Rhapsody on a Theme (13 page)

Darren was quiet for a moment. “We found each other like that,” he said after a little while, and Jayden felt suddenly sharply guilty.

“I don’t mean we didn’t,” he said quickly. “I mean, we did, I know, but I feel like we had to go through hell and high water to get here and Ethan’s just
found
her and…”

“And don’t you think that would pay off? If we got married, we’d probably stay married because, you know, it’s been seven years or something and we’ve seen each other at our ugliest. My ugliest especially.”

“Don’t.”

“But Ethan and Lillian haven’t done that yet, so there’s a big risk in this wedding,” Darren continued blithely and shrugged. “Being married doesn’t change that. Any relationship has that.”

Jayden hummed and unwound himself to kiss Darren’s cheek. “You know,” he said, “if we got married, your parents would probably have seizures or heart failures or something.”

Darren smirked. “Probably.”

“You’re forever for me, you know,” Jayden added lowly.

Darren took a deep breath and tightened the arm around Jayden’s waist. “I know,” he said, “but I don’t want to get married.”

Jayden blinked. That wasn’t the response he’d been expecting in the slightest, and for a brief second, the voice in his head shrieked
, WHY?!
in hysteric denial before his rationality caught up and asked, “Why?” in a calmer tone. Because there had to be a reason. Darren always had reasons—maybe weird ones, or wrong ones, but he always did, right from the beginning when he’d offered Jayden an out because of the depression, and…

And was that it?

“Because if I ever get married, it’ll be because I’m at least better than I am now,” Darren said and shrugged. “Marriage is permanent—least to me it is. Mother’s never are and that’s weird to me. Marriage is
it
, it’s saying there’s never a chance at anyone else for either of you, and I’m not trapping someone else—least of all you—into that when I’m still fucked in the head.”

Jayden scowled and shook him sharply, suddenly angry. “
Don’t
,” he insisted, then softened, sliding his arms around Darren’s shoulders to hug him. “You’re still mine for good, you know,” he said. “Whether we ever got married or not. I don’t
need
the chance at anyone else, idiot.”

“Not even that guy out of
Being Human
?”

“Not even him,” Jayden said and paused. “Well. Maybe
one
chance at him. If, you know, I ever met him, maybe.”

Darren laughed, resting his hands on Jayden’s hips and swaying them very lightly. “If you’re still hungry, there’s a pub on the corner that does sandwiches. They’re trying to sort out the tie things.”

“Cravats,” Jayden said and rolled his eyes. “For a posh boy, you’re really ignorant.”

“You’re the Cambridge student, not me.”

“For all of a year," Jayden huffed and changed the subject back to its original topic. “You’re not wearing a cravat, then?”

“Nah. I get to wear a normal suit,” Darren said. “Matching colour tie, though. Sandwich and a pint while they kill each other?”

“One pint.” Jayden poked him in the arm, and unhooked them in deference to the risks of entering a pub in an area of London with which neither of them were familiar. “And you’re paying.”

“I
always
pay,” Darren pointed out. “I’ve been paying since we were sixteen, for like everything.”

“Your parents are richer.”

“You’re twenty-three and you have a job. Start paying your way,” Darren sniped, holding the door, but despite his words the wallet was extracted from his pocket as they approached the bar. Jayden smirked. He had this man
caught
, and he knew it. “And get a decent sized lunch,” Darren advised.

“Why?”

“Apparently Lillian’s into
salads
.”

They had gone to the hotel briefly after lunch to check in and drop off their bags—and Jayden had been so taken by the enormously, ridiculously fluffy pillows that he’d tried to smother Darren with one, just to see if it was possible—and so met Paul outside the restaurant that evening, running slightly late and with Darren offering him dirty looks whenever humanly possible.

“What happened to you?” Paul asked, eyeing the wilder-than-usual curls.

“Him,” Darren said, jerking a thumb at Jayden.

Paul wrinkled up his nose.

“Seriously, when did you get prudish? You used to press for details,” Darren complained, and Jayden huffed.

“It’s
nice
,” he said tartly. “One of your friends has learned personal boundaries. It’s nice.”

“Like you can talk. Personal boundaries! You try and hug me to death in my sleep. In
your
sleep half the time too.”

“
We’re
not meant to have personal boundaries,” Jayden said loftily. “He is.”

