Rentboy (31 page)

“Does he? Why didn’t he tell me?”

“No one says,
I love flowers; buy me some
.”

“Oh, of course. Thanks, Alistair.”

Out on the street, Edward hurried toward the tube station. It was seven months since his knee had been shattered with a crowbar. The caliper with the screws was gone, but he still needed a patella-stabilizing knee brace, and he had a pronounced limp. It was seven months since Fox had been tortured on his father’s instructions. After months of cognitive behavioral therapy he was able to take a shower without an anxiety attack, and they had taken the twins swimming at the local rec center several times without incident. Fox could even laugh about it now. In Sainsbury’s the other day, he had gripped Edward’s arm and started to hyperventilate, pointing at the bin bags on the shelf as if they were explosives. Edward immediately hugged him, saying,
“It’s all right, dear,”
until Fox said,
“Time to laugh, Eddie.”

If Edward went to the flower shop on Colchester Street, it would mean he had to get off the Underground one stop early, which would make his walk longer. For Fox he would do it. He’d do anything for Fox. When you were used to being able-bodied, you never thought about how people managed who were not. Everywhere he had gone for the last seven months, he’d had to make a mental map in advance.
Do they have a lift or an escalator? Can I carry a bag and use my crutches at the same time? Will I have a free hand to hold on if I take a bus? How far can I walk before I am too tired to go any farther, and is there a bench for me to sit down?
Life was very different. He was grateful when he no longer needed the crutches, but he was far from recovered. He had also found that compensating for a gammy leg made the rest of his body ache too.

But some things were better. Dr. Howard’s death had been brushed under the carpet at LSHTM. No one spoke of him or knew the true circumstances. Edward had been made head of his department with an increase in salary. Things had settled back into a normal routine.

In the flower shop he bought a dozen roses. Red was too ordinary for Fox, so he got a rainbow of colors—yellow, peach, pink, white, and a couple of red. The rain started just as he reached the end of their street, and as always when he went home these days, he thought of the years he had lived on Great Russell Street, walking into an empty flat, eating Pot Noodles before climbing into an unmade bed to sleep alone.

The house they had bought was a narrow three-story terrace on an upmarket street in Shepherds Bush. They could have bought something more ostentatious between Fox’s inheritance and Edward’s salary, but Tara’s rehab and the school for the twins were expensive. Also they had talked about moving to the country in ten years or so, and they were already saving for it.

Walking up to the house always brought him a sense of warmth and a rush of happiness. In another year he hoped to be able to run, but for now just opening the front gate and hobbling up the narrow path was enough, especially knowing Fox was there to greet him. Fox had taken a year off college to settle the twins into their new school and to be free to visit Tara, so every evening when Edward returned, his man was there waiting for him

“Oh my God!” he said out loud.

In the front window was a huge hand-painted sign with a big rainbow on it and the words FOX LOVES EDDIE.

Before he could pull out his key the front door opened, and Fox came down the steps. The rain began in earnest, but Edward didn’t move. He just stood looking up at the sign while Fox hugged him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie. Are those flowers for me?”

“Of course they’re for you, dear.”

Fox took the bouquet and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. “I love flowers.”

“I wish you’d told me that before. I had no idea.”

“I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

He probably wouldn’t have. Thank goodness for Alistair.

Inside the front hall, Fox closed the door and helped Edward off with his jacket. It was a navy blue anorak with faux fur round the hood that Fox had bought him for Christmas. They had laughed hysterically about it at the time, but he had to admit it was very warm. Just the thing for London’s winter weather.

“Come into the living room,” Edward said. “I desperately need to sit down, and you can open your valentine present.”

“I’ll put the flowers in water first.” Fox hurried down the hall to the kitchen.

Fox had decorated the house and chosen all the furniture: brocade couches and chairs in dark, dramatic fabrics that Edward would never have thought of. Candelabrum on the mantelpiece, groups of photographs and paintings arranged in ways that drew the eye, interesting rugs on the hardwood floors—and they had curtains. Even the bathroom was great. Fox had insisted that if no other room in the house was Goth, then the bathroom had to be. He had decorated it in black and shocking pink with a crystal chandelier and mirrors everywhere. Edward’s parents had no idea what to make of the house, but Nik loved it.

