier to move, forget and reform a new life without his best friend.
Now Callum was here, in his living room. Tomorrow would be a new day for them both. After rushing out to rinse the mug and returning with a blanket from the airing cupboard in his bedroom, Kez draped it over Callum, ruffled the strands of hair away from his face and nearly, very nearly kissed Callum’s forehead. Like he used to do when Callum hadn’t been conscious to notice.
And repeat mantra. I won’t be fooled again.
Chapter Six
FML
Callum awoke the next morning with a stink of a headache, aching muscles and what he could only assume was a temperature. Did he have the goddamn flu? Great. That was the last thing he needed. He dragged himself to a sitting position from the sofa and ripped off the blanket, coughing as he bent over double on his lap.
Appearing out of nowhere, Kez held out a tissue to him with true ninja-like skill. Or maybe Callum had been a little preoccupied at not throwing up an entire lung to have heard the man’s descent down the stairs. Accepting the tissue, Callum refocused his vision. Kez was wearing only a pair of boxers that stretched over his pert backside and hugged his stocky thighs. Callum averted his gaze to something else. Anything else. Anything that wasn’t black skin shimmering against the rays of sunlight that burned through the gap of the closed curtains. It landed on the picture propped up on the mantelpiece.
“How’s auntie?” Callum sounded like he’d smoked the entire pack of fags last night. He couldn’t feel them shoved in his pocket and wondered if that weren’t true. “I mean how was she doing? Before yesterday?”
“Good. Same as. Church, cooking.”
Callum nodded, hanging his head. “Miss her dumplings.”
Kez didn’t say anything. It was probably a conversation best left there anyway. Callum did miss her though. Even if he had been living only a few doors down from Eve for a while now, since his release from the parole board’s approved address. He’d made sure he missed her. Avoided her, more like.
Kez glided over to the window. For a stocky bloke, he moved with an ease and control that Callum was unfamiliar with. He’d been all out of alignment when Callum had known him. All knees and elbows. Callum smiled. Kez’s strong muscles tore through his skin and Callum couldn’t help but stare at him. Until Kez ripped open the heavy-duty black-out curtains and in poured the glorious sun from outside to distort Callum’s vision. Lucky, ’cause Kez might have caught him gaping at him.
“Looks like a scorcher of a day.” Kez span to face him. “That I’ll miss being in an artificially lit hospital.”
“You going in?”
“Have to really. I can probably sort out more stuff for Auntie if I do. Plus my doctor will have a shit fit if I call in.”
Did that mean Callum was going to be left alone? He wasn’t sure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure what to make of anything. He was struggling to understand what he was even doing here at all. Yesterday was some hazy mist of strange happenings. Maybe it hadn’t happened at all? Maybe this whole thing was artificial.
Speaking of artificial… “Do you not sleep with it?” Callum nodded to Kez’s arm, void of the fake limb he’d had attached last night.
Kez’s smile lifted his cheeks and his pink tongue poked through the gap between his lips. What the fuck! Why am I staring at his mouth? His tongue? Look the fuck away, Wrighty, before you get a slap.
“No,” Kez replied. “It’d be like sleeping with a bag on your back, or a hat on your head. It’s just an addition to my body, not actually part of it.”
Callum nodded. Then exploded into another coughing fit. What the fuck must I look lik
e right now? Sweat-induced clothes, wafting stale smoke from clammy, pale skin. He wanted to joke this clusterfuck away and remind Kez of how it had used to be, before everything that had torn them apart. It had once been Callum that all the girls had chased back in school. Not that Kez had wanted girls. No, he always wanted… Callum swallowed. The tables were well and truly turned now. It was Kez who had the blokes chasing him, and from what Callum could see, for good reason. Give him both arms and the man wouldn’t have a single thing to worry about. Things really do change though. Once upon a time, Callum had wanted to change the world and change how people saw Kez. He’d used to be fiercely loyal.
Eyes streaming, Callum composed himself and wiped away the remnants with the grotty tissue scrunched into his hand.
“Were you checked out after the fire?” Kez drew in troubled eyebrows.
Callum did his best to focus on the eyes and not the near-naked body that had filled out in the five years since his eighteenth birthday—the last time Callum had seen that much of Kez’s skin. Kez’s broad chest now had a healthy scattering of curly black hair over each hard nipple, and whilst not technically a washboard stomach, it still looked like a balled fist would bounce off it and crush the knuckles in the process.
“No, why?” Callum cleared his throat.
“You don’t sound too good.” Kez edged nearer, his groin within Callum’s line of sight.
Christ. What was this? His worst nightmare? Keep telling yourself that, Wrighty— one day you might believe it.
Kneeling down to look Callum in the face, Kez exhaled cool, minty breath to trickle on Callum’s flushed cheeks. It was a welcome relief from the hot sweats.
“You should have been checked over by a doctor. In case you inhaled any smoke.”
“Course I inhaled smoke, you prat. I had a fag last night.”
“I don’t mean that sort of smoke.” Kez spread one hand out on his thigh, the stump resting against his other. “You should see someone today.”
“I don’t need it, bruv, I’m good. I just woke up, having slept on a sofa. I’m just a little frazzled.” He circled his shoulders. “I’ll be all right after a coffee.”