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He jerked upright, and Ben slid sideward into the seat next to him, his knees almost touching Aleksey’s thighs.
“Are you okay?”
“You apparently are.”
Ben flashed a happy grin, and Aleksey could not help a genuine quirk of a smile in response.
“All my mates say I’ve got hollow legs. And…it kinda…well…Ieat, sir. It helps if you eat. Look, I need to leave early tomorrow, before five probably to get back for duty. Can we actually talk this afternoon?—about the job. For real, I mean.” He smirked. “Don’t nod. I’ll take that green flush and deep swallow as a yes. Better go. Can’t keep God or Lady Philipa waiting.”
He bounced out.
The head returned to the table.
Then he had a better idea.
He went down to the cellar, chose a nice bottle of his favourite vintage and proceeded to mix it with things that were definitely not meant to be taken with alcohol.
It was still raining when they returned. Philipa said she was going out. Aleksey suspected she’d be topping up her shortbread.
He was feeling considerably better, almost chipper, and if it hadn’t been for the weather would have invited Ben for another walk.
They were left together in the kitchen. Some sandwiches had been plated for lunch, and Ben seemed content enough polishing them off and reading the cartoons in the paper. Aleksey thought, fuck it, and produced another bottle of wine.
Ben seemed surprised, even glanced at his watch, but happy enough to take a glass.
It was the perfect opportunity for him to ask again about the job, but he appeared to have forgotten this is what he wanted to talk about.
Every time Aleksey looked up from his more erudite section of the paper, Ben was watching him. As soon as he was caught in this study, however, he returned his focus to the sandwiches.
The wine disappeared very quickly. Aleksey produced some whisky, and they began on that instead.
The rain was very loud on the window, drumming and seductive.
Aleksey flicked his eyes up once more and found the unnerving green stare as fixed as ever. He held the look for a moment this time, and when Ben did not look away, he leant slowly back in his chair, all pretence of reading forgotten.
Ben topped up their tumblers again, not with an inch at the bottom, but as if he were pouring water.
He leant on the table, cupping one elbow in his hand and drinking. Aleksey picked up his glass and matched Ben’s pace.
“Interesting weekend then.”
Aleksey acknowledged this with a nod.
“Kinda odd though.”
This time Aleksey topped them up. But said nothing.
The silence was loud, and for the first time Aleksey realised they had a kitchen clock. He could hear its soothing, regular tick. Although it might have been his heart.
“I guess if there’s nothing else, I should think about going early. Given the weather and all. Only if there’s nothing else you need from me.”
Aleksey listened to the rain for a moment. It gave him peace from his inner voices:can I, will he, can I, will he.
Then he realised he really did have nothing to lose. And that, when you thought about it, was pretty damn sad.
“I was going to suggest a game of billiards.” He let his eyes fix on Ben’s without their usual veiling of his thoughts.
Ben swallowed visibly, took some more alcohol, and asked very softly, “Stakes?”
