Chapter 7

Sylvain

W hen those thugs knocked Vince to the ground, I ran to him in a flash. He might have been drunk, a little worse for wear, but he hadn't deserved to be robbed.

I'd spotted him earlier, eating alone at Chez George, a place owned by the uncle of one of our employees, Fabien.

I'd never trusted him. He always seemed to attach himself to the lone visitors, promising them a good night at the restaurant. Not that a mugging had happened before. They would usually tempt them in, offer them free drinks at the first visit, then fleece them on subsequent visits, making back their money and more.

After the last time, I'd already planned to speak to Fabien, but an impromptu business trip to the UK had prevented that.

Leaving Vince lying on the ground, blood pouring from a cut on his head, hadn't been an option. No one had helped him, and a few bystanders had sniggered. Some I recognised, and I'd be having words with them the next time I saw them.

I had no other choice than to take him back to my place. Giselle wouldn't mind.

What I hadn't been prepared for was the blatant flirting. Amused and flattered, I knew it was the drink talking. Tomorrow, he would see things in a completely different light.

Giselle and I had manoeuvered him upstairs with some difficulty, and I sat in the armchair, watching him as he snored quietly.

Who was Theo? An ex-boyfriend?

It was a good job I'd turned up when I had. Would anyone else have helped him? Possibly and although tourists were the mainstay of our economy here, Vince had done nothing to dispel the myth that the English were rowdy drunks.

Even though I didn't know him, that wasn't the impression I got. He'd seemed fairly meek and mild, bashful even. Just my type, although I'd not been with a man nor had a boyfriend in a few years.

Giselle was the product of a love affair that would never have worked. Claudette had been my best friend. By the time we found out she was pregnant, we'd already gone our separate ways. For years, I'd done what our parents had expected of me, but deep down, I'd known it wasn't what I wanted.

They'd had high hopes of a successful, prosperous, and child-filled marriage and were sorely disappointed when that didn't happen.

I'd moved away but had always been there for Giselle and Claudette. Abandoning them had never been an option.

When she'd felt ready, Giselle had left her mother and moved in with me. That had been three years ago. She was twenty-four now. I was closing in on forty-eight, although my greying hair said differently.

"Sylvain!"

I startled awake. Merde, I should have kept an eye on him, but the busy day had taken its toll.

Vince sat on the edge of the bed, his hair sticking up in all directions, a look of horror on his face.

"Why am I here? What in hell happened?" A flush crept along his cheeks.

"You don't remember?" Loss of memory could be a sign of a concussion. Maybe a trip to the hospital was in order.

He buried his head in his hands. "I remember now. God, I was such a fool."

"Why don't you get back in bed, rest some more? I'll get us some coffee."

"I…I…I need the toilet."

Of course he would.

"Out of the door, turn right, and it's the second door along."

Without looking at me, he rushed from the room. Aware I too was only in my shorts, I grabbed a T-shirt and pulled it on.

I went downstairs to the kitchen. Giselle was getting ready to leave.

"Is he okay?" She leant against the worktop, a mug in her hand.

"He seems to be. I'll get him some coffee, let him rest a little more. Then I'll take him back to the resort."

"You have a meeting at ten. Shall I tell them you'll be late?"

"Let me see how things go. I have a few hours yet."

I placed two mugs of coffee, milk, and sugar on a tray.

"See you later, Papa." She kissed my cheek and walked out the door, leaving me alone with a man in my house. It'd been a long time since that had happened.

When I entered the bedroom, Vince had dressed.

"Where are you going? I brought coffee."

"I've taken up too much of your time. Sorry for being such a burden, but thank you for looking after me." He stepped towards the door.

"Hey, no need to rush off. It's still early, and you need more rest." I pulled the covers back and patted the bed. "I'm not going to do anything other than make sure you're okay. You took a nasty fall last night, and I need to redress that graze on your head."

The plaster I'd put over it was dark red, and droplets seeped from the cuts on his hands.

He sat back on the bed, tears falling steadily.

"I can't even go on holiday right. I fuck everything up."

"Get back into bed. Let me look at your cuts, and then we'll talk. Okay?"

He removed his shoes and climbed back under the covers. I handed him a coffee and sat on the edge of the bed.

I carefully removed the Band-Aid. The wound had stopped bleeding and wouldn't cause him any issues. It wouldn't even scar. Dabbing at it with an antiseptic wipe, I cleaned it up as best I could, then applied another dressing.

"There. Good as new."

"How come your English is so good?"

"I do a fair bit of work in the UK, so it helps to know the language. Sometimes I get stuck, but mostly, I can get by."

I didn't tell him I'd spent part of my youth in the UK, working in bars to get by. Bilingual and bisexual.

I returned to the couch, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was.

Silence filled the room, his eyes darting every so often to me.

"Who's Theo?" I sipped my coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste.

"Oh, what did I say? I shouldn't be allowed out alone."

"You mentioned him and someone called Glen. You called him a twat." I laughed at his ears turning pink.

"Theo is the reason I'm here. We fell out at Lexi's wedding."

"Who's Lexi?"