Paul grinned. “In all seriousness,” he said, “when Ethan had his gay experience in uni. He wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks, like going into all the details and stuff, and it was kind of gross, you know? I didn’t want to
really
think about my mates doing any of that. It’s kind of weird, right?”

“No, not really.”

“Lucky you. Table for five,” Paul added to the hovering waiter. “Summerskill.”

“Where is he anyway?”

“Lillian’s running late from work.”

“What does she do?” Jayden asked.

“Can’t remember. Only met her once or twice myself.” Paul shrugged. “So anyway, Jade…” Jayden scowled. “How’s the rag—I mean paper—going?”

They talked shop for a little while, about Paul’s city job and Jayden’s work with the paper and the blog, and Darren sat back and watched. Jayden was keeping him on soft drinks after the lunchtime pint, but he didn’t seem to mind, and if he was a bit quiet, then…well, he was always a
bit
quiet. He was an introvert, and it had been a long day already. He was probably fine. Especially as he didn’t like London, he never had, he found it claustrophobic and loud and far too hectic, so it was probably just that. Jayden kept half an eye on him, but let him be.

When he went to the toilet, however, Paul leaned towards Jayden over the table and said, “How’s Daz doing anyway?”

“Doing…?”

“Mentally.”

“Oh,” Jayden said. “Um. Well, you know, he’s okay at the minute…”

“Yeah, but I mean long-term,” Paul said ruthlessly.

Jayden hesitated.

“He’s not, you know…” Paul made a slicing gesture towards his arm, and Jayden blanched in horror.

“What? Oh, no! God, no, no, he’s not…why? Why would you…?”

“Remember school? He always rolled his sleeves up. Hated the cuffs, even if it meant showing off, you know. What he’d done. Everyone knew he did it. But he wouldn’t roll them up in the tailor’s today, he had them buttoned and everything.”

“He’s gotten used to long sleeves,” Jayden said. “That’s all. When we were saving up for the house, we kept the heating really in low in his little flat to cut the bills, so he got used to them. He’s not…I check. I’d know if he was.”

Paul regarded him seriously for a moment—which was odd in itself—before nodding. “Okay. Good.”

Jayden frowned. “You’ve changed.”

“Have I?”

“You were always so…carefree and everything, like nothing could faze you, and…”

“Yeah, well.” Paul shrugged. “You weren’t the only one rattled by him trying to off himself in first year, you know? I always knew he was a bit fucked up inside—my aunt’s got depression, I knew when I met him he wasn’t all there—but I guess that hit it home. And I know we don’t see as much of each other these days, but Daz is a bloody good friend and an utter prick to go with it, so…I got scared that day. And I don’t want it happening again. I try and keep a better eye out, you know, but…not easy on the phone, is it?”

Jayden bit his lip. “You should tell him that you care, you know,” he said quietly after a moment. “You should always tell people that you care.”

“Nah.” Paul snapped his fingers. “We just don’t click on that level, him and me.”

“Who don’t click on what level?”

“Your boyfriend’s asking me for a threesome,” Paul said, flawlessly fast, and Jayden kicked him under the table as Darren dropped back into his seat.

“That’d be a real sandwich,” Darren said agreeably. “White bread, Marmite filling.”

“Shut your face,” Paul said. “And not a chance. Much as you
obviously
want me…”

“Obviously,” Darren drawled, then his attention shifted—along with his eyes—and Jayden followed his gaze towards the doorway, and the fair-haired, lanky couple that had appeared in it.

“That’s her,” Paul said as Ethan led a blonde woman over to them.

Lillian was…well, Jayden was thrown back to Paul’s original description. She wasn’t a pretty girl at all: dirty blonde hair in a bad cut just below her chin, seriously big front teeth pushing out between her lips and forcing her mouth permanently open, and skinny in a way that made her look almost spidery: big hands, long fingers, long legs, and a tall neck. She wore a simple black dress that tried to flatter her figure, but she didn’t have much of a figure to flatter in the first place, and she was very tall for a woman, her feet looking enormous in tottery high heels. At her side, Ethan beamed like a two-year-old with a new ‘painting’ for his mother’s fridge.

“Guys, meet Lillian,” Ethan announced proudly.

She beamed and held out one of those gangly hands to Jayden. “Lillian Entwhistle,” she almost-lisped, and Jayden shook it.

“Um, Jayden Phillips.”

“You’re one of Ethan’s old school friends?”

“Er, yeah.”