“Fox,” Edward called after resting on the couch for several minutes. Receiving no answer, he hauled himself to his feet to struggle on his aching leg to the kitchen. The sight of Fox standing beside the counter with a small paring knife in his hand sent fear rippling through his gut. “No!”

“What?” Fox met his gaze.

Edward limped toward him and then took the knife from his hand. “Were you going to cut yourself?”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be a goof.” Fox smiled gently. “Haven’t you noticed? I haven’t cut myself since my dad died.”

Edward put the knife on the counter beside the bouquet. “Yes, of course I’ve noticed.” He pulled Fox into a tight embrace. “But I’ve been so scared you’d start again.”

“No,” Fox said, very firmly. “I won’t. And you should have talked to me about it if you were worried.”

“It’s a difficult subject. I didn’t want to bring it up.”

“Well, you should have,” Fox said. “We can’t have any secrets between us or stuff we don’t talk about openly. For years my dad beat the shit out of us, and we all pretended nothing was happening. My mum drank herself into oblivion every day, but we never said the word
alcoholic
. They knew I was cutting myself, but no one brought it up. Let’s not be like that, Eddie.” Fox pressed his forehead into Edward’s shoulder while Edward kissed him repeatedly on his ear and neck.

“No, dear, we won’t be like that, but promise me something. If you ever get the urge to cut again, come to me first, and we’ll talk about it. I don’t want you to hurt yourself ever again. Deal?”

“Deal,” Fox said, looking up at Edward.

“So what were you doing with the knife?”

Fox indicated the raffia tied in a bow around the flower stems. “I was going to cut it off.”

He released Edward and cut the tie on the flowers and then placed them with care into a red glass vase. “Come on, I’ll put them on the mantelpiece.”

In the living room Edward sat down gratefully on the couch, watching Fox position the vase so it looked perfect. “How’s that?”

“Lovely.” Edward patted the couch beside him. Fox joined him, leaning into his side. “I’ve never had anyone to give a valentine card to before. And I’ve never received one, so this is for you, my future husband.” First he handed Fox the card. “The writing might be a bit wonky. I wrote it on the train.”

The grin on Fox’s face when he pulled the card out of the envelope was priceless. “They look like us.” The sight of the two men on the front brought laughter bubbling up from them both.

With the life Fox had led, it always amazed Edward that his man could laugh at all, and yet he seemed so free-spirited and ready to have fun at any moment. When Fox opened the card and began to read, Edward dropped his chin against his chest. To make it worse Fox read it out loud.

“Dear.” He looked at Edward with a smile before continuing. “You cannot possibly know how very much I love you and how you have changed my life, so I will tell you. I was lonely, and I had given up on finding love. Every day was the same, work, home, sleep, work. I thought I would never have the family of my own I always wanted. Now I have everything, a family, happiness, and most of all, a wonderful man to come home to every day. You are my rainbow in the sky and my pot of gold at the end. You are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Love, Eddie. XXX.”

A long pause followed. Had he made a complete fool of himself yet again? Was Fox suppressing laughter at his clumsy words? He sneaked a looked sideways and saw tears running down Fox’s cheeks, streaking the black eye makeup he wore even at home. “Fox?”

“I love you so much, Eddie.” He laid his head on Edward’s shoulder, and for a minute they just sat together. “You’re the best.”

Sniffing loudly, Fox got up and returned a second later with a card that had no envelope and something else wrapped in a piece of red and gold cloth. Fox never used conventional wrapping.

“I made this card myself. I didn’t just paint it. I made the paper as well. At college we have a papermaking facility.” He sank down beside Edward again on the couch and handed him the card. In the middle was a rough rendition of a heart in pink and white watercolors. It was almost like a child’s painting, and yet it was clear it was done with skill, every brushstroke perfect. Over the heart Fox had written the words,
Eddie, here is my heart. It’s yours. Fox.

“Thank you,” Edward whispered. “My very first valentine card, ever.”