"She's my other best friend. It's a long story, going back years, but safe to say, Theo and I were friends. Now we're not. He got engaged to Glen, the twat. We both said some unforgivable things, and that's why I'm here. I needed a break from everything, especially after I got an invitation to the wedding."

"Ah. Let me get this straight. You argued with Theo at Lexi's wedding, and he invited you to his wedding, so you came here?"

"Essentially, yes. Lexi says I should go to Theo's wedding, but…I can't go."

"Do you have feelings for Theo?"

He blushed again. "Yeah, I did for a long time, but then Glen came along, and well, it all went to shit after that. Theo never looked at me the way he looks at Glen."

"When's the wedding?" He'd relaxed a little, although I got the feeling this was difficult for him to talk about.

"In a month, back in the UK. He said he was going abroad for the wedding, but it's in Stratford. Home of William Shakespeare. Even if I wanted to go, I'm loathe to pay out to stay in a hotel for a couple of days to attend a wedding I'm going to hate."

"Then don't go." Surely, it was as simple as that.

"I could."

"But you want to go."

"Yes and no. He's been my friend for fifteen years, and he did text me, asking if we could talk. But he said unforgivable things, cruel things. He hurt me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now. I'm embarrassed enough as it is today without telling you what he thought of me."

"I'm sure it's not true."

"He said I always fawned over him, and I guess I did. But he called me pathetic. That might have been Glen's words. He's been turning Theo against me for months. He finally succeeded."

"I think you should go to the wedding."

He worried his lip and shook his head.

"I can't. Not after what he said." He looked crestfallen, and my heart went out to him.

"It'd be a shame to throw away your friendship over a silly argument. Your friend, Lexi, is it? Will she be going?"

"Yeah, she is. I could go with her and her husband, I suppose. They wouldn't mind, but I don't want to be like a spare dick at a wedding."

I frowned. What was he talking about?

"So I'd be the odd one out. Lexi would have Robin, Theo would obviously have Glen." He sighed. "I have no one."

"Then find someone to go with you."

"I don't know anyone. That's just it. I have friends, but they wouldn't come to a wedding with me, not like a date or anything, and anyway, the guys hate Glen more than I do. "

Interesting. Guys, as in men or friends in general. Time to test the waters. He could go for it or not.

"I could come with you."

He barked out a laugh. "You and me? That's kind of you to offer, but with all due respect, you don't know me. I could be a serial killer."

I chuckled. The thought of this inoffensive man committing murder was too bizarre for words.

"Hey, I could be." But he smiled, so he knew I didn't see that in him.

"I could be one as well, but the chances of two serial killers meeting up is a little far-fetched, don't you think?"

"I've only just met you, Sylvain. I couldn't expect you to do that. And…"

"And what?" I didn't see a problem.

"Well, how can I put this without offending you."

"Why would you offend me?"

"I'm a man. You're a man."

Oh, maybe I'd read him wrong, but somehow I didn't think so.

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me, but you have a daughter."

"I do."

"Aren't you married? I'm not prying, mind. I'm just finding it hard to understand how someone like you would offer to come with me." He shifted on the bed and looked at his hands clasped in his lap.

"I'm not married, nor do I have a girlfriend. I haven't had a boyfriend in a few years either, too busy with work."

"Oh… Oh . I see."

"I could be the solution you've been looking for. I have to be in the UK for a week to oversee a job. No reason I can't kill two birds with one stone. Think it over and let me know. No pressure, but just think of the look on his face when you turn up with a plus-one. Is that how you say it?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Not something he would expect."

My phone rang before we could discuss it further.

It was my business partner, but I let it go to voicemail.

"I've taken up far too much of your time. I should get back." He pulled back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Plus, I have to sort out my missing cards and stop them, then find some more money."

"Was it all in your wallet?"

"No, thankfully, I'd kept most of it in the safe in the villa. I only had about fifty euros on me. It's my cards I'm more worried about."

"I'll drop you at the resort, and you can ask one of the girls to help you. Tell them I said it was okay."

"Do you own the place?"

"Hmmm, not technically. I run the resort for a large organisation, so I don't own it, but people answer to me." It was the best way of describing my position there.

"Ooh, so I'm talking to the boss man."

"If you like, yes. Let me get dressed, and then I can take you back. I'm sorry this happened to you in my village."

He widened his eyes. "God, do you own that too?"

"Non, I don't own the village, but I have lived here for a long time. It's my home."

"I'm so stupid sometimes. I always was the gullible one of the group."

"You're not stupid. Don't put yourself down." Someone had done a number on him, and I had a pretty good idea who that might be. "Think it over. I'll meet you downstairs."

Outwardly calm, I walked into the bathroom, locked the door, and leant against it. Him being in my bedroom had set my heart racing. It was a wonder Vince had not heard its rapid beat. It drummed loudly in my ears.

When he confirmed my initial thoughts of him being gay, a thrill had coursed through me, but that didn't mean anything would ever come of it. And I'd never do anything he didn't want me to.

It'd give me immense pleasure to see the look on his friend's face when we turned up at the wedding. I got the feeling he'd looked down on Vince, especially since Glen had appeared on the scene.

I understood Vince's reluctance, though. He didn't know me, but hopefully, when he was here, we could rectify that.

Would he be willing to spend some more time with me? There was no harm in asking. Was there?