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I didn’t want to say it out loud. I couldn’t. Because that would mean admitting it to myself.
“It’s not like I wanted to kiss him,” I protested weakly.
“That’s okay.”
“I’m not like you,” I whispered. I was starting to sound like a very spoilt child.
“You’re not, and thank God for that!” Mark let go of my hands. “When did you last have a fling? Like…never. You don’t shag around, you don’t have crushes, and you get all the human contact you need from me. I’m not saying this to be mean, but babe, Seriously. Darling, gorgeous, wonderful Ben…”
He was doing that thing again where he was touching my hair and my face and my shoulders and all of me, which is why I bloody adored him, while all I had to offer in return was a cack-handed finger cuddle.
“You did so well, organising all of us to sit with him at hospital when you couldn’t. You looked after him. I was actually getting jealous, you were so besotted with him. But I loved watching it happen, because you were almost happy there for a while.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologise for who you are. You’re brilliant. Abso-fucking-lutely brilliant. And you have to go with what ticks your boxes. Hugo ticked every one of your boxes, and that’s wonderful, but you can’t let your life fall apart just because he’s not here anymore.”
“See, he’s probably dead, and you’re all acting like that’s okay. Why the hell has nobody gone and found him and dragged him back. I mean, he’s a human being and everyone just let him disappear! I had a right go at Finn the other day, and all his details in the system have gone. There’s not even a phone number for him.”
“Didn’t you get his phone number?” he asked calmly.
“No.” Truth. I hadn’t. “But God knows I want it, so I can ring him and make him tell me where he is so I can check he’s okay. Why is nobody checking he’s okay? Why has everyonegone mad?”
“Babe,” he said again. He smiled, picked up my hand and kissed it.
“I hate you,” I muttered.
“Yeah. I would hate me too. But you know I can’t tell you everything. There’s stuff Finn knows that he can’t tell me. We have agreements for all this. Data protection. Personal details. Bloody GDPR.”
“I know.”
“But I can tell you that Finn has spoken to Hugo. Twice. He’s not in a good place in his head, but he’s healing. Slowly.”
“And what is the dick boyfriend doing about that? Eh?” I spat, half in relief, half in rage.
“I can’t tell you where he is or how Finn knows or whatever because I honestly don’t know myself. But do you want to hear something that’ll put a smile on your face?” He giggled.
“What?” I wasn’t smiling.
“Mr Klutz.”
“What about him?” Mr Klutz was our esteemed CEO. In his late seventies, he was as sharp as anything, with a tongue that could end your career in an instant. He was also very well dressed and terrifying to be in a room with on your own, but he did chair our Friday management meetings, and as long as you stayed in his good books, you were fine. I’d managed to mostly stay out of his firing line.
“Friday meeting, he pulled Finn to one side. I overheard him asking about Hugo, and Finn being Finn, he was all vague and jabbered on about following guidelines, being supportive and allthat—”
“What’s your point?” I snapped. Nothing to smile about so far.
“Turns out Mr Klutz plays golf with the owner of the Greenwood Hotel, Hugo’s former place of employment. Mr Klutz had pulled some strings and found out who Hugo’s boyfriend is.”
“His name is Lewis,” I filled in, suddenly sitting up straighter in my chair.
“Yeah,” Mark confirmed. “Lewis Hope the Third or something. Parents are some kind of banking royalty, and Mr Klutz has friends in high places.”
“Okay?”
“Well, you know how well-spoken Mr Klutz is. Talks like he’s acting out the lead role in some period drama.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet, watching Mark grin and waiting for the punchline.
