AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘More like fuckingHoward’s End,’ Squeezy murmured artfully, squirting cheese paste into his mouth. ‘A little too Bloomsbury, this house, for my taste.’
Aleksey narrowed his eyes at this, and Squeezy gave him a cheeky look back. Aleksey hadn’t heard of this book. He didn’t read gay porn much, but he did know the termBloomsbury. The word always made him shudder slightly, as along withThe Gulag Archipelago, which was his least favourite book because he’d had to live the fucking thing, and hence the banning of the word in his presence, he recalled being tricked by Nikolas while they were at their academy in Russia into reading some book about a lighthouse by an author calledWolfe. Nika had told him that the lighthouse keepers were just discovered gone one day, and that he wouldnever guesswhat had happened to them, but that it was really disgusting and brilliant.
Knowing therefore that this was his kind of book,andthat it nicely fulfilled the requirement for the mandated Bloomsbury module in their English Literature class, he’d read it, albeit in Danish, because neither his Russian nor his English had been good enough. He still recalled, all these years later, how he had ploughed on, waiting for the horror to begin.
So, anything connected to Bloomsbury was, in this place and uttered by that moron, greatly irritating.
Ben had assembled a large stack of sandwiches with a couple of loaves of bread and some cheese and pickle. The kettle started to boil and tea was made.
Apropos of nothing, Ben mumbled wistfully around a mouthful, ‘I love this place. I can’t wait to bring Mol Mol. She could have a little boat and learn to sail.’
Aleksey stared at him, picturing this, picturing himself at her age, how much he and his twin would have loved this island and the freedom it would have represented for them. He thought suddenly that were Molly to come here, she would be lonely. He thought again about her ardent desire to attend the sleepover with the other little girls, which he had forbidden, and Ben’s compromise that she be allowed to come up with them one night a week. It wasn’t the same. He rolled onto his back, uneasy with something that he realised in this. Ben offered his crossed legs as a pillow, and he accepted gratefully. Inevitably, fingers began to play with his hair.
He had a lot to think about.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Four
The weather didn’t improve. It rained and blew a gale all afternoon and evening. He and Tim read, and Ben and Squeezy annoyed the dogs, each other, or played cards. Squeezy wanted them all to have a round of strip poker, which Aleksey might have agreed to if Ben hadn’t been there. They’d all been drinking. Even he’d been allowed a bottle of red to himself, so he was in the mood for something more than books. But Ben was jealous enough of him and Squeezy already, and he could push it only so far before it stopped being funny. But the day Ben wasn’t jealous of what he was doing with another man would be a very sad day indeed.
When it looked as if a fight was about to break out due to one or other of the gamblers cheating, he had a brainwave and suggested, ‘Shall we explore the attic?’
This suggestion was immediately acceded to, and Ben scrambled to his feet, once more putting a hand out to help him up. He grimaced, but accepted it. ‘Chairs are now high on my list to buy.’
They’d discovered the attic earlier, but had only poked heads in through the door, seen it was there and left. It had once housed more staff, Aleksey reckoned, because it had a proper staircase leading to it and consisted of two rooms with many small garret windows letting in some very desultory light. Even so, given the gloom of the rain, they had to use their phones once more to navigate.
Aleksey assumed there was a generator somewhere powering the lights the house had been retrofitted with, and the water pump he’d mentioned at the spring, but they had not yet discovered this. As it probably ran on diesel, and they had none, he wasn’t too bothered on this first trip. As long as no one lit a candle, he reckoned they’d all avoid any of the obvious pitfalls such a situation might create.
Radulf didn’t like this dark room, and voiced his concern that this was not an activity an elderly blind dog should have been dragged from a warm fire and leftover sandwiches to partake in. He growled at boxes, sneezed when coverings were removed, and generally got in the way and annoyed everyone. PB sat in the entranceway, his wary stance returned, his blue eyes watching everything but not commenting one way or the other.
‘A rocking horse. Look, Nik, a rocking horse for Molly.’
Aleksey came over, ignoring, as usual, Ben’s use of his former name. He wouldn’t pick him up in front of his friends. In fact, he almost never commented on it for some reason. He wondered if it reassured him as much as it seemed to do Ben. It was a strange thought for a dark afternoon in the rain, and he tucked his hand into the back of Ben’s waistband as he considered the huge toy. It was lovely. It was clearly old, as it worked on original huge wooden bow rockers rather than rails which newer ones he’d seen in toyshops did. It was complete with a saddle and stirrups and appeared to have real horse hair in its mane and tail. He gave it a little push with his other hand, and it began to tip back and forth. He didn’t like that much, so stilled it. It needed a child on it. Empty, it seemed unutterably sad.
‘Did you have one?’
Aleksey shook his head. ‘No, we had real ones almost as soon as we could walk. Our grandfather bred horses, and he brought our mother up on them, and she then did so for us.’
Stacked next to the rocking horse were some boxes of old board games, a table tennis net and bats, and a shuttlecock and racquets. Aleksey toed another box and saw a child’s drum and a couple of recorders and an old music book.
‘Hey, look at this.’ They turned at Squeezy’s voice and saw him holding up an old trench coat. He put it on. It was far too short for his six foot plus frame so he shrugged it off and made Tim try it. It was just right. There were some old jerseys in the same trunk, some odd hats and even what appeared to be an old-fashioned pair of men’s undergarments, but uninterested now, Squeezy moved on to explore the second room.
Tim took off the coat and shuddered. ‘It could have lice or something. He is such an idiot. Ugh, I can feel it crawling on my skin.’
Aleksey chose that precise moment to slide his fingers up the back of Ben’s shirt and murmur, ‘Lepers…’
Ben jumped and laughed, attempting to still his roving hand.
Aleksey whispered against his ear, ‘I think this activity is not stimulating enough for you, Benjamin Rider-Mikkelsen. I think you need a little more…exercise...’
Ben nodded, pressing back against him, his agreement evident in the taut physicality and need thrumming through his body.
Aleksey smirked, pleased, and slapped his backside. ‘Good. Go fetch the mattresses then. I need a little snooze.’
* * *
Given the rain, Ben and Squeezy had to first go and fetch some of the tarps they’d spotted in the boathouse and then go to the cottage andthenwrap each mattress and haul it back to the house and repeat this operation five times more. On the fourth trip, Aleksey took pity on the drowned rats and told them the dogs could share one between them. He’d built up the fire while they’d been working and made a space in front of it clear of their other detritus. When they were finally done, he told Ben to bring their two mattresses back down from the bedroom and that they would sleep in front of the fire that night.
