"Hello matey! This is a lovely surprise. Can you hear me? I've got a massive cigar!"

"I'm sure you have Michael."

Christian pressed the phone closer to his ear, struggling to hear above the background chatter of a lively club and the strains of a jazz band.

"I can't light it, because there's a smoking ban here too. Do you think it was rolled on the thighs of a virgin? I hope it was a male virgin. How are you? How's Syed? Are you excited?"

"Yes!"

'Well I am.' Christian thought sadly. 'Hard to tell if Sy is.'

"You sound excited too. Are you having a good time?"

"I'm rat arsed on Daiquiri… Hang on; I'll take you outside with me. Ooh err."

Waiting, imagining Michael pushing through a crowd and emerging into the hot city street, Christian shivered, sensing the oncoming winter, smelling it above the car fumes and the sweet scent of the privet hedge beside him.

"That's better…"

There was a further pause while Michael searched for a lighter followed by a deep inhalation and a fit of coughing.

"Fuck that's rank." He gasped, adding croakily. "How's everything going?"

"Good! Sy's mum's being a bit of a nightmare with the arrangements, but I'm holding my own."

"Are you? Oh you poor thing." Michael giggled. "The formidable Mrs Masood. Miracle she's on board."

"Yes." Christian agreed. "It bloody is. How've you been doing? How's Rory?"

"Aw, he's lovely, thank you. He's lecturing in York today, then all points north or else he'd have been at your wedding."

"Leching?" Christian grinned, deliberately mishearing.

"Steady! He'd better not be. Lecturing. He's being brainy and I'm posing in skimpy briefs."

"Both doing what you're best at then. Are you being good?"

"I'm always good. There's a particularly cute boy who's been checking out my arse, he's going to be gutted when he gets nowhere near it. How's Syed?"

"Okay. Busy with work and wheeler dealing. You haven't spoken to him then?"

"I'm going to sit on this step. Whoa, spinny. Wheeler dealing? He used to try to do that at school with his dinner money. I hope he's got better at it. No, I've called once or twice but I think I caught him at a bad time. He's helping Tam at the Arjee isn't he?"

"Yeah. I hardly see him. We've got Yas at the minute too, so what with wedding planning, work and looking after her, it's been full on."

"I can imagine! Worth it though. Oh cock it, I wish we could be there. We're sending something huge that I got told off about. It's marvellously impractical. Aargh, I want to tell you what it is. I'm crap at secrets. Not like Syed."

Christian's sudden tension seemed to crackle through the atmosphere, transmitting itself like a sonar squeak, crossing continents in seconds.

"Christian? What's up?"

"Nothing... Something. I'm a bit concerned about him. He's really quiet, distant. Oh don't listen to me, we're all tired."

"Gone all withdrawn and snappy? Eyes look wrong?"

"Yep. That's the kind of thing. I've tried cheering him up. Got his family round for a film night."

Michael snorted.

"I'm not sure that would help. What did you watch? Predator?"

"Ha! Maybe we should have. Oh, I don't know. Now I'm getting arsey with him."

"I used to kick footballs at his head when he had a nark on. Never worked. Is it pre-wedding jitters? You know him better than anyone, Christian. He loves you. You're getting married. Be happy."

"We are, aren't we?" Brightening slightly, Christian felt his enthusiasm, dampened by Syed's strange mood, starting to resurrect, slowly and tentatively.

"Go and kick a football at his head. See if you have better luck. Make sure you ring us and send us loads of pics. See you when I get back?"

"Definitely. Don't you flirt with Sy. He'll be my husband then."

"He will indeed. Ow! Shit, I'm being bitten to bits by mosquitos. Must be because I'm so succulent… I'll try and ring him again, but if he won't tell you what's wrong he sure as hell won't tell me. Take care, you. Give Syed a big snog from me."

"I will. Love to Rory. See you soon Michael."

As Christian slipped his phone into his back pocket, the front door opened and he smiled tightly.

"Hey."

"Hey. What are you doing out here? You'll get cold."

Syed hunched his shoulders seeming to look through Christian, far away into a sea of trouble.

"Phoning some people."

"You could have done that indoors."

"Thought I'd give you space to stew."

Christian bit his lip, wishing he hadn't said anything when he saw Syed shift uncomfortably, a beaten look clouding his features.

"Christian…"

"What?"

"Nothing. Are you coming in?"

"Sure. I thought you were going to bed?"

Passing him in the hallway, Christian briefly touched the back of Syed's hair, a tender gesture, wishing he could release all the pent up tension gnarled inside of him, take it into his own body, deal with it for him and disperse it, blowing it away like rainbow bubbles on the wind.

"Yas woke up. Who were you talking to?"

"Sam and then Michael. They send their love."

Syed followed him inside. Picking up the keys from the bowl, he double locked the door to the flat behind him, making them secure, safe in their home. Sliding the bolt across, he caught his thumb on the metal, pinching the skin. Welcoming the pain that momentarily took his mind away from other woes; he carefully placed the keys down.

"Aw. That's nice. How are they?"

"Good." Christian busied himself, collecting up glasses and putting them quietly and neatly into the sink. "Gutted they can't make it. Michael was pissed."

"Was he?"

"Yes he was."

A silence hung between them, broken only by Christian turning on the water full force, watching as the suds foamed around his hands, remembering blood on a cut finger, an electrical spark that left him breathless.

"Oh. I'll get to bed then."

"You do that."

Syed hesitated in the doorway, gazing longingly at the muscular curve of Christian's back as he methodically scoured and stacked. He yearned to wrap his arms around him, collapse weeping, tell him everything, the whole sorry mess. He opened his mouth to speak, confess and stopped, vowing to make it all better, to pay, somehow, for the wedding Christian deserved.

"I will." His voice cracked but Christian, tipping the water down the plughole, didn't hear.

"I'll be in shortly."

"Don't call me shortly…" Syed laughed feebly. "I'll check on Yas."