In Sickness and In Health
Chapter 4
"….in sure and certain hope……" The vicar's solemn words continued in the background.
"This is all your fault," Lucy hissed. "All he was to you was just some dirty little secret."
"She's right," he heard Roxy Mitchell agree.
"No. No…please don't. Not true."
"Isn't it, Syed?" Jane's voice rang in his head. "He was worth more than that…and you broke his heart."
"Yeah, you did…you broke his heart. This is your fault…all your fault," Lucy hissed again.
Attention was drawn back to the vicar, as his voice came to the fore again.
"….a much loved brother, a kind and caring uncle. He was generous and giving, loved by the friends who knew him…and above all…." Here, the vicar turned and in what seemed like slow-motion, fixed him with a cold and accusatory stare. "…someone's 'dirty little secret'."
Accusing eyes all turned in his direction.
This is your fault…your fault… You broke his heart…dirty little secret… Worth more than that… Your fault…broke his heart….
The accusations rang in his head, until he could take no more.
He dropped to his knees; heart-sore and face streaked with tears. His agony was complete. "NOOOO…nooo… Christian, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. Didn't mean….Christian, I'm sorry."
**********
He was thankful for the day off. One more day, not to have to be around Syed, pretending they were coping; that they had accepted the situation and everything was alright, when it clearly wasn't. Christian had just finished making himself a coffee and brought it over to the sofa, intending to have a read at a magazine he wasn't really all that interested in.
He hadn't much of an interest in anything these days. They had worked another function on the previous Friday afternoon and that evening an old mate had rung, wanting him to go out 'clubbing' over the weekend. And he'd surprised even himself, when he turned down the invitation. Just couldn't face it; not then anyway. Perhaps it just reminded him too much of his old care-free ways, before there was Syed and what he'd started to feel for him; when he thought nothing of partying away a weekend and bedding that weekend's particular 'hottie'; any number of which were available and always willing. He had got to the stage and even told Syed, in their early days, that he no longer wanted an endless stream of one-night stands but a lasting and meaningful relationship. And he meant it. Though admittedly, he had disappeared for weekend just recently; 'rockin in Vauxhall', after feeling down about the 'Small Business Awards' dinner and Syed then not being able to get a hold of him when panicked about 'Bad Boy' being sprayed on his door. He had 'rocked it' but indulged in nothing more than a few drunken kisses; sleeping it off then, on a mate's sofa…alone. That definitely wouldn't have happened before there was Syed. But there may come a time, when he would be grateful for a 'lost' weekend or two; just too completely 'lose' himself in!
It was well into the afternoon now, when his phone rang and picking it up off the table, his eyes rolled on seeing the 'caller display'. He had thought seriously about not answering it, sure he knew what would be wanted of him; so much so, he casually tossed it onto the sofa beside him. He did not want to talk 'wedding', discuss 'wedding', even think about this wedding right now. And he especially did not want to hear that dreaded name, 'Fronk'.
But it kept on ringing.
"What'd you want, Amira?"
"Awww, Christian…you sound just about as happy as Syed!"
"Yeah well, it's been that kind of week. Look, Amira…I'm really not in the mood for talking wedding arrangements. Some other time, eh!" Though 'never' would be too soon for him.
"No…it's nothing to do with the wedding," she continued, seeming to totally ignore how he sounded.
"What then?"
"It's Syed."
The very mention of the name made him draw breath and fill him with all kinds of mixed emotion.
He forced himself to be composed though and hoped to god, she wasn't going to ask him for any advice, especially if it was to do with physical intimacy. "What about him?"
"Weeell…it's just, he seems all sweaty….!"
"Too much information, darlin," he returned, with dour dryness.
Sweat on Syed though, was a good thing. But only with him; because then it meant they'd had another highly-charged, testosterone-fuelled 'make-out' session! Even with long and lingering love-making, their skin would be left glowing, simply because of their 'effort' and because, once aroused, they wouldn't stop, couldn't stop until 'satisfied'.
"Nooo, not like that! Christian…you are naughty," Amira giggled, in girly fashion. "No, I think he has a cold."
Christian was not impressed. "A cold. You called to tell me…Syed has a cold! So…just what is it you expect me to do!"
"Well, you're my 'Fronk'….."
Christian's jaw set tight.
"…I thought you could come round and take a look!"
He liked Amira; he really did but sometimes the girl's uselessness in such simple things just defied belief. The girl didn't even know how to use an iron!
"D'you know how to use this thing?"
"You tellin me, you've never used an iron before!"
"That's what dry-cleaners are for, isn't it!" she had dead-panned.
If her only use for it was to 'iron' her hair because her hair-straighteners were broken then, he rested his case!
