Christian turned sharply as Syed slammed the iron down onto the board.
"Why did you invite them anyway?"
Christian straightened his tie in the mirror and answered mildly.
"I thought you liked them."
Syed pulled at the ironed blue shirt crossly and stuffed his arms into the sleeves.
"She's nice, and he's alright when he's not drunk. Which, when he's with you he invariably is. All that boasting about his money and what car he's driving. And why does he keep having to touch you? I thought he was meant to be straight."
Christian took his suit jacket carefully from the clothes hanger.
"He's a metrosexual, in touch with his emotions. I'll ask him to stop if it upsets you."
Syed ducked underneath him, elbowing him aside, and dragged a pair of shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe, his muffled voice muttering,
"Don't bother on my account."
He sat on the side of the bed and dropped the shoes on the floor angrily.
"Why are you wearing a tie? I thought we were going to a pub? Why can't we just meet them in the Vic?"
Christian sighed and smoothed down his jacket, checking himself for a final time in the mirror.
"So many questions, Sy. I fancied looking smart, I've spent all week in a vest. It's a bar and we spend most of our lives in the Vic. We're not Dot and Jim you know. That do you?"
Syed grunted and stood up.
"I'm not wearing a tie. Can't I just stay here?"
Christian shook his head firmly.
"No you bloody can't, you misery. Now shut up and get down those stairs."
Syed double locked the blue door and winced as Christian gave a piercing whistle.
"Ow! Why do you do that? Couldn't you just put your arm up like normal people? I've got ringing in my ears now."
The taxi drew up in front of them and Christian held the door open for Syed to climb in. Joining him on the back seat he answered.
"Sorry. It's what you do, I've seen it in the films. Piccadilly please mate."
The cab driver nodded and pulled away. Syed sat hunched in the corner, as far away from Christian as he could possibly get. When Christian tried to take his hand he snatched it away petulantly.
"What's the matter with you Sy? You're like a grumpy crow."
Christian hissed at him, anger in his voice.
Syed fought down the feeling he always got when Christian shouted, a sudden desire that never really helped him in arguments.
"You do know what day it is?" he snapped.
In the dark of the car, a slow smile crossed Christian's face and he looked fixedly out of the window to hide it.
"It's Saturday. I hope that helps."
The journey, spent in a frosty silence, seemed to last an age. Eventually Christian said to the driver,
"Here's fine thanks. How much is that?"
Syed stood sulkily on the pavement, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Christian pointed up at the hotel behind him.
"Look Sy. The Ritz. Shall we have a look round? We could use their toilets."
He grabbed Syed's hand and dragged him up the stairs, flashing a broad smile at the man in the top hat who opened the doors for them.
On the thick plush carpet of the foyer, under the glittering lights of the chandelier, Syed felt himself blushing.
"Christian, they'll kick us out. I haven't got a tie on. This is embarrassing."
Christian slowly pulled a tie from the inside pocket of his jacket and dangled it in front of Syed's face.
A waiter quietly approached them.
"May I help you sirs?"
Christian nodded and grinned charmingly.
"We have a reservation. Table for two, name of Clarke."
Syed looked down at his shoes, and then up at Christian through lowered lids.
"I've been a dick, haven't I?"
Christian took Syed's hands and brought them up to his chest, moving in closer.
"Yes Syed Masood, you have. A complete dick, an utter dick, a prize dick. Possibly the biggest dick in the world, well, bar mine. But you're my dick, and I love you."
Syed hoped he wouldn't dissolve into a puddle on the posh carpet as he returned the burning look in Christian's eyes.
"Happy Anniversary Sy."
"Happy Anniversary Christian."