Christian's birthday.
Taken a bit of artistic licence in this chapter; was never too sure how that whole thing worked with Bushra phoning Christian 'late last night' so that he could drunkenly tell her Zainab would sing at her party. Why would anyone phone a home or mobile number late at night with a business question that could wait until the next day? And why phone Christian directly and not Zainab? For the purposes of this story, I've decided that she rang the unit late at night, intending to leave a message on the answerphone, and a drunk Christian had wandered in there after his birthday drinks for some unknown reason…
"Behave." With a final word to a suspiciously innocent-looking Lucy, Christian and James left the house via the back door and paused on Market Street.
"Where shall we go then?" said James cheerfully, shoving his hands in his back pockets and looking up and down the empty marketplace with interest.
"Um…" Christian ran his hand over the back of his head. "…dunno. There's the local there, or there's an okay club round the corner…my best mate's daughter's dad owns it."
James looked confused. "Your best mate's daughter's dad? So…her ex, then?"
"Sort of. Not exactly. He's her sister's fella actually." James stared at him and Christian laughed and threw an affectionate arm around his friend's shoulder. "It's complicated."
James rolled his eyes. "Isn't it always? Well, it's your birthday, what's your choice?…Christian?"
"Hmm?" Christian realised he hadn't heard a word James had said, his attention caught by two figures at the end of the road. Janine was standing chatting to Syed - or flirting might be nearer the mark, judging by her body language as she leaned on the handle of her suitcase. A brief smile flashed across his face as he imagined the Masoods' eldest son bringing Janine Butcher home for tea as a prospective daughter-in-law. He'd pay anything to see the look on Zainab's face...
He couldn't figure Syed out. It shouldn't have bothered him the way it was starting to, but there was a faint air of mystery that intrigued him around the slim figure stood with arms folded, giving every impression of listening intently to Janine. Jane had filled him in on all the gossip. The black sheep of the family, estranged for years, no doubt got up to all sorts while he was up north; a smooth-talker, a flirt and a chancer...yet when you held that image in your mind, it didn't seem to match the reserved young man who bantered easily with Christian in the kitchen, apple of his mother's eye and devout Muslim boy.
Christian was used to being able to read people easily. As he'd told Jane once, he'd had the measure of Ian within five minutes of their first meeting. But there was something hard to read about Syed Masood; like seeing something out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look it isn't there.
A couple of hundred yards away, Syed must have felt Christian's eyes on him as he turned his head to stare. Their gazes met for a moment, but Syed turned quickly back to Janine. Something twisted in Christian's gut. There had been something in the expression on Syed's face that he didn't like the look of. Without really wanting to, he remembered again an incident in the unit a couple of days ago that he had been trying to put to the back of his mind. He had been chatting to Syed about something and had clapped a friendly hand on the younger man's shoulder as he passed; and Syed had twisted away, jumping out of arm's reach as though Christian's hand had burned him. Syed had tried to dismiss it, mumbling an apology and finding an excuse to leave the kitchen, and had been perfectly normal on his return and ever since. But Christian couldn't help being slightly bothered by it at the time, and clearly the memory had been lurking near the surface of his mind.
"Where do you want to go?" James repeated patiently. "This is your gaff." Clearly realising Christian's attention was elsewhere, James turned to look towards the end of the street. "Do you know them?"
Christian turned his attention back to the man in front of him, trying to shake off the feeling Syed's look had given him. "Sort of. I mean, yeah - that's Syed, he works with me. His parents own the other half of Masala Queen. And that's Janine, she's -" He paused, trying to think of the right word for Janine Butcher. "-she lives on the Square."
"Why don't you ask them to join us?" said James chirpily. As Christian hesitated, he rolled his eyes. "Come on, old man, it's your birthday! Let's do some celebrating, yeah?" He grinned and set off towards the end of the road, leaving Christian no choice but to follow him, do the introductions and invite them for a drink.
But he did so cheerfully, having regained his usual humour. They were an odd choice of drinking partners, a devout Muslim and a woman hated by half the community (including Christian's own family), but Christian couldn't help but have a grudging respect for Janine and he rather liked Syed. They had fallen into an easy friendship in recent weeks which Christian was getting used to; which was probably why the memory of that odd expression was lingering. He shrugged it off though, as he always did, looping an easy arm around James' shoulders as they walked and deliberately not looking at Syed to see if he reacted.