"If it's just a cold, Amira….! Anyway, why not call Zainab…she's going to be your mother-in-law, isn't she?"
It wasn't that he was unfeeling but for just a few sniffles, he was sure Syed wouldn't appreciate his intervention. The boy could be 'prickly' enough at the best of times and with the way things were now between them!
"You are joking!" the young woman replied dryly and Christian could just see her eyes rolling. "She thinks I'm useless enough as it is!"
It wasn't often he agreed with his 'nemeses' but…! Christian drew a deep breath; drawing on all his patience. "Okay, okay, give him…give him a couple of tablets…or a hot drink or something. He'll be fine."
But she pulled out her best, 'little Miss Helpless'. "Oh pleeeease, Christian…couldn't you just come round? You're so much better at all these things than I am…."
He should have seen that coming and had to shake his head like, 'am I that easily flattered', do I really have 'mug' written across my forehead! Of course, she had pulled that stunt before; roping him back into the engagement arrangements when he had wanted nothing more to do with it. "Ohh, you're good," he'd told her and she was. She was a natural; it came as easily to her as breathing. She truly was, 'daddy's little princess'.
"….besides, it's you he keeps calling for."
Now that did get his attention.
"What! What do you mean, Amira?"
"Well, he fell asleep on the sofa earlier and now he's started mumbling…"
Syed, talking in his sleep! Cute and adorable as that sounded, it probably was not a good thing; especially if his name was obviously being mentioned. Amira though, didn't sound as if she was hearing anything 'incriminating'.
"…he just keeps saying your name over and over and saying he's sorry…he didn't mean it. What's that all about, Christian?"
He was thrown for a moment but quickly composed himself.
"We…eh…we had, 'words'…but it's…it's nothing. Look, I'm on my way, okay?"
From the moment he entered the room, in Amira's flat, he was concerned.
Syed was tossing restlessly on the sofa and did indeed sound as if he was mumbling. Christian was at his side in an instant and could now see that his young lover's skin was clammy, sweat beading on his forehead and what sounded like a wheezing in his chest, every time he breathed. Whatever had happened and was not 'happening' now, with his 'hot/cold, on again/off again' young lover, was immediately forgotten, with the realisation Syed did look ill.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Christian laid the back of his hand against Syed's brow; his own brow now creased in a heavy frown. "Amira…I thought you said he just had a cold!"
"Hasn't he!"
"No. He has a temperature."
"Well, what would I know! See! That's why I need my 'Fronk' here."
Another patient breath. "Okay. Go get me a cloth…we need to try and cool him down a little." Christian then turned his attention back to the restless young man and quietly sighed. "Aw, baby…I should've known you'd make yourself ill." He then began gently stroking his face to rouse him. "Sy, it's me…Christian. Come on, baby…wake up."
He knew that voice, that accent; that rich gravel-toned husk. It was as familiar to him as his own heartbeat, as much a part of him as his life's breath…and he didn't think he'd ever hear it again. Was it his imagination; born of guilt and just sheer desperation to cling to any last vestige of the man!
Yet there it was again, reaching down into his foggy haze. "Ch…Christian….!"
Forcing himself to focus, he was met by a beautiful but concerned smile.
"Yeah, babe…I'm here." Tenderly, Christian brushed back damp tendrils of the luscious dark locks from off the young man's brow; swallowing back the rising well of emotion at seeing those beautiful deep brown eyes now red-rimmed and watery with pain.
Just then a cloth was thrust at him, with a triumphant, "Here."
Christian reached for it but had to close his eyes momentarily, to draw on another patient breath. "Amira…it's dry, babe. It needs to be squeezed out in tepid water…to cool him down….!"
"Well, you should have said you wanted it wet," she pouted indignantly.
"…and that's a dishcloth! I think we'd be better off with a facecloth, babe."
With Amira off to complete her task once more, this time with more detailed instructions, Christian turned his attention back again, to where it was most needed.
"Hey, how you feelin?"
He had started to feel tired and achy not long after getting to Amira's flat, so had lain down on the sofa for a bit of a sleep, thinking that was all he needed. He had been working hard, had thrown himself into a lot more extra work, in an effort to forget. Now that he was awake, he was feeling wretched; which only served to make him more emotional. And on seeing those beautiful chiselled features, with his sea-green eyes, swim into focus; the emotion spilled over, along with the tears.
"Ch…Christian…is it really you? You're here…you're really here?"
"Yeah, Sy…it's me. Hey, what is it?"
"I…I thought…I thought you were dead…."
Christian's eyes widened a little in surprise. But he instantly reassured his obviously ill young lover. "No, babe no…I'm not dead. Why would you think…..?"
