Page 85 of Oz
“Well, that’s because he was a wanker. It’s yours and that’s an end to it.”
“Oh, Silas, I love how you think your word is law.” He shakes his head. “It isn’t.” He holds up a hand to stem the flow. “No. It’s non-negotiable. I’ve never used it. It’s just been sitting in my bank account gathering dust.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s tainted. It should go to help here. It’ll make me very happy to know it’s paid a bill. Then I can stick two fingers up at the old tosser because he hasn’t fucked us over.”
“He won’t,” I say urgently. “We’ve got it under control.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Oz, of course.”
A smile ticks his mouth. “Oh, of course. You and Oz.”
I can’t figure out his mood. “Don’t you like him?” I ask, and I’m absolutely astonished when he starts to laugh. “Henry,” I warn.
He stops laughing and slings his arm around my shoulder, kissing my forehead. “I adore him,” he says quietly. “Absolutely and utterly. He’s perfect.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say perfect,” I mutter.
“Perfect for you,” he whispers. He drops his arm and we stare out to sea. If someone had left a camera filming this beach during our childhood and adolescence, at some point every day our figures would have appeared and done exactly this. Stared out to sea, laughed and talked.
“I was worried about you,” he mutters, and I jerk.
“Why?”
“Because you never had anyone of your own.”
“I’ve had lots of anyones.”
“But now you’ve got a someone,” he says solemnly. “And it’s right.”
I sigh. “You do know he’s going back in a few weeks? His job is nearly done. He’ll go back to London because that’s where he belongs.”
“He belongs here with you,” he says fiercely. “I always worried because we know from firsthand experience that Ashworth partners don’t seem to adapt well to living here.”
“That’s an understatement,” I mutter.
“But I’m not worried now. He belongs here as if he was made for this place and it was waiting for him. He’s just at home.”
“I know,” I say low. “But I can’t make him stay and he always said this was just for the summer. I think he’s close to admitting that he feels something for me, but he’s gun shy to say the least and I can’t push.” I shrug. “It’s hard because I want to grab him and force him to see how right we are together, but that would send him scurrying back to London quicker than Dick fucking Whittington. I don’t think your welcome to the family comment last night went down too well either.”
“Shit!” He sighs. “I didn’t mean that. It just came out.”
“Well, zip it back up again and don’t say things like that. Save the honesty about feelings for your boyfriend.”
He snorts but then sobers. “Do you love him?”
“Of course,” I say, and I can hear the astonishment in my voice.
“Then it will all be okay,” he says peacefully.
I stare at the side of his face which is reddening slightly with a blush. “Henry, tell me it isn’t true. Have you become aromantic?”I enquire in an astonished voice.
“Oh, fuck off,” he says sourly. He shrugs. “I just believe in love more now that I’m in it.”
I shake my head. “Come what, come may.”