R&R was half-empty when they got there, unsurprisingly for the time of night. Christian surveyed the deserted dance floor with an odd feeling of disquiet; he'd been in clubs early on in the evening plenty of times, of course, usually getting a good spot to stand by the bar and survey the incoming talent, secure in the knowledge that he stood a good chance of getting the fittest guy in the club. Or was that true any more? When was the last time he'd gone out on the pull and come home with the best-looking guy there? It wasn't this month, he didn't think. And if he was honest with himself, did it no longer hold quite the thrill it used to?
"It's still early," he said to James, feeling some sort of need to defend Roxy's club even if it was no longer hers - and even though she had completely forgotten his birthday, blowing off his text with the excuse of being too tired and having imposed on Peggy for babysitting duties once too often recently.
James grinned at him. "Will you stop moaning? Get a few shots in you and you won't care a bit. Right then, what are we having?"
"Vodka for me, please, no ice," Janine shouted to be heard over the thumping music, leaning back on the bar and idly scanning the club.
"Syed?"
Syed started, as though he'd been thinking about something else, and looked confused for a moment before relaxing and smiling. "Orange juice, please." James stared at him and Syed shrugged, unembarrassed. He'd probably have been in this situation many times before, Christian realised, and for the first time he wondered what that must be like; to go out as one of the crowd but be apart from them in that way. "I don't drink," Syed explained.
"Really? Why not?" said James, sounding curious rather than confrontational, but Christian still felt the need to nudge him and hiss, "James!" James looked back at him in surprise.
Janine laughed and placed a hand on Syed's shoulder, smiling up at him. "Because he's a good Muslim boy, aren't you, Syed? Mummy would be so proud."
Her mocking didn't seem to bother him. "Fraid so."
"Works for me," said James. "You can help carry us all home when we're too drunk to see straight."
"That is my role in life," said Syed, still smiling. His eyes met Christian's briefly as he glanced around; but he broke the contact immediately, looking quickly away as though he'd seen something he didn't want to. Christian knew he was staring hard at him - perhaps it had made the younger man uncomfortable - but that flash of anger burned briefly in his stomach again.
James moved further down the bar to try and catch the barman's eye and Janine followed him, leaning over his shoulder to say something as they both laughed. Christian suddenly found himself alone with an unreadable Syed.
"So. You and Janine then," said Christian in lieu of anything else to say. "Can't wait to see Zainab's face when she's asked to plan that wedding." He laughed as Syed rolled his eyes; but that was his only subdued reaction. Does he ever react to anything? wondered Christian. All these weeks working together in the unit; always polite, always charming, but giving nothing of himself away at all. What was the Masoods' devout eldest son doing being friends with Janine Butcher?
"We're just mates."
"Does Janine know that? I think I've seen that look in her eyes before, I'd run if I were you..."
"I think I've been pretty clear," said Syed, still with that quiet smile. It was beginning to get frustrating. "What about you and, um..." He waved a hand at the bar. "James."
Was he imagining the look in his eyes? It seemed like a friendly enough casual question. "Just mates and all." Was that a look of relief, that he wouldn't have to see them touching each other, behaving like a couple? "Good mates though, known each other for years."
Syed nodded. For a moment they looked at each other, not sure what to say next; but then James and Janine returned with drinks and the mood changed back to noise and laughter and birthday celebrations.
"I definitely would!" cried Janine an hour or two later, James having vanished some time previously in search of the R&R loos.
"Shut up, he's just a mate," said Christian, nudging her arm indulgently but with half an eye on Syed. Was he looking uncomfortable at the conversation? Christian wanted more than anything to be imagining the whole thing. Perhaps Syed was just out of sorts at being the only sober party in a group of drunken loons. But there was something not right here, and he had seen those kind of looks before; someone happy to chat to him, be his friend at arm's length, but disgust in their eyes at any reference to the idea of what he might get up to in the privacy of his own home.
What was almost bothering him more was that he couldn't put his finger on why it was bothering him so much. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to it, even from people he liked and respected. He had learnt to shrug it off over the years, be proud of who he was and fuck them if they had a problem with it. But Syed in particular looking at him like that made him feel a burning anger he couldn't quite justify to himself.
"So?" said Janine with a wicked grin. "It's your birthday."
"Maybe it's his as well." It wasn't such a bad idea at that, if partly fueled by the alcohol burning through his veins. James was cute and a good mate, and would probably be a good shag at that. They'd never gone there before, but they'd been close to it once or twice. Maybe tonight was the night?
He grinned and started dancing with Janine, who squealed in delight.
"I knew the tequila was a bad idea." James had returned.
