The sheltering tree, p.25
The Sheltering Tree, page 25
The name on the screen stopped the world spinning.
Jay opened up the message at once, barely breathing.
[AH - 12:59] I think you promised me something this morning.
[AH - 12:59] Slipped your mind? xx
"Jesus," Jay whispered. Checking on me. Friendly with me.
He glanced at the remnants of his lunch, now crowded by paperwork beneath his monitor: crumpled cling film, the crust from a ham sandwich, an empty crisp packet and a yoghurt pot with an apple core tucked inside it.
Nervously, Jay pulled them forwards and arranged them into a suitable picture. As an embellishing touch, he retrieved the empty blister pack of painkillers from his waste paper bin, placed it in shot and took a photo.
He attached the picture to a message, praying as he typed.
As the typing bubble appeared, Alastair resisted the urge to dig his fingers into his desk. He breathed in and out with purpose, waiting as calmly as he was able.
The photograph appeared with a soft chime: the debris of lunch, a finished painkiller packet, heavy stacks of paperwork in shot. Alastair's heart heaved against his ribs. Your desk, he thought. Your working day. Jay had a chipped mug featuring his charity's logo, a pot full of highlighters with the caps mismatched, and photographs of innumerable grinning teenagers, all framed as if they were family. He used blue ink to write, and he ate salt and vinegar flavour crisps.
The messages which unfolded beneath the photo tightened Alastair's grip on his phone.
[JF - 13:01] 100% responsible adult
[JF - 13:01] dont judge my milky bar yogurt
[JF - 13:01] hows your day? xx
"You owe me two years' worth of additional annual leave," said the voice at his shoulder.
I owe you a good deal more than that.
"Bring me the form," Alastair said, "and I'll sign it."
Juliet hummed. "I'll trade it for you to reply to him with a question."
"Now?"
She nodded. "Yes, now. Trust me."
Obediently, Alastair typed.
[AH - 13:02] Fairly well. Midway through my usual green salad. Now sadly disappointing compared to Milkybar yoghurt.
[AH - 13:02] How are you? xx
"Jesus," Jay whispered again.
[JF - 13:03] bit sore but in one piece
[JF - 13:03] nearly got my unread emails under 100
[JF - 13:03] and dont take the piss, they were on offer at the supermarket xx
[AH - 13:04] You've confused envy for piss-taking. Distraught I wasn't offered one last night. xx
[JF - 13:04] save you one for next time
[JF - 13:04] busy day? xx
[AH - 13:04] I've been in meetings all morning. Only just escaped. xx
[JF - 13:05] good meetings? xx
[AH - 13:05] I would love to tell you Jay.
[AH - 13:05] But then of course I'd have to kill you. xx
[JF - 13:05] sounds good to me... no more emails...
[JF - 13:05] hows your salad? you allowed to talk about that? xx
[AH - 13:06] I can. It is uninspiring. xx
[JF - 13:07] dont remember ever having an inspiring salad xx
[AH - 13:07] Now I think about it, no. Nor can I. xx
[JF - 13:08] need to get yourself some milkybar yogurts, mate
[JF - 13:08] theyre magic xx
[AH - 13:09] 'Mate'!
[AH - 13:09] I see they go very nicely with painkillers. xx
[JF - 13:10] classic foodie combo
[JF - 13:10] like cheese and tomato
[JF - 13:10] coffee brb xxx
Alastair squinted at the message. He got up from his desk, crossed to his office door and opened it. "Juliet?"
Juliet looked around from her laptop, swiftly closing the Manolo Blahnik website. "Yes, sir?"
"What does coffee burb mean?"
Her cheek twitched with humour. "Is it the letters b-r-b, by any chance?"
"Yes, it is."
"It means be right back. It's contemporary digital parlance." Juliet leant back in her chair, turning a rose gold fountain pen between her fingers. It matched her nails and the accents on her heels. "He's indicating that he'll be occupied for all of the three minutes it takes to boil a kettle, for fear that you'll think he's abandoned your conversation and stop replying. Clearly a distressing thought to him." She raised an eyebrow, smiling. "In other words, coffee burb means he's in love with you."
