Page 153 of A Night with Damien Spur

That last night, our last time together. New Year’s Eve, before I left for Athens.

What a night. We were so in love again. No lies. We finally made it. But it was too late. It wasn’t to be. LA was waiting for you and Greece for me…

And now here I am with a man who doesn’t understand me. I have to simplify everything I say. No exchange of ideas.

I’m not even sure that the baby is his. That last night, what if… ?

Damien!said the Voice.Maybe your parting shot could be a life-changer. Does this mean little Achilles here is yours?

Damien tipped back his chair and reached for his squeeze ball. ‘Well, Theo, this is certainly a turn-up for the books. Even from the grave, Laura has managed to shake up the DNA. So.’ He squeezed the ball. ‘This is very stressful. Just give me a second to think.’

The young man watched as Damien shut his eyes. His mouth twisted in a grimace as if he were in pain.

‘Okay,’ said Damien at last. ‘There are two ways to go here. Maybe it would be better to let matters rest. Close the book and let things stay as they are. Don’t allow Laura’s mischief to change the status quo. Don’t question who’s your father.’

‘Or?’ Theo said.

Come on, Damien, look at him, the Voice said.There’s definitely a likeness. That nose, straight and elegant, just like yours. And his height. Wouldn’t it be great! There’s finally someone who has come into your life that might give you some stability, responsibility. It’s just what you need. Think of it, the student from abroad, just as thetarot cards predicted.

‘I don’t really want to suggest the second option,’ Damien said. ‘Imagine going back to the man who brought you up and telling him he isn’t your father.’

‘That’s not a problem,’ Theo said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘My father’s dead. He gave me the diary before he passed away. Told me to find you. He knew I might not be his son. Said it didn’t matter, he loved me anyway.’

And then Theo wept. Just as Damien had when his own father died.

Damien held him, let him cry, until the final gasp of relief came, and he was still.

‘So, Theo, shall we have a DNA test?’

‘Maybe?’ he said. ‘But suppose you’re not my father? How would that change things?’

‘A difficult question,’ Damien mused. ‘Especially as we’ve only just met. Perhaps we should wait. Get to know each other first.’

Yes, good idea, said the Voice.The poor lad looks so lost.Why don’t you cook him dinner, let him spend the night? It’s the least you can do after he’s come all the way from Athens to meet you. And, between you and me, it’s all terrific material for your next book.

Theo was happy to stay. He sat in the kitchen watching Damien prepare a seafood pasta with courgette noodles.

‘Such a wonderful alternative to spaghetti.’ Damien pushed the courgette through the blades, twisting it round and round as the little green spirals slid into the bowl. ‘You try.’

‘My first cooking lesson,’ Theo replied. ‘My maybe-father couldn’t even make a cup of tea. When I was little, any time my stepmother, Elvira, went to see her sister in Mykonos he would take me to the local taverna. I could have anything I liked on the menu. I usually chose fried calamari, my favourite, while I watched him play tavli. He was really good and usually won. Knew all the odds. Afterwards he would play with me, explaining the strategy and logic of the game. He was really my first maths tutor. It’s thanks to him I discovered my love for mathematics.’

‘Well, not a bad adventure for a young lad. I bet you hadfun.’

‘Yes, I did.’ Theo beamed, the memory still warm. ‘And now it’s your turn. Tell me about Laura.’

A flicker of pain crossed Damien’s eyes.

‘Where do I even begin? Laura hid the truth behind so many lies.’ Damien noticed Theo’s feet. He was wearing sandals and had long slender toes just like his. ‘She probably would have made a great spy,’ Damien continued. ‘Never broke her cover. But I don’t want to talk badly of your mother. I was madly in love when I married her. That you should know.’

He felt comfortable talking with Theo, stirring the courgette pasta, when the doorbell rang.

‘Can you answer it?’ he said.

‘Sure. Who’s there?’ he asked through the intercom.

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