24

24

Ripley tried not to smile as Fen glared at him.

"I don't need a nap," Fen said through gritted teeth. "I'm not a little kid."

"You've worked non-stop since the arrival of that supermarket delivery. You told me all the food prep's been done and you're dead on your feet. Go and lie down."

Fen slid into his arms and wriggled against him. "Come with me?"

Ripley moaned. "Don't tempt me. If I come up with you, you won't rest. Anyway, I have to sort the alcohol. Please, go and lie down. I want you dancing on the table tonight and I don't want I'm tired as an excuse."

Fen rolled his eyes but went upstairs.

It didn't take Ripley long to put the champagne and white wine in the wine fridge. Beer was chilling in buckets of ice he'd put on the patio. Glasses were set out on the work surface along with plates, serviettes and cutlery. Ripley looked around. Everywhere was tidy, but it looked…wrong.

They were throwing a party. It was Christmas. And there was no tree. Not a decoration in sight. Christmas cards had been read, then dropped into the recycling bin. Fen had seen him do it and said nothing. But he'd be thinking plenty even though he knew why Ripley didn't do Christmas.

But Fen did celebrate Christmas. So did Ripley's friends.

Maybe he'd let this go on for long enough.

He went up to the second-floor storeroom where he kept his suitcases among other things. At the back, was a bag containing the Christmas tree Alejandro had insisted they buy. Next to it were a couple of boxes of decorations. Ripley made two trips to get everything downstairs.

First thing he did was plug the tree in because if the lights were no longer working, he'd give up on the whole idea. But the lights worked, pretty soon the tree was slotted together, standing at the side of the folding glass doors, and already the room looked better.

Decorating it proved more difficult because of the way memories flooded back. How Alejandro had kept moving the baubles Ripley had hung, how Ripley moved them back when he wasn't looking. They'd laughed and… Why hadn't I seen how unhappy he was?

But he hadn't and Alejandro was dead and he was alive.

Ripley knew Fen would enjoy doing this with him but somehow, he felt he needed to do it on his own, as if it was his battle to fight, his own personal demon to defeat, or whatever was putting that weight on his chest. Finally, the tree was done, the silver star shining at the top and he'd even hung strings of fairy lights around the garden and along the roofline of the summer house. Now all he needed to do was ask Fen to stay over Christmas. Except Fen was going to his mother's. But he'd be back on Boxing Day and…

Shit!I have no presents for him.

Thank you, Amazon Prime.

A few hours later, Ripley had done everything he needed to. He'd even walked to the high street and bought a wreath for the front door. While he was attaching it, he saw Sandra and her husband packing their people carrier with cases, black bags and a cool box. She came over to him.

"Merry Christmas," Ripley said, and—oh look! —the sky didn't fall.

"Merry Christmas."

"Is there enough room for the children?"

The three were being herded into the rear seats along with Annie.

"Barely. To be honest, I was tempted to say leave me behind. I could do with the rest. We're off to my brother's until the New Year. Would you keep an eye on the house, please?"

"Absolutely."

"Are the Baranovs back yet?"

"No." Two Russians lived on the other side of Ripley.

Sandra winced. "The street's half empty."

"Is your alarm linked to the police?"

"Yes."

"Mine too. We'll be fine. Go and have a great time."

"Thanks. Wish Fen a Merry Christmas too. He's been so good with my mother. Rescued her twice. Once from quite a way away. He's so kind and considerate."

"He is."

Ripley went back to the wreath with a lump in his throat. He hadn't missed the point of that comment. Alejandro never had time for Annie. He'd made jokes about her to Ripley. Not nasty ones, but…

At least there was no need to worry about the party disturbing his neighbours. There were plenty of trees to muffle the noise for the ones at the back.

Ripley spent fifteen minutes lying next to Fen watching him sleep. As he thought about how young Fen looked, he also started to worry about him not waking up. Totally irrational. Yet he couldn't help it. Knowing Fen had a disease that shortened his life filled him with a sort of numbing horror. How did Fen cope? Ripley had read article after article about Becker Muscular Dystrophy. No site showed the average life expectancy to be higher than forty to fifty. He knew that meant some might live longer, but then the reverse was also true.

A heart transplant was an option. Ripley had studied the stats. Maybe there'd be developments in treatment before Fen's heart began to fail. Maybe a transplant would let him live longer than Ripley.

Ripley closed his eyes. I want more than six months. I want Christmas. All I need to do is ask him to stay.

He jumped when he felt Fen's lips on his.

"My boyfriend's downstairs," Fen whispered in his ear. "He has horns on his head, his feet are prickly and his favourite food is roasted Ripley. So we'll have to be quick."

"No problem."

It wasn't. Ripley wondered if he'd ever feel in control around Fen. Not being in control was alien to him.