Alastair's expression shuttered. "He is not in love with me."
"Is he not?"
"No. No, of course he isn't."
Juliet's smile widened. "Ask him to dinner," she said.
The thought took the breath from Alastair's lungs. "God almighty."
"Ask him. And with his next reply, the two of you will officially be dating. Take him somewhere romantic. Tell him through the candlelight that he's the most enchanting man you've ever met, that he occupies your thoughts day and night, and that Cliveden offers a comprehensive range of wedding packages to suit all couples."
Alastair felt himself flush to his hairline. "I approached you for sensible advice."
"This is my sensible advice," Juliet said, smiling still, and tossed one stockinged leg over the other. "Ask the idiot to dinner."
"He... he could well say no. I couldn't bear it."
"He shan't. He'll say yes, probably very loudly."
"If he was willing to go to dinner with me, why on earth would he have suggested an arrangement between us and not dinner in the first place?"
"Probably because he thought you'd agree to one but not the other. Now tell the poor man you want him to be yours, and prove him wrong."
Alastair's message alert sounded from his office. He flushed ever darker, his heart racing.
"Excuse me," he muttered.
"Ask him," Juliet called as the door began to close, "or I'll ask him on your behalf."
Alastair opened it again. "You'll do no such thing!"
[JF - 13:14] hey listen
[JF - 13:14] you were amazing yesterday
[JF - 13:14] got me back on my feet
[JF - 13:14] can I do something to thank you? xx
[AH - 13:15] Sincerely, Jay. Thanks aren't needed. xx
[JF - 13:16] I want to
[JF - 13:16] you didnt need to look after me xx
[AH - 13:16] What sort of thanks are you proposing? xx
Alastair attempted to eat a little of his salad as he watched Jay reply. The typing bubble appeared for a while, then vanished entirely—reappeared, quickly vanished—and on its third attempt remained for some time.
The eventual ladder of messages made his heart buck like a hare.
[JF - 13:20] come round this weekend
[JF - 13:20] let me cook for you
[JF - 13:20] watch a film maybe
[JF - 13:20] you can have your milkybar yogurt xxx
Across London, Jay attempted not to stare at his phone screen. Now he'd sent it, he knew for sure it was too much.
Or is it? That could still be casual, couldn't it?
It was just food and a film. Friends did that with each other. He hadn't necessarily shown his hand here. His text didn't necessarily read like his internal organs were all trying to squeeze their way out of his throat, which they very much were.
Alastair began to type.
Oh, Jesus. Here it comes.
He could almost hear Alastair's voice. "Jay, I fear you've misjudged the nature of our arrangement." Closing his eyes, Jay told himself this would either be a success or a lesson.
As his phone vibrated gently, he forced open one eye.
[AH - 13:21] That's very kind of you.
[AH - 13:21] I'd love to. xx
"Oh—oh, thank fuck..."
[JF - 13:21] saturday evening?
[JF - 13:21] give me time to clean :P xxx
[AH - 13:22] Saturday. I'll bring wine. xx
"Oh, shit. Oh, Jesus. What do I cook?"
As Jay googled the phrase recipes to impress someone out of my league, his phone gave another sly buzz.
[AH - 13:23] And there's no need for you to clean. Your flat is perfectly acceptable as it is. xx
The typing bubble appeared. Alastair watched it, oblivious to his own growing grin. He fanned his fingers as he waited, rolling them with happy anticipation against the edge of his desk.
[JF - 13:23] we talking about the same flat? xxx
[AH - 13:24] The perfectly acceptable one in which I woke up this morning? xx
[JF - 13:24] wow
[JF - 13:24] thought youd have higher standards than that :P xxx
[AH - 13:25] It seems that you've misjudged me, 'mate'. xx
[JF - 13:26] :P
[JF - 13:26] am I distracting you from work? xxx
[AH - 13:27] Only from my uninspiring salad.