Christian pulled him into the dance with a laugh. One arm around his neck, he planted a kiss on James' cheek before glancing over to Syed before he could stop himself. Still no real reaction, but Syed was staring down at the drink in his hand, looking as though he wished he were anywhere else but here. Why doesn't he just leave? thought Christian with another flash of anger. Why stand there, sober and silent, nursing his orange juice, if we offend him so much?
"You okay, mate?" said James to Syed, having clearly also noticed the silent spectre at the feast. "Want another drink?"
"No, you're all right," said Syed. "Think I might head home actually."
Janine and James both began to protest - genuinely, it looked like in Janine's case - and Christian joined in even if his heart wasn't really in it.
Syed waved off the protests. "Ought to get home before Mum sends out a search party. Besides, some of us have to work tomorrow."
Christian groaned. "Oh god, don't remind me. I swear, your Mum gets a hundred times shriller on the days I'm hungover."
"I'll tell her you said that," said Syed with a grin as both James and Janine laughed. "Um, happy birthday," he added to Christian. "See you tomorrow. Bye guys." With an awkward wave, he was gone.
Christian, never one to dwell on things, turned his attention back to the warm body pressed into his as they moved to the music. Why waste time worrying about things he couldn't change?
"I should phone Ed," James slurred as they wove their way along Market Street. "Tell him I love him."
This penetrated through the warm haze of alcohol pleasantly fogging up Christian's brain and he stopped walking. It took a moment for James to notice. "Ed?"
James turned back to look at him. "Ed! I told you about Ed. I didn't tell you about Ed?"
"No."
James walked back, retrieving his phone out of his pocket with some difficulty as he went. "There you go. Ed. Been together about 18 months now."
Eighteen months? Christian tried to focus on the ordinary-looking bloke in the picture on James' phone with some annoyance. How did he not know about this?
"He's lovely, isn't he?" said James with fondness in his voice, and Christian bit back the automatic sarcastic response, opting for a non-committal 'hmm' instead. James didn't seem to notice.
"You not got anyone special in your life, Chris?" James looked at him with concern. "I worry about you, you know."
"Don't," said Christian shortly. "I'm fine."
"You're not getting any younger."
"Oh, thank you!" Christian stared at his friend in disbelief - he'd forgotten alcohol had this effect on James, like it was his mission to tell everyone the blunt truth whether they liked it or not.
"I'm serious. The field's getting narrower. Another birthday ticked by and nothing to show for it…" James waved the photo of Ed again to emphasise his words, and Christian felt his temper flare.
"Well, thank you for your oh-so-touching concern, mate, but I can think of better pictures to have on my phone-" He reached into his pocket for his phone, intending to demonstrate the point with his wallpaper of a topless Jake Gyllenhaal, but his searching hands came up empty. He frowned. "Where's my phone?"
"Dunno," said James unhelpfully. "Did you have it when you came out?"
"Well, that was twenty years ago so it's unlikely…" muttered Christian, removing his keys from one pocket and patting all sides of his jeans again, just in case.
James rolled his eyes. "Funny."
Light dawned and Christian let out a groan. "I left it in Masala Queen."
"There you go then, you can get it in the morning," said James with a shrug. "Thought we were going for a drink back at yours?"
Christian stared at his friend for a moment, trying to make up his mind. If James came back to his, would he be subjected to another hour about how old he was getting and how few fish there were left in the sea? Suddenly feeling tired and old, and still reeling from the revelation James had apparently been in a committed relationship for eighteen months, for fuck's sake…he shook his head.
"Do you know what, mate, let's just leave it. I'm going to go to the office and get my phone. I'll see you around sometime, yeah?"
James looked taken aback, but leaned forward, arms outstretched for a hug anyway; and after a moment's hesitation, Christian gave him one. They said their goodbyes and Christian headed back along Market Street in the direction of the Masala Queen unit.
With the exaggerated care of the moderately pissed, Christian managed to get the door to the unit open before pausing in mild surprise. It looked like someone had left a lamp on in the office, a warm pool of light in the darkened space. Clinging to the bannister a little more forcefully than needed, he crept his way down the stairs, before pausing again at what sounded like a muffled sob.
"Hello?" he called out as he continued down the stairs. The sound echoed oddly in the dark hallway. "Anyone there?"
There was no response as he walked into the office just in time to see Syed stand up from the sofa, wiping an angry hand across his eyes a second too late to hide the tears.
"What are you doing here?" he barked, a tad more aggressive than necessary and Christian felt his own hackles rise in response.
"Left my phone here," said Christian, pointing and walking over to where it was lying innocently on the desk. "What are you doