Page 39 of The Fete of Summer

“And are you okay with that?”

Jaymes had never hidden the nature of his vocation, or the fact that he spent much of his time travelling the globe. If anything, Nathan was envious. Unlike Nathan, Jaymes had his dream job.

“Three months with you as opposed to what?” asked Nathan. “Not a difficult one to answer, Jaymes.”

“But—”

“No buts. Well, maybe in the bedroom. This way, we both know the score going in. We can keep things physical and unemotional.”

“You can do that?”

“The crucial thing, Jaymes, is that I don’t want this to be a one-off.”

Even as the words left his mouth, Nathan knew he would have a hard time trying to keep his heart in check. Jaymes smiled affectionately before taking a deep breath and shaking his head.

“Nathan Fresher, you are full of surprises. Sit down and let me serve you breakfast.”

Over plates of poached eggs on Fresher’s toasted ciabatta, Mikey’s Lincolnshire sausages and strips of back bacon, with sauteed mushroom and onion and grilled tomatoes, Nathan and Jaymes sat enjoying the morning. Jaymes believed in starting the day right. Nathan rarely enjoyed his living space as much, usually spending Sunday mornings sitting in bed poring over a Sunday newspaper with coffee and a plate of buttered toast. Jaymes provided easy company, laughing easily and filling the pauses with talk about his work or reading something aloud out of a newspaper. At first Nathan wondered where the music came from, but then he noticed Jaymes had placed his phone upright against the fruit bowl, letting soft jazz from a music app accompany the morning fare.

“Don’t you play footy on Sunday?”

“There’s no game this week. Just as well. I have my solicitor’s appointment today in Eastbourne.”

“And I’m coming along,” said Jaymes before apparently remembering something. “Shit, my Rover.”

“We can take my van. If you really want to come.”

“Of course I want to come. Give you a bit of support. What time do we need to be there?”

“Appointment’s at eleven-thirty. I’ve dug out my birth certificate and some other papers they’ve asked to see. It should take around forty minutes to get there, but I suggest leaving an hour, in case of traffic and finding parking. And after cooking breakfast—along with everything else—I think it’s only fair I buy you a light lunch after we’re done. I know a great little spot.”

“Lunch date, huh?” said Jaymes, grinning playfully.

“Excellent,” said Nathan, taking a mouthful of coffee. “For a change, my calendar has more than just bill payment reminders.”

They fell into a comfortable silence again as Ella Fitzgerald sangA Fine Romancefrom Jaymes’ phone.

“You called me Jay last night?”

“Did I? I don’t remember. I might have been distracted. Is that a problem?”

“I liked it.”

Nathan felt his cheeks warm and went into deflection mode.

“Hey, do you think Polly went out with Benny Cheung last night?”

In the process of popping a corner of buttered toast into his mouth, Jaymes froze.

“Footballer? From the pub? Good-looking Asian guy?”

“The same.”

Crunching loudly on the bread, Jaymes shook his head.

“Not in a million years.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

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