"There was ….a funeral. I…I was there. Watched them…bury…. You were gone….all my fault…. They all said…my fault…."
Realisation then dawned on the Walford caterer. Christian cupped the young Masood's face; tenderly thumbing his cheek. "Ssshh…it's okay now. It was just a dream, baby…just a bad dream…"
"It was…so real…"
"I'm alive…I promise you. And I'm here for you," he then added in whisper.
Syed reached up to clasp his hand over Christian's. He just needed to touch him, wanting to reassure himself that this wasn't a dream and Christian really was alive and here, with him. "I'm sorry…sorry, Christian. I didn't mean it…don't want to push you away."
It was clear Syed was feeling emotional and he would have to have had a heart of stone not to be totally melted by those pained and watery brown eyes. He didn't and he was. Christian could feel himself welling up. "I know, babe. But it's okay now…"
"You two made it up again. Aww, that's nice. Here, Christian…will this do?" And Amira thrust a now cooled facecloth in his direction.
Seeing Syed's momentary look of anxiety! "Told her, we just had a bit of a 'spat'…but we're good now." Taking the cloth and giving his lover a quiet smile of reassurance, Christian began bathing his face. "Now, tell me how you're feeling?"
"Feels like…like someone's beating a drum in…in my head….a really big drum. And really loud. Hot…and a bit shivery. Throat's sore….chest hurts a bit now too."
Christian gave him a sympathetic smile, as he continued to dab around his face. "Hmm….sounds like flu."
"You don't think it's that 'swine flu', do you!" Amira chirped in and sounding a little concerned. Only it wasn't quite to be in the way Christian expected!
"I'd say it's a safe bet." Christian returned his attention to his ill lover, sliding an arm under the young man, to help raise him up. "Come on…we need to get you into bed and make you more comfortable. Then we can get Doctor Al to come take a look at you."
The look on Amira's face was a picture. "You don't mean here!"
"Well yeah…here, Amira. Where do you think?"
"Emmmm, you couldn't take him…somewhere…else..!" Amira 'suggested', with a little wince.
"What!" He surely couldn't have heard right…could he!
"It's just…I don't do 'sick'."
Under any other circumstances that might have been laughable.
"What do you mean…you don't do 'sick'!"
"I'm just not very good around sick people. Syed knows that…don't you, Syed?"
Christian wasn't entirely sure he did and felt completely gutted for his young lover. Syed was actually intending to commit himself to this young woman and the first signs of illness he shows, she what! She doesn't do 'sick'! Is this really what he wanted from his marriage! A partner who can't, or won't stand by him, when he needs it the most! It didn't bode well.
He shook his head in a laugh of disbelief. "I don't believe I'm hearing this! He's your fiancée, Amira. Look at him for god's sake…he's ill. He needs looking after….now."
"Exactly…and I wouldn't have a clue. That's why you're here, isn't it!"
'Daddy's little princess' had an answer for everything.
"…and what if I got it too! I wouldn't be much use to him then, now would I!"
"Yes…I could see how that would be a real tragedy," Christian muttered; trying really hard not to let the sarcasm come spilling out. He failed miserably. But it didn't seem to matter for it just washed right over the young woman.
"See…I knew you'd understand. And besides, I'm sure he'd be much more comfortable at home, with Zainab looking after him."
Someone else could see Christian was getting angrier by the minute and the soft pleading of his name brought the hunky caterer's attention to where it was most needed.
"Yeah, Sy…okay," Christian nodded quietly.
It was testament to their deepening feelings for each other that it took barely a word or just a knowing look between them, to communicate; to fully understand each other.
Christian drew a deep breath. "You're right, Amira. He does need to be where he can be looked after properly. Get me his jacket, will you?"
"Think you can manage?" he then husked softly. And when Syed indicated he was willing to give it a go, Christian helped him sit upright; to gain his equilibrium before getting him to his feet.
It took a moment and Syed had to close his eyes briefly and swallow hard against the sudden nausea.
Of course, Christian was immediately attentive, seeing how decidedly pale he looked. "You okay, babe?"
"Yeah…just wish my head would stop pounding."
"Amira…you got any of those cold and flu tablets?"
"No, sorry," she winced with embarrassment.
Now why did that not surprise him!
"A glass of water then!" he asked stiffly and inwardly annoyed that it never even occurred to her to offer him such a basic necessity.
He really was trying not to be totally exasperated. Especially when, after handing her back the glass Syed had drunk from and he was so thirsty, Amira held it at arm's length, between thumb and forefinger, as though she were trying to have as little contact as possible. He half expected her to be wearing a bio-hazard suit; that it was contaminated by toxic nuclear waste!