“And here’s your present.” Edward unwrapped the ten-by-ten unframed canvas. On the front was a house painted in oils with a print impressed over the top with all their names—Eddie, Fox, Alder, Arden. Beneath it was a series of dotted lines as if someone was left out.

“Who?” Eddie asked.

“That’s for the kids we’re going to adopt when we move to the country.”

“Five of them?” Surely that was too many.

“As many as will have us,” Fox said.

“What about Tara?”

“When mum is recovered, we’re going to find her a lovely bloke. One who’ll look after her and treat her the way she deserves to be treated. She’s going to have a real life. She’s going to have her very own Eddie.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Edward said. “You are everything I ever dreamed of in a man.” With the back of his hand Fox wiped off the wet eyeliner streaking down his cheeks. He looked at the mess, and they both laughed.

“The painting is unfinished,” Fox said, “because our love story is unfinished. As the years go by I’ll add a frame and more details. Maybe other things around the sides. And you will note it’s square.”

“Like me?” Edward asked.

“Exactly.”

“Well, this isn’t square.” Edward picked up the rainbow-colored bag from Gimme Gimme off the glass coffee table. “This is the height of kinky fashion.”

Grinning like an excited child, Fox pulled out the tissue paper and unwrapped the collar. “Oh shit! This is fab, Eddie.” He jumped up to look in the mirror above the old-fashioned mantelpiece while he fastened the collar round his neck. “Don’t I look great?”

“You always look great.”

Fox looked at the antique carriage clock below the mirror. “It’s twenty past four. We’ve got about ten minutes.”

“For what?”

“For a fuck. The twins will get off the school bus in ten minutes. Where haven’t we had sex?”

Edward looked around. “I don’t know. We’ve done it everywhere.”

“The kitchen table.” He grabbed Edward by the hand, dragging him out of the living room and along the hall to the kitchen where they ate most of their meals. In the middle of the table was a red hibiscus plant that the twins loved. Fox moved it to the windowsill before taking off his boots, followed by his jeans and undies. He sat on the edge of the table while Edward watched in horror.

“Fox, that’s very unhygienic!”

“Don’t panic. I’ll clean it with Dettol afterward.” He unfastened Edward’s belt and zipper.

Edward was already hard at the sight of Fox’s willy and balls. “What about lubrication?”

“Shove it in, and make it hurt,” Fox said.

The words Fox used always excited him. He wasn’t afraid to say things that Edward would find hard to say while alone. With Fox guiding his cock, he pushed hard until he was all the way up Fox’s rectum. Fox wrapped his legs around Edward’s hips. “I might fall. I’m still not that steady without my crutches.”

Edward placed his hands on the table on either side of Fox’s hips, and with Fox’s help, they fell quickly into rhythm. Edward had to brace his feet on the floor about a foot apart in order to stay upright. Fox leaned his skinny body closer to Edward’s so the friction from Edward’s belly would rub against his cock.

Fox closed his mouth over Edward’s, thrusting his tongue in deep, and they rocked back and forth while the pleasure in Edward’s willy built and built.

Fox cried out. He was always loud and unashamed of his pleasure. The sounds of his panting and moaning brought Edward over the edge. His orgasm rushed through his body, gripping his buttocks and thighs. Holding each other, they remained still, recovering, kissing each other on the face and neck, breathing hard.

“I love you so much, Fox.”

“And I love you, my geeky future husband.”

Screams from outside had them scrambling to tidy themselves up. Edward fastened his trousers while Fox grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. The twins always hammered on the door shouting their names—“Fox, Eddie, Fox, Eddie!”—even though it was usually only Fox there to greet them at that time of the day.

Barefoot, Fox hurried to the front door and opened it. Edward brought up the rear. The bus driver waved and drove off as the twins tumbled into the house, smiling.

They hugged Fox and then Eddie and took off their coats, which they hung up with care on their pegs. If anyone hung a coat on a peg that was not theirs, one of the twins was guaranteed to move it to the right one. Alder pointed up the stairs. “Mum?” Every day one of them asked the question.

“Not yet,” Edward said. “But as soon as she gets out of rehab she’ll be living in the flat on the third floor.” They had spent a lot of money installing a proper bathroom and kitchen upstairs so Tara could have privacy when she was well.