After they'd showered, they dressed for the party. Ripley wore his blue chinos and white linen shirt. Fen wore clothes he hadn't seen before. Dark denims and a tight T-shirt saying That's a horrible idea. What time? Ripley snorted.

"Is it okay?" Fen asked.

"Perfect."

When they reached the main room, Fen stumbled to a halt and gave a quiet gasp. "You moved the couch!"

Ripley stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around Fen's waist. "Notice anything else?"

"Er…"

Ripley turned Fen so he faced the tree.

"It looks almost amazing."

"Almost?"

Fen slipped free of Ripley's hold, walked over to it, moved one silver bauble an inch, then moved it back. "No. I was wrong. It's totally amazing. Oh, you put lights outside too! Mum and I always overdo the lights. All over the balcony and in every room. She makes the tree a different colour every year. She threatened pink this year but… Well, I'll soon see what she's done. She always makes Christmas special."

Ah shit. I could still ask him to stay. But…

Fen turned on the oven and started to take things out of the fridge. He popped something into his mouth and hmmed as he chewed "I don't like to blow my own trumpet but these are way better than my mother's. Have one."

It was some sort of cheese thing and it melted in Ripley's mouth.

"Maybe I'll volunteer to make them," Fen said. "And the bread sauce. She never gets that quite right."

I can't ask him.It was his own fault.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ripley asked.

"Cut some cubes of cheese, open the tin of pineapple chunks and put one of each on a cocktail stick. You can make a hedgehog with the melon. Use a black olive for its nose."

"Erm… Where's the pineapple?"

"I'm joking."

"I don't think I've ever eaten pineapple and cheese."

"It was my mum's birthday party staple."

Maybe Fen saw something on his face because he moved into Ripley's arms. "Didn't you have birthday parties?"

"Not with cheese and pineapple hedgehogs. And no parties after my father died."

"No pass the parcel, musical chairs, sleeping lions?"

"No."

"When's your birthday?"

"First of May." What about you?"

"September."

I don't want you to leave after six months. When we end, I don't want it to be because I set a fucking date. All he had to do was say that. Why couldn't he?

The food was all laid out and Ripley was in awe of what Fen had achieved. It might not be sophisticated catering, but Ripley didn't care. Fen had decided to manage without his crutch for the party and Ripley felt guilty to be relieved. He didn't want Fen beset by questions, well-meaning or not. Music was playing, though not Christmas songs. Not yet. But he'd even given way on that and said Fen could change the playlist later. The room had been transformed. So had he.

Most of those coming tonight were friends from university or people he'd met while doing his Bar course: male and female, gay and straight. He knew many of their partners but not all. Josef had been invited too. At least Fen had met him at the art gallery and would manage a conversation without feeling out of his depth.

Christian, who'd shared Ripley's room in the first year at uni and was with someone new every time Ripley met up with him, arrived with a good-looking guy called Toby. There was something about Toby that reminded Ripley a little of Fen.

Christian wrapped his arms around Ripley and hugged him. "This one is special," he whispered. "I've turned over a new leaf."

"Seriously?"

He pressed his mouth to Ripley's ear. "Keep 15th June free, Best Man! Weekend of. And keep quiet. I haven't asked him yet."

Ripley was shocked into silence. He'd not seen that coming. Ever.

"Best man?" Fen whispered after the pair had moved off.

Ripley put his finger to his lips. "Secret."

Fen nodded.

After Fen's friends arrived, Ripley felt a little easier. He shook their hands, gave them drinks and went, yet again, to answer the doorbell.

Fen couldn't believe the difference in Ripley. He was smiling, being sociable and joking with people. What had happened? Why had he changed his mind about Christmas?

"Oh my God." Seth nudged him. "What planet am I on? Fantastic food. Every drink under the sun and Ripley is gorgeous! But not as gorgeous as you, my love." He kissed Morgan.

"He's rich and I'm not," Morgan said. "I'm tired and he's not."

Seth shrugged. "That's true. Bye."

As Seth stepped away, Morgan yanked him back and Fen laughed.

"Tired isn't the word," Morgan said. "I might fall asleep standing up. Don't let me lean against a wall. I've just worked a really long shift and I'm back on again tomorrow before we head south."

"Let's get something to eat," Seth said. "Come and tell us what everything is."

Seth headed over and Fen and Morgan followed.

A man in a checked jacket who Fen hadn't been introduced to was looking at the food.

"What the hell are these?" The man pointed.

"Honey-mustard sausage rolls," Fen said.

"Organic?"

Fen bit back his sigh. "The pastry isn't. The honey, mustard and sausage meat are."

Seth popped one in his mouth. "Wow, Fen. These are divine. You're so clever."

"You made them?" Checked-jacket man sounded incredulous.

"I made almost everything."

"You're the caterer? Presumably you're just starting out?"

Fuck you. Fen could feel Seth readying to say something and he kicked him gently.