[AH - 13:27] Should I let you return to Mount Email? xx
[JF - 13:27] doing them in between texts
[JF - 13:27] don't go if you don't have to
[JF - 13:27] nice to chat :) xxx
[AH - 13:28] Very well. Coffee brb. xxx
Chapter 15
The knock came five minutes ahead of the time they'd agreed. Jay tossed his tea towel over one shoulder and hurried for the door, taking a second to fix his hair in the mirror as he passed. He'd bought a brand new shirt, olive green with subtle stripes, and unbuttoned it just low enough to offer the edges of his ink. The place was spotless, the candles were lit, and he'd spent nearly two hours creating the playlist. For this critical moment, the fates had picked Adele's One and Only, and Jay wasn't going to argue with their choice. He'd done everything he could to make tonight perfect. From now on, he simply had to see.
Pulling open the door, he found Alastair waiting in the hallway in his long black coat and leather gloves, holding out a bottle of red wine. His grey eyes glittered at the sight of Jay, the hint of a smile playing at corners of his mouth.
Jay squeezed the edge of the door, grinning. "Hi," he said.
Alastair's smile grew. He stepped over the threshold, put the bottle on a nearby surface without a glance, and took Jay's face in both his hands.
"Hello," he murmured, gathering Jay close.
As their lips came together, Jay's soul seemed to exit his body. It rocketed immediately into the stratosphere, there to stay for good, floating somewhere thirty thousand feet above the earth. Oh, God, he thought, and leaned in closer, sliding his arms around Alastair's waist. Fuck, you're really here. This is happening.
They kissed slowly beside the open door, warm fingers wrapped in leather supporting Jay's face. Already this was everything he'd dreamed. When the kiss finally ended, their foreheads stayed together and the floor beneath Jay's feet seemed to sway.
Alastair stroked his thumb over the cut on Jay's lip.
"This is healing well," he said. "And this..." He kissed just beneath Jay's black eye, as carefully as if it were fresh. "I'm glad you're alright."
The gentleness of his voice would never fail to ruin Jay. He shivered a little, unable to help it.
"Scrappy, me," he whispered. "I bounce back fast."
Alastair hummed, pleased, and softly recaptured Jay's lips. Settled back into kissing, it took Jay several seconds to pick up on the bleeping from the kitchen.
"Sorry," he mumbled into the kiss, stroking his hands up Alastair's sides. "I think that's our garlic bread."
Alastair smiled against his mouth. "I hope you haven't gone to trouble."
"Not too much," Jay lied, wishing he could sound just a little less breathy. Alastair's pupils seemed huge at this close distance, deep and soft and warm. "Nice to spend time with you, that's all. I wanted to make it special."
"You're too kind," Alastair said, nuzzling the side of Jay's nose. The oven timer continued to beep. "Shall I let you tend to that garlic bread?"
"Y-yeah," Jay admitted. "Probably best. Don't want it to burn."
Alastair released him, fingertips brushing along his jaw. "I'd hate to waste your efforts," he said, stepping back. "Don't let me get in the way."
Lightheaded, Jay attended to the oven timer. His lips tingled from Alastair's kisses, his hopes for this evening even higher than they were before. He couldn't help but steal glances across the room, watching as Alastair closed the front door and removed his coat. Beneath it, he was wearing a silver-grey jumper over a simple white shirt, the fine-knit wool almost silky in texture. It was a far softer look than anything Jay had seen him in before. He'd dressed comfortably, not formally, and it did things to Jay that he couldn't quite explain. Alastair looked as if he'd feel magnificent to hug—not just for a quick squeeze, but a cuddle that went on for hours, arms wrapped around each other on the couch.
Pulling off his leather gloves, Alastair looked around.
"Dear Lord, Jay," he remarked, teasing. "Is this the same flat?"
Jay grinned, scraping his tray of garlic bread from the oven. "Looks bigger tidy, doesn't it? I was overdue for a proper clear out."
Alastair brought his bottle of wine over to the kitchen. "Can I help you with anything?" he asked, setting it down on the counter top.
"There's a corkscrew in the drawer to your right," Jay said, turning the garlic bread slices carefully with his fingers. They only needed another few minutes. "You could open the wine, if you want. Get us started."
"This drawer?"
"Yep. That's the one. How's your weekend been so far? Have you done much?"
"A few work tasks," Alastair said absently, retrieving the corkscrew. "I ended up on the couch with a book. Nothing too exciting."
"Good to rest at the weekend, though. Have a bit of down time. It sets you up for the week."
"Mm, very true. How was your day?"
In truth, Jay had spent every moment of it in anticipation of this one. Knowing that Alastair would be here all evening made him so happy it was hard to keep his head fixed on anything else.
"Pretty good," he replied, smiling, and returned the garlic bread to the oven. "Did some laundry at last. Went for a run. Tidied up."
He set the timer with a few quick presses of the button.
"There," he said. "Couple more minutes, just to crisp up the cheese."
"Excellent. And in honour of the occasion..." Alastair handed Jay a glass of very dark red wine, the liquid gleaming in the candlelight. "Roagna La Pira, 2010."
Jay took a gentle sniff, catching notes of berries and roses. He didn't know all that much about wine, but he had a feeling this might be romantic wine. He certainly hoped it was.
"Before I drink this," he said, relaxing back against the counter edge, "how long was the number printed on the price tag?"
Alastair chuckled, pouring himself a glass. "A number of sensible length," he promised. "Indulgent but not obnoxious."
"Two digits?"
"Two digits. Jay. I'm not a maniac."
Reassured, Jay took a sip. The flavour flooded through his mouth, warm and rich and full of fruit. This was definitely romantic wine.
"Damn, Al," he murmured, helpless. "You've got amazing taste in booze."
Alastair tested it for himself; the verdict was a small hum. "I've been saving it," he said, as he licked his lower lip. "It's nice to have an excuse to finally open the bottle."
I'm worth saved wine. Jay's heart resumed its eager skipping. "I don't know if my dinner will live up to this, you know," he said. "Glad I made dessert as well."
"Mm? What is it we're having?"
Jay checked the over timer. "Chicken," he said, "baked with roasted sweet balsamic tomatoes, garlic butter and provolone. Rice and side salad to accompany."
Alastair's eyebrows lifted, apparently impressed.
"You've got rather a knack for cooking, haven't you?" he said. Jay attempted to hide his flush of pleasure in his wine glass, drinking. "Is this a hidden passion of yours?"
"I don't know if I'd go that far," Jay said. He didn't want to admit he'd been happily preparing things all day. That was a lot of pressure to put upon Alastair. In truth, Jay had been waiting a decade for an excuse to cook like this, and he'd enjoyed every minute of it. "I like throwing ingredients together, that's all. You don't mind that we're eating on the couch?"
"Not at all."
"I swear this place looked bigger when I viewed it."
"It's delightfully compact. And I'll be very happy eating on the couch with you." Alastair moved closer, put his arm around Jay's waist and placed a small kiss upon his forehead. "For what it's worth," he added, "we could have dinner together in a cardboard box and I'd still be happy."
Jay attempted not to glow.
"You're sweet," he said, leaning into Alastair's body. He let his cheek get comfortable on Alastair's shoulder. "I know you're used to finer surroundings."
Alastair huffed. "Dull company makes even the finest surroundings seem dull," he said. "I'd much rather be here with you. Are you wearing a new fragrance?"
Argh. Jay had hoped he would notice.
"Not really new," he said. "Team got me it last Christmas. Do you like it?"
"I do," Alastair said. He followed Jay's cologne to its source at his throat, nuzzling beneath the curve of his jaw. "Mmhm. Very much."
As Alastair's mouth stroked his neck, Jay's eyes fluttered shut. He'd missed being like this, close and happy; it felt like Cliveden all over again. Everything was right where they'd left it, just waiting to be picked up and continued. He bit down into his lip, lifting his chin in hope of more, then realised he was still holding his wine glass. He moved it to safety on the counter, not wanting to spill it down Alastair's back.
