Joe opened the door. The man filling the doorway was huge—thick beard, solid shoulders, the kind of presence that pushed the air out of a room and probably Joe too.
“A little bird told me you’re living here with Kaden Bauer,” the man said. “That’s a breach of the tenancy agreement. One person per bedsit. Two of you violates health and safety and puts my licence at risk. You need to leave. Now.”
He folded his arms, blocking the exit. “Pack your shit.”
Joe’s heart hammered. He moved quickly, stuffing clothes into two shopping bags. Part of him wanted to believe this wasn’t permanent and he could slip back later, unnoticed. Another part whispered that maybe Kaden would be relieved.
The landlord ushered him downstairs and out onto the street. “Don’t hang around. If I see you in this building again, I’ll throw Kaden out too.” He slammed the door shut.
Joe started walking. He didn’t have enough money to buy a phone but he knew Kaden’s number. He’d have to persuade someone to let him make a call. Except even then, what could Kaden do? Joe couldn’t risk him losing his home because of him.
Alistair’s house. He knew where that was.
As he began to walk, he realised he should have left a note. He’d been too shaken to think clearly, though his writing skills were still poor.
Finding Alistair’s house wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be. By the time he reached the right street, he’d asked forty-three people if he could use their phone. Most didn’t answer, their eyes sliding past him as if he hadn’t spoken. The others said no. A couple had laughed. If Kaden had already left to go home, Joe would have to convince Alistair of who he was and ask him to call Kaden.
He knocked.
Alistair opened the door, Elsie pressed happily against his leg.
“Hi, Elsie.” Joe bent and stroked her. The dog’s tail thumped enthusiastically. Joe straightened. “Sorry. You’re Alistair. My name is Joe. I’m looking for Kaden. Is he still here?”
“Yes.” Alistair looked puzzled. “Come in.”
Kaden froze when Joe stepped into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “Your landlord said I had to leave immediately or he’d throw you out too. I needed to warn you.”
Kaden crossed the room in two strides and pulled him close. The relief hit Joe so hard that his knees weakened. He dropped the bags and clung to him, breathing Kaden in like air he desperately needed.
“What’s going on?” Alistair asked.
“Alistair, meet Jalis,” Kaden said. “He prefers to be known as Joe.”
“Ah.” Alistair shook Joe’s hand. “The Afghan asylum seeker.”
“Yes.”
“Taso paa bashpar dol englesi khbri koe,” Alistair said.
“Laa taso manana,” Joe replied. “It’s very kind of you to say I speak English perfectly. I am trying to.”
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Alistair asked.
“He prefers coffee,” Kaden said.
“Not very Afghan in that respect,” Joe said. “Just black coffee please.”
“And a sweetener,” Kaden added.
Joe shot him a little smile.
“I’m allowed guests,” Kaden said, anger breaking through. “Larkin had no right to make you leave. What exactly did he say?”
Joe repeated the words faithfully. “But what did he mean that a little bird had told him? How? What bird? A parrot? What other birds speak?”
“An expression you don’t know,” Kaden said. “It’ll be Harris. It has to be. The absolute dickhead.”
