"Loving the shoes…" Sam's eyes flicked haughtily down as he moved slightly to one side, allowing a little gap in the hallway for the babies buggy to get by.
"Thanks, Syed bought them for me." Amira flashed a cold smile and manoeuvred past, elbowing him in the chest as she did so. Steve shot a warning glance at Sam, hearing his mutter of "I bet he did," leaping forward to help Amira with the front door. He ducked down to beam delightedly at Yasmin and stroked her cheek. "She's beautiful!"
Amira touched her hair, the smugness of her expression counteracted by a faint air of unease at the two men's presence. "Isn't she! Syed's little princess, he dotes on her. Go through, he's quite busy but he can probably spare you a moment."
Spotting the myriad of faces Sam was pulling in quick succession behind Amira's back, Steve poked him roughly in the stomach and frogmarched him into the flat.
"What?" Sam protested noisily, "Silly cow… Oh, hello! You look shit!"
Syed lifted weary, blank eyes from the laptop, and attempted a smile.
"You two! How nice…" He made to get up from the sofa, and Sam pointed in horror.
"What's that tiny wicker monstrosity you're sitting on? Where's the real sofa gone?" He scanned the room, as if their previous sofa might be folded carefully in a corner, waiting to be unfurled. "Did SHE make you buy it?"
"No, we… Christian…" It seemed to both hurt Syed to say the name, and give him a secret pleasure, "the other one was a bit big for the space…" He absentmindedly moved one of Yasmin's babygro's from beside him. "How are you both? You look well…"
"You don't…" Sam began to sift through the unwashed crockery on the worktop, scowling with disdain. "State of this place!"
Steve shook his head in despair at Sam, and bent to envelop Syed in a hug, so fierce it crushed the breath from his body.
"As you can tell, Sam is on fine tactful form. He should really get himself a job with United Nations. How are you? Have you lost a bit of weight?"
Syed pulled at the neck of his green tee shirt.
"Maybe a little. Did you see Yasmin?"
"Your daughter? Yes, she's truly beautiful."
Turning the tap on at full force, and rolling up the sleeves of his designer sweater, Sam pursed his lips and grimaced, mouthing to himself; "Looks like a baby."
"You don't have to do that, Sam, I was just about to." Syed pointed at the screen of the laptop. "I've been trying to work out a business plan. Amira's had a great idea…"
"Oh, HAS she now?" Sam hissed, and Steve admonished him sharply, "For god's sake, will you pack it in?"
Syed regarded them both. Steve, almost filling the whole room with his bulk, emanating reassuring soothing warmth. Sam, waspishly clattering at the sink, trying to do something to help without letting anyone know that he was. It transported him briefly to a happier time, in the old flat, and he waited to hear a familiar voice from the other room, shouting abuse at Sam, watched the doorway to the bedroom, wanting it to be filled with broad shoulders, a beloved face. He dragged his gaze away, chiding himself for the same pathetic hope that made him wake each morning and turn to lay his head on Christian's chest, that made him listen for singing in the shower that never came.
"Have you heard from him?" Syed could barely get the words out, knowing, full well, what the answer would be. Steve sat beside him, crushing him up against the wicker arm, as Christian used to, and Syed tried to see a positive from the fact that at least now, spending the long evenings sat beside Amira or Jane, he had more room to stretch out.
"Not since the text, saying not to worry…"
"And that he was mending…" Syed added, clutching onto the small piece of information like a fragment of passing jetsam in a turbulent sea.
"Yes…" Steve put his arm around him, and Syed tensed his muscles, pulling away from the kindness, desperate not to crumble. Sam clattered a dish onto the drainer.
"He's a fucking idiot." He declared, stating his view as a fact, and dried his hands on a tea towel. "And I've ruined my nails. Doesn't that wife of yours DO housework?"
"It isn't one of Amira's strong points, no…" Syed admitted, feeling he should stick up for her, but lacking the inclination or the energy.
"Oh well, I suppose she's got lovely hair… What are you going to do?" Sam folded his arms, and studied Syed sternly.
"Do?"
"About all this mess."
"The flat?" Syed blinked at Sam in confusion.
"Don't be obtuse. About Christian, you remember him. Tall, muscles to die for, funny, loyal, heart too big for his own good, does mental things like fucking off and leaving the love of his life…"
Syed flushed with anger, and pushed away Steve's restraining hold.
"Exactly Sam, he left me. He won't answer my calls. I don't know where to look for him, and he doesn't want to be found. I have a child to care for, a job, a wife…"
"So that's it then, you're going to give up and go back to wifey? Good luck with that."
"SAM! We came round to give Syed support, not a hard time. Look at him, he's suffering…" Steve growled.
"Of course he bloody is. So is Christian, wherever the hell the stupid twat's taken himself off to. Oh, I could knock the pair of your heads together, so help me. And I am being supportive, I've done the dishes."
Syed ran his hands through his hair, feeling too defeated to explain, to say how nothing was as simple as Sam thought, as black and white, how things had been broken, trust eroded and how there was no chance of mending anything unless Christian came home.
"It is how it is…" He mumbled feebly. "Jane says I need to move on…"
"Maybe you do…" Steve's quiet deep voice rumbled close to his ear. "But it seems there's a danger of going backwards."
"You're wrong. There's Yasmin to think of, her future, I might go to Pakistan…"
"Oh for fucks sake!" Sam slapped his forehead with his palm. "What are you going to do there when you need cock? Sneak around? Go without forever? Do you think Christian's doing that? Believe me, it won't be long 'til he's back out there and some lucky fucker gets a go on him…"
The thought, that Syed had tried to keep buried, stuck into his guts with a red-hot stab of anguish and jealousy, making him clutch his stomach in despair.
"…Come home with us Syed, we'll sort you out."
Steve jumped to his feet and roughly manhandled Sam towards the door.
"I'm so sorry, Syed. I should have known it was a bad idea bringing Mr Insensitive round. If you need anything, someone to talk to, call me. I'll gag Sam and shove him in a cupboard, or I would, if I didn't think he'd enjoy it. But he does have a point, you know. There will come a time when you might consider being with someone else…"
Syed accepted their kisses numbly, heard them squabbling out into the square, Sam's outraged cries of insistence that he was right, squawking about 'tough love.'
He sat, immobile, watching the light fade through the Venetian blinds, thinking of nothing, until a key rattled in the front door and a baby cried.
TBC :) xx