Page 126 of Playing By Ear

“So.” Perry shifted his feet on the floor. “The new Beyoncé is brilliant.”

“Oh, aye.” He’d only listened to Lemonade the once, over breakfast with Perry. “Shows her versatility.”

“And the story of betrayal it tells…ooft. I wouldn’t like to be Jay-Z just now.”

Jamie’s stomach roiled. Hiding his real name and family from Perry might be a worse betrayal than infidelity.

“Listen,” he said, his mouth parched with fear, “you already know I wasn’t born with the surname Guthrie.”

Perry’s brows popped up. “So this is the thing you wanted to tell me.” He stood and moved close, no doubt to see Jamie’s face clearly. “What was your original surname?”

Jamie took a deep breath and fought hard to hold Perry’s intense gaze. “MacKray.”

Perry’s face went slack, his eyes widening and his lower jaw tucking under. “So…”

“Aye. My dad. The one who’s dying.”

The door opened. Jamie’s nurse swept into the exam room carrying what looked like a black foot cast wrapped in plastic. “Good news, Mr. Guthrie. The consultant had a look at your X-rays. Nothing broken, likely a sprain.” She peeled away the plastic. “So we’re putting you in one of these pure glamorous walking boots, which will let you move about without crutches while immobilizing the ankle so it can heal.”

Jamie inserted his foot into the contraption and tried to focus on her instructions—use the RICE formula for treating sprains, wear the boot for two weeks then follow up with GP if no improvement—plus memorize which Velcro strap went where and in which order. But he couldn’t stop glancing at his boyfriend. Perry had sunk back into the chair and was staring hard at the floor, no doubt replaying every sentence Jamie had ever said about his family.

Searching for the lies.

“Wee bit of advice?” the nurse said. “You’ll be wanting to order a lift for your other shoe so your legs are the same length. Otherwise you’ll soon have pain in your back and hips, too.”

Jamie signed the discharge forms, paying little attention to what he was putting his name to. For all he knew, he was agreeing to donate his ankle to medical science.

Then he led Perry out to the MIU’s vestibule to wait for a taxi. The giant boot made him feel like a clown, but the foot no longer hurt to put weight on.

At last they were alone, and Perry slipped his hand out from the crook of Jamie’s arm.

“Do you never want to see me again?” Jamie asked him.

For several moments, Perry only stared at the vestibule’s glass doors. In the car park outside, a pair of gulls bickered over the remains of a morning roll.

Then he turned to Jamie. “The missing MacKray.”

“Sorry?”

“I looked into the family—into your family—years ago when I thought I might write an article about them. After they scared me out of my career as a referee.”

Jamie tamped down the rising shame. “The article your editor warned you not to write?”

“Yes. There was a son who’d left the family. Disappeared. Some said he went abroad, but there were questions.”

Jamie realized what he was implying. “That’s not me. The missing MacKray was my cousin, the one my dad took in when my uncle died.”

“Oh. The one you said was like a brother to you.”

“Ritchie.” The name came out in a shaky whisper, as Jamie’s breath threatened to leave him. “When you say there were questions…”

“Jamie, are you all right?” Perry touched his shoulder. “Christ, you’re trembling.”

“I’m just…” He pulled his jacket tighter around his chest. “It’s a bit chillier now.”

“What is it you’re not telling me?”

Jamie closed his eyes. “I cannae say it here. I might utterly lose my head. I promise when we get back to yours, I’ll tell you everything.”