"Come on…let's get this jacket on and get you out of here." And Christian went to help his ill lover put it on.
"Don't want to…too hot," Syed groused.
Christian couldn't help but smile adoringly at his petulant young lover. "I know. But it's cold outside, babe…we really need to put this on. Don't want you getting any worse."
"Oh no…not when we've still so much to do for this wedding," Amira chimed in, obviously thinking more of the total inconvenience of it all. "So, you just do what Christian tells you, babe."
Christian's jaw set tight.
It was the older man's quiet strength and powers of persuasion though that were just too much for Syed and he gave in without a fight. It hadn't always been that way, of course. He'd had to fight many a time against Christian's 'powers of persuasion'; 'that's a nasty bruise/want to kiss it better' being a prime example…but not this time.
The Walford caterer was feeling quite snarky now and no-one did 'snarky' better than Christian Clarke. He had long perfected it over the years, partly as a defence mechanism but mostly when he wasn't too happy with someone's attitude or behaviour, or when he felt they were just making excuses. As he helped Syed on with his jacket….!
"I take it there's no equivalent of 'in sickness and in health' in your ceremony then, Amira?"
"Oh, Christian…you are funny…," she playfully reprimanded.
He wasn't laughing.
"….of course there is. But that's what mother-in-laws are for…isn't it!" she drolled.
"I thought you said, on the phone….! You know what…never mind." Amira was obviously a law unto herself and would always change the 'rules' when it was most advantageous and he really couldn't be bothered now. He had more important things to take care of or rather, a more important someone. "Come on, hot-shot…let's get you home."
He had just raised Syed to his feet when the realisation of what he'd just said hit them; for both knew he wasn't referring to 41 Albert Square! Home! It had been another of those words that just slipped out and easily now for Christian, like 'boyfriend'; such was the effect this young man was having on him. But unlike 'boyfriend', this one had them sharing another of those looks; the significance of that one innocent and innocuous little word and all that it implied, not lost on either of them.
Being on his feet now though, Syed felt more than a little shaky; like his legs had suddenly turned to jelly. And while it might have been tempting to think it was solely down to his sheer animal magnetism and the fact for Syed that he was being taken home, back to his place, Christian was, in fact, a little more sensible. He knew it was more down to the symptoms of the flu than anything to do with him.
Again, Christian was instantly attentive. "Whoa there, cowboy. It's okay…I've got ya." And he wrapped a supportive arm around Syed's waist.
Ill and all as he was, Syed couldn't ignore the feeling of, once more, being held against that solid muscular body and the tremendous comfort he felt right at that moment. His only regret though; being so 'stuffed up', he couldn't breathe in the familiar, beautiful scent of the man. And for Christian too, suddenly having Syed against him again, holding him, touching him, was such an incredibly beautiful thing. It was all he could do to remember where he was and who else was here; all he could do to stop himself from taking this beautiful man in the deepest of kisses. It had been a long time for both of them, too long…and they both felt it.
But a cough from Syed brought them quickly back to the present and they headed for the door.
"Oh, Christian…what should I do? Should I disinfect the place!" Amira called out after him, as she looked around, wandering just where to start.
"Yeah, why don't you just do that, Amira," Christian returned dryly. He let the door bang shut and they were gone.
Even through the thickness of both their jackets, Christian could feel Syed shiver against him, as he helped the young man down the steps of the George St flat.
"You okay?"
Syed nodded and then wished he hadn't and even though it was already growing dark, just being outside was making his eyes hurt.
Christian instinctively tightened his supportive grip. "Just hang it there, babe…not far to go."
Now that he was walking, he was thinking and Syed, despite his shivering, could feel it bubbling up inside the older man. "I still can't believe it, Sy…that she could that…be so…so, indifferent! She could see how ill you are…and what! She doesn't do 'sick'…..!"
"Christian….please…"
"Okay, okay, Sy."
But he just couldn't keep it in. As they got to the familiar blue door of 15a Turpin Rd, Syed could feel the anger bubbling up in his lover again.
"I just can't believe that girl! I'm tellin you, Sy….if she loved you half as much as I do….."
The words hung in the chill of the late afternoon air.
Syed turned a weary face, to look up at him. But before either could say another word!
"SYED! Is that you! What is going on here?"
Christian drew in a deep breath and mentally prepared himself. "Zainab."
A/N: Sorry for the little deception there, at the end of the last chapter. Caught up now on the chapters, so hope you guys will be patient; especially with it coming up to Christmas. Just want to thank again, everyone who reads and reviews and hope you all continue to enjoy.