"I'm Ripley's boyfriend. I made the food because it was a fun thing to do. Not everything is the same size but it all tastes good. You don't have to eat it. Drink his alcohol instead."

"Please don't eat the food," Morgan said. "All the more for us."

"At least the champagne is quality," the man said and wandered off.

Fen sagged.

"What an arsehole." Seth glared after him.

"Ignore him." Morgan gave Fen a hug. "Everyone else is eating. Look. Full plates."

Morgan was right and Fen managed a smile.

"Hi, Fen."

Fen turned to see Josef, Ripley's artist friend.

"Hi."

"Did you work some sort of miracle on Ripley? Christmas? I worried he was going to do what he did last year, hole up and get drunk."

Fuck. "Isn't that what we all do?"

Josef nodded. "Yeah, that's true. I'm glad he has you to be with. Excuse me, I need to fill my plate. This all looks delicious."

"Oh Christ," Seth whispered. "Oh Christ, oh Christ, oh Christ. I'm going to hyperventilate. Dominic Servos is here! In this room. Within feet of me! Don't let me faint."

Fen and Morgan shot each other puzzled glances.

"Who's that?" Morgan asked.

"He's the name in fashion at the moment."

"Which is why we haven't heard of him." Morgan smiled at Fen.

"Look at his shirt! I'm going to die. I am seriously going to die. Introduce me. Please, Fen. Before I die. Then I can fade away happy."

Fen glanced around, couldn't see Ripley so called him.

"You could have reached out and touched me," Ripley said.

"Where are you?"

"Looking at you."

Fen turned again, saw him by the kitchen door and beckoned. Then he turned to Morgan, and held out his phone. "Take a few pictures of me and Ripley?"

"Hand it over."

Ripley walked up, pulled Fen into his arms and kissed him.

"Hurry up in case he disappears," Seth hissed.

"Seth!" Morgan glared at him.

"Seth would like to be introduced to Dominic Servos," Fen said.

"The guy who came with Rhodri? Okay. Come on."

"What? Now?" Seth almost shrieked.

"Yes, now."

The three of them followed Ripley across the room.

"Fantastic food, Ripley," said the one who wasn't wearing the bright orange and red patterned shirt.

Ripley put his arm over Fen's shoulder. "All Fen's work, Rhodri."

"Your house boy?" Rhodri said with a smile.

Fen felt Ripley tense and spoke quickly. "Master lets me out of the cellar to cook for him. Master is the best. He only puts the chains on at night if I've been naughty. Sometimes I like being naughty."

Morgan and Seth burst out laughing and Ripley rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," Rhodri muttered.

"I might try a gag next time, Fen," Ripley said.

"Oh please." Fen batted his eyelashes.

Ripley pulled Fen close, kissed his forehead, then turned back to Rhodri. "Fen's friend Seth would like to meet Dominic."

Seth was doing an excellent impression of a stone statue, and Morgan had to thump him to get him to move. Seth put his hand out and Dominic shook it.

"I love your work," Seth managed.

Morgan put a hand over Seth's mouth. "He should stop at that. He's going to gush and be embarrassing. Fashion is his life."

Morgan yelped when Seth bit him.

Fen backed off once they were talking and went to get a plate of food. The words house boy had hurt but he knew it was because he was much younger than Ripley. People thought it was just sex, but it wasn't. He helped himself to several items and looked for somewhere to sit down. A guy beat him to a gap on the biggest couch and Fen sighed.

"There's enough room." The man budged up and Fen sat beside him trying to recall his name. Toby! The one who was going to be proposed to at some point.

"Thanks," Fen said.

"I hear you made all the food."

"Almost all."

"It must have taken you ages. It's delicious. I love the sausage rolls. I'd ask for the recipe but I can't cook for shit. Are you a chef?"

"No, I repair and restore antiques."

"Interesting! My dad loves antiques, particularly anything Japanese."

"Actually, Japanese ceramics are my speciality."

"Oh, he'd love you."

Fen laughed.

"Do you speak Japanese?"

"A bit. I'm learning."

The woman sitting next to Toby got up and a man dropped into her place with a plate of food. Fen remembered his name too. Christian. The one who wanted Ripley to be his best man when he married Toby.

"The food is fantastic, babes," Toby said. "If Fen had been a caterer, I'd have asked him to do a party for us but he's an antiques expert."

"How do you know Ripley?" Fen asked.

"I was at university with him," Christian said. "We were both in the Goldie crew for a year."

"What's that?" Toby asked.

Fen didn't know either.

"Reserve rowing crew at Cambridge."

"Wow," Fen said. He'd once watched the race on the Thames with his mum.

"I stopped rowing because of a back injury. Ripley stopped when he realised how much time it was taking. He was more interested in getting a First."

"Did he?" Fen asked.

