To his bewilderment, they both cracked up.It must be a gay thing,he thought, bemused.
* * *
In the end, they had pasta and garlic bread. Freddie and Ken drank lots of red wine and kept up a steady stream of light-hearted chatter, trying to distract Will from the fact that Kate still hadn’t come home. Afterwards they watched the high-school-prom movie, which Will found surprisingly moving. Freddie sobbed openly, plucking fistfuls of tissues from a box. As the credits rolled, he had a text message from Kate to say she wouldn’t be coming home. He showed it to Will:
Staying here 2nite. 2 long 2 explain. CU 2moro. KateX
Freddie tried to ring her back, but her phone was switched off. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ he said consolingly to Will, who looked really dejected.
‘I’d better get off.’ Will got up to leave.
‘Oh no, stay here with us.’ Freddie said.
‘Oh, I couldn’t?—’
‘Of course you can – you can have Kate’s room, since she won’t be home. You don’t want to spend the night on your own in that big empty house of yours.’
Thinking about it, Will realised Freddie was right – he didn’t want to go home alone. ‘Thank you, you’re very kind,’ he said, sinking back into the sofa.
‘Besides,’ Freddie said, giving his knee an affectionate squeeze, ‘you don’t want to missFist of Glory.’
* * *
‘Well, that was… educational,’ Will said, yawning, an hour and a half later.
‘Oh, you’re absolutely knackered,’ Freddie said. ‘You should have just gone to bed. Come on and I’ll show you where everything is.’
Left alone in Kate’s room, Will sat on the bed and drank in her presence. He liked being among her things, taking in the pictures on the walls, the jumble of clothes spilling out of herwardrobe, the piles of shoes, the suitcases and storage boxes slung on top of the cupboards, the Manhattan skyline of cosmetics on the dressing table. It was as if by concentrating hard on the things she had touched he could somehow conjure her presence.
Why hadn’t she come home? he fretted, getting up and fingering the jumble on her dressing-table, picking up necklaces, opening bottles of perfume and breathing in the fragrance. He picked up a photograph that was propped against a jewellery box, smiling at the picture of Kate and Freddie mugging drunkenly for the camera at a New Year’s Eve party. As he was putting it back, another, slotted into the mirror frame, caught his eye – a picture of her and Brian holding hands and beaming at each other. Where the hell was she? he thought, scowling at it.
He sat down on the bed again, flopping back against the pillows, drawing comfort from the thought that Kate had lain there too and wishing she was with him now. Then, too exhausted even to think any more, he undressed and crawled under the duvet.
When Freddie looked in on his way to bed, Will was out cold.
‘Oh, look,’ he said dotingly, beckoning Ken to the open doorway.
‘So peaceful, isn’t he?’ he whispered as Ken came to stand with him, putting an arm around his shoulders.
‘Poor bloke! He’s really been through the mill.’
They stood for a moment, watching Will sleep.
‘This must be what it’s like having a child,’ Freddie muttered. ‘Maybe we should adopt.’
‘Maybe we should.’ Ken squeezed his shoulder. ‘You’d make a great parent.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Freddie’s face lit up.
‘Absolutely. You were terrific with him tonight.’
Freddie sighed happily and turned back to Will.
‘Freddie?’ Ken murmured, when he showed no sign of moving.
‘Mmm?’ Freddie said distractedly.
‘You do know we can’t adopthim?’