“And that’s Daz,” Ethan said, her hand shifting seamlessly to shake Darren’s.

“Darren Peace,” came the smooth correction, and Darren’s upbringing took centre-stage as though he’d never left it behind at all. “Hampshire Police, and feel free to ignore everything about me that Ethan’s no doubt made up.”

“Oh, well, they were nice lies, then,” she said, still beaming, and took the seat opposite Darren, leaning forward to him and ignoring Ethan calling for the waiter. “You’re the pianist.”

“Casually, yes.”

“Did Ethan ask you to play at the church?”

“He did.”

“You’re classically trained, aren’t you?” she said, and Jayden exchanged wary looks with Paul. They didn’t discuss music, as a rule. Especially not classical music. “I did have a few ideas—I’m a cellist, you see, so I know my classical quite well, but Ethan’s not much one for it, he always plays modern interpretations and new compositions, so…”

“Darren’s not confirmed he will yet,” Ethan said, surprisingly diplomatically, and Jayden slid his fingers lightly into the crook of Darren’s elbow, silently pleading him to be nice. And to not…go strange.

“We can discuss
ideas
before a confirmation.” She waved him off. “A white wine?” she added, offering Ethan a beseeching look. She had very big blue eyes that were easily the prettiest part of her face.

“I’m happy to send a recording,” Darren said, sidestepping the discussion deftly. “But I can’t promise anything immediately, hence I’ve not confirmed it yet. Work is busy, and I have some other commitments for a while.”

“Oh, of course, it’s not a rush,” she said. “But…something lively? I want traditional, but traditional is also
boring
, so I wanted something livelier than a church organ.”

“Oh, Daz can do lively.” Paul grinned. “If you want some drinking songs.”

“Can’t play drinking songs if I’m not allowed to drink,” Darren said tartly, and Paul snickered.

“Whipped.”

“
Sensible
,” Jayden corrected, squeezing Darren’s elbow again. Lillian’s eyes flicked down to his fingers momentarily, although her expression didn’t change. “I’m Darren’s partner,” he said, before Darren could say anything. “That’s how I know Paul and Ethan.” Likely, without Darren, he would have been too shy to talk to them at St. John’s, even if he had gotten there.

“I think that’s sweet,” she said unexpectedly. “Ethan said you’ve been together for like eight years?”

“Seven-ish.”

“That’s
sweet
,” she repeated, then cocked her head. “Don’t you want to get married? I mean, obviously it’s only recently possible, but…”

“Not at the minute,” Darren said carefully. “So,” he pointed a long finger at Ethan, who had finally sat at the head of the table and was trying to get Lillian to take a menu, “how did you meet him? Because you might have heard of me, but I didn’t know you even existed until Paul rang up and said Ethan was getting hitched.”

Lillian laughed breathlessly. She had a high, nervous sort of voice, and Jayden felt a little sorry for her. She was clearly intimidated, likely by the way Darren would go so still and focused when interrogating somebody new, like a hawk watching for prey. It was a weird look, because it wasn’t his
actual
aggressive look, but it was the one that rattled people the most. Jayden remembered that feeling very clearly.

“He’s harmless,” he blurted out, and Paul laughed. Darren offered him an offended look, but it seemed to break through Lillian’s nervous tics, and she smiled widely.

“Am I that obvious?” she asked, then rolled those magnificently blue eyes. “Sorry, but it’s intimidating, you know. Ethan talks about the three of you so much, you’re all so important to him and you’ve known him so long. I just felt so nervous about tonight…”

“Well, don’t, Darren’s harmless really.”

“He’s bloody not,” Paul argued. “Didn’t he twat one of them lads at your old school within like, a week of meeting you?”

“Same day,” Darren corrected casually.

“Yeah, don’t put coffee in Jayden’s hair, Daz gets dead defensive,” Paul advised wisely. Lillian’s eyes widened.

“Someone poured coffee in your hair?!”

Jayden flushed hotly. “That was a long time ago,” he said primly, kicking Paul under the table again. “A
very
long time ago, and it’s ancient history. Look, let’s not talk about us? What about you and Ethan?”

She blushed prettily. “Um, on the London Underground, actually.” Her accent was somewhere closer to Cambridgeshire; Jayden remembered that particular way of saying
actually
. “I tripped and threw my portfolio all over the place and he stopped to help me and, well, I thought he was just lovely and just kind of handsome and offered to buy him a coffee and here we are.”