"He did, I didn't. I found other interests." He curled his fingers in Toby's hair.

"Did not getting a First hold you back?" Fen asked.

"I'm a successful hedge fund manager so I'd say not. Once you're a few years away from graduation, no one even asks what category of degree you got or what subject or even if you have a degree. Do you have a degree?"

"No."

"Do you wish you had?" Toby asked.

"If my life had been different, I might have liked to go to university."

"Having a degree can open doors," Christian said. "But having the right family can open even more. Excuse me." He pushed to his feet. "I need a word with Seb."

"That was a little dig at me," Toby said after Christian had gone.

Fen wasn't sure he understood.

"The family comment, I mean. My dad's an actor and I am too."

Fen's heart did a little jump. Japanese ceramics? Actor? It had to be a coincidence. Anyway, Fen's half-brother's name wasn't Toby. Stop panicking.

"Would I have had the opportunities I've had if my dad hadn't been famous? I like to think I'd have made it, but I'll never know. To be honest, I don't see anything wrong in getting a leg up in a profession hard to get into and even harder to make a mark in."

Fen didn't say anything.

"Would my sisters have been influencers without family connections?"

Fen felt as if he was sinking in freezing water. "How many sisters do you have?"

"Two."

Shit. Fen couldn't ask. But he had to. "Who's your father?"

"Jack Miller."

Shock came like a hard punch to the gut. So much like it Fen worried for a moment he might throw up. Oh fuck. I'm sitting next to my half-brother.

"You know who he is, right?" Toby sighed. "Everyone knows who he is."

Fen nodded.

"Imagine having the world's greatest fictional spy as your dad."

"I thought his son's name was Judd."

"That's my name but Christian called me Toby because he heard my dad call me that. It's a nickname from when I was a kid."

Toby jug-Judd. Right. "Do you mind?"

"A bit, but if I make an issue about it, Christian won't stop. My dad didn't."

"Don't you get on with him?" Fen wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be.

"He's great. Do anything for anyone sort of a guy."

Lucky you.

"Except call me Judd." He grinned.

I don't want to call you anything. But it wasn't Judd's fault his father was an arsehole. Nor his sisters. Fen couldn't sit there any longer but when he tried to get up, his legs refused to work.

"How long have you known Ripley?" Judd asked.

"Not long."

"How did you meet?"

"I bought something of his that had been accidentally sent to an auction house. He traced me to ask for it back."

"I met Christian in a club. In LA. I knew he was a player but he's so smart and kind. He tells me he's changed. I hope he has."

Oh God, please let me move. Please!

"Want to go and get more to eat?" Judd asked.

"There you are." Ripley reached for Fen's hand and pulled him to his feet.

Fen almost collapsed into Ripley's arms. Without Ripley's support, he'd have crashed to the floor.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ripley whispered.

"Yes."

"No, you're not."

"I am! Just a bit wobbly."

"Want to take the desserts out of the fridge?"

"Could you do it, please?"

Ripley looked into Fen's face. "You're very pale. And you're shaking."

"I'm all right."

Ripley sat him down on one of the swivel seats. "Stay there."

Fen watched as Ripley cleared the work surface and put out the desserts.

"Which would you like?"

"I don't—"

"Which one," Ripley repeated.

"The pavlova, please."

Ripley came back to his side with a portion of the meringue and held a spoon to Fen's lips. "Eat."

Fen ate.

After he'd eaten a little, he did feel better. When he refused more, Ripley ate it and moaned. "Oh no. Don't make this again."

"Why? What's wrong with it?" It tasted okay.

"I'd hide it and eat all of it myself."

Fen managed a brief laugh. Should he tell Ripley he and Judd were related? It wasn't a conversation for now. Judd had no idea who Fen was. Maybe it was better to keep it that way. But if Judd and Christian got married in June and Ripley was best man, then he'd expect Fen to be with him and what if his father saw him and… Fen could feel himself breathing too heavily.

"Open up, little chick." Ripley gave him another spoonful. "I think you needed sugar. You did too much. You're exhausted." He moved in front of the stool and Fen rested his head on Ripley's chest and wrapped his legs around him.

"I wish we had the hot tub right now," Ripley whispered. "Think it would be rude if I told everyone to fuck off?"

"Yes. You need to wait a bit longer."

"How much longer?"

"Ten minutes?"

Ripley sighed. "Think you can dance if I hold you up?"

"People are dancing?"

"A few."

"I'd love to dance with you."

Fen was still shaky but in Ripley's arms, he wasn't going to fall. They were doing little more than moving to the beat but Ripley held him tight, and Fen felt safe and wanted, for now at least.

Gradually, people began to leave. Seth and Morgan were among the first to go. Morgan slipped Fen's phone into his pocket and kissed him goodbye.

"You two look perfect," he whispered.

But they weren't perfect.