Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“I can’t believe it’s New Year’s Eve,” Paul said as they left Granny’s house. “The last few days have gone in a heartbeat.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Aron replied.

They hit the street and Paul slung his arm around Aron’s shoulders. God he liked it when he did that.

“More fun than Sydney?” Aron asked.

“Most certainly. Then anywhere with Aron Wimpole will do me.”

Aron groaned. “We really must talk about this corny shit. Perhaps it’s an age thing…Step- Uncle Paul.”

He was rewarded with a playful swat over the head before Paul put his arm back in position.

Nihal Varma’s annual New Year’s Eve shindig was already underway as they approached. Floodlights lit up his house and those lucky enough to get an invite flocked to it like moths to a flame.

“Good of Nihal to let us use Granny and the Prof’s invite,” Aron said. “I fear we’re trying to fill very big boots.”

Music pumped from the house. Nihal and his partner, Carl, were at the door. His party had always been the place to be seen, so Nihal hired door staff. A mound of a man in a black bomber jacket was listening intently to everything Nihal was saying.

Carl waved them over.

“Come on in, you two,” he said, beaming. “I hope you have a good time and enjoy some rest. Let us deal with everything tonight. It’s only fair after putting on the wedding to end all weddings.”

Nihal finished briefing their muscle-bound protecter and joined them. He slid his arm around Carl’s waist and held him close.

“You’ll find the rest of your grandmother’s appreciation society upstairs in the drawing room,” he said, smiling. “It appears they’ve taken it over. Oh and take a bottle of fizz up. Actually, make it two. It’ll save your legs.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t have people to do that?”

Nihal clapped him on the shoulder. “Staff talk.”

He glanced at Carl. As a leading politician, Carl had to be careful. Even getting drunk at the hen do had resulted in a photo of him staggering home being printed in the Evening Standard .

They walked into the house. Of course they knew their way around with it being a carbon copy of all the other houses on the street. In the kitchen they found Simon and Rodrigo with a child who was examining the buffet very carefully.

“Good evening and a happy new year,” Aron said.

“You’re supposed to say that after midnight,” the child replied.

Simon shook his head. “Aron, Paul, meet my son, Luca. He’s going through a cheeky phase at the moment, I’m afraid.”

His words might be stern yet his face was full of love.

“Ah, Luca,” Aron said. “My granny has told me lots of things about you.”

Luca looked confused for a second then his eyes widened. “Are you Mrs Wimpole’s grandson?”

Aron nodded.

“I love her,” he said. “And the Professor. My mum took me away for Christmas so I couldn’t come to the wedding. Mrs Wimpole said I can stay with them when they get home and they’re going to tell me all about it.”

“That sounds like fun,” Aron replied. “Will you be sleeping in my bed?”

“I might be.”

“No breaking wind then, please.”

This set Luca off in convulsive fits of laughter. What was it about boys and body functions?

“Thank you, Aron,” Simon said.

“Come on, you,” Paul added, holding up two bottles of Bollinger. “We’re on a mission, remember.”

“Catch you later,” Aron said.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Aron made a fart noise which set Luca off all over again.

“You’re more immature than he is,” Paul said as he climbed to the first floor.

Aron couldn’t be bothered to reply. He was far too busy enjoying the view of Paul’s ass.

Will I ever tire of that sight? I hope not.

The drawing room was wall-to-wall handsome gay men. Granny would be gutted to miss this.

“Blimey,” Aron exclaimed. “It’s like Soho in here. Do you all take your tops off at midnight?”

“Oh, hello,” Alexander said. He was squashed on one of the sofas with Zac on one side and Arvid on the other. “I see you two have come up for air.”

Aron scowled at him.

Paul handed one bottle to Arvid and set about opening the other.

“At least he’s making himself useful,” Alexander said.

“Leave him alone,” Zac said. “The poor guy’s had a busy week.”

Paul was making short work of his bottle and yanked the cork off with a pop. They all cheered.

“Fizz all round?” Paul asked, approaching Charles Worthington.

“Oh, not for me,” Charles replied.

Paul froze. Charles’ struggle with alcoholism had been a regular thing in the gutter press. Since meeting Luis, it appeared that everything was under control in that department. Much to the chagrin of the editors of all the scandal rags.

“I’m so sorry,” Paul said.

Charles shrugged. “Don’t be. Thanks to Mrs W I’ve found other things to get hooked on.”

He winked at Luis, who blushed.

“I’ll have one,” Luis said, holding his glass out.

Aron perched on the sofa arm next to Arvid.

“Are you on your own tonight, Arvid?”

“I’m afraid so. Cesar has a gig in Manchester. The curse of having a Christmas song, I guess.”

The room was filling up. Mercury came over and squeezed Aron’s shoulder.

“Happy?” Mercury asked.

“Blissful,” Aron replied. “You?”

Nick had joined Paul, Charles and Luis. It sounded like they were talking about cars. Something Aron had no idea about.

“I really am. It’s good, isn’t it?”

Aron nodded.

Normally, he would run a mile than be in a room surrounded by loved-up couples. Tonight, for the first time in years, he was one of them.

Jeremy and Stuart entered. They glanced around before making a beeline for Aron and Mercury.

“Hey, kids,” Jeremy said. “How you doing?”

“Good, thanks,” Mercury said. “Happy anniversary. Can you believe it’s been two years?”

Jeremy and Stuart had got together properly at Nihal’s party. They had started a chain reaction which appeared to have ended with Aron and Paul. Although when Granny got back, who knew what her next project would be. Aron couldn’t quite see her retiring from meddling just yet.

“So are you staying put?” Mercury asked Aron.

“Not exactly,” he replied. “I’ve not got the job yet and even if I do, I’ll have to serve my notice in New York.”

“New York?” Josh piped up from the window seat where he was sitting with his partner, Hugh, on his knee. “We’re spending a few months there. You’d better look me up.”

Alexander sat up. “I presume you’re headed stateside, Paul?”

“I am, Alexander,” Paul said. “I find myself in between assignments at the moment.”

“Take a good glimpse at those faces, Josh,” Alexander chipped in. “You won’t be seeing them any time soon.”

Aron shook his head. “Honestly, you shouldn’t judge everyone by your standards, Alexander. Josh, we’d love to meet up for dinner.”

“Come to the show,” Hugh added. “It was all thanks to your granny after all.”

Everyone in the room laughed knowingly.

“Here’s to Mrs W and the Prof,” Charles said, raising his glass of orange juice.

They all matched him.

It brought a tear to Aron’s eye. He couldn’t wait to get back over to London to join this little society she’d crafted for herself.

He grinned at Paul.

Hours later, they both wandered unsteadily along the cobbled stones of Queens Crescent. The champagne had flowed until they’d gone onto spirits.

“We’re going to be ill tomorrow,” Aron said, taking Paul’s hand.

“Lucky we got food in today.”

“Is that a sign of old age?” Aron asked. “Preparing for a hangover, I mean.”

Paul squeezed his hand. “It’s called wisdom.”

They walked over to the railings. Aron leant against them as Paul kissed him.

“You’re pretty good at that you know,” Aron said, licking his lips.

“Glad to be of service. You don’t mind me coming to New York with you?”

Aron laid his arms on Paul’s shoulders.

“Not in the slightest,” Aron replied. “A torrid affair in Manhattan sounds fun.”

“Then what?”

They both stared at the houses. Such a lot had happened on this little street. Outsiders would never understand the love that resided here.

Aron rested his head on Paul’s shoulder. No matter what the future held for any of them, Queens Crescent would always be a safe place. For everyone.

“Then we come home.”

Thank you for reading The Best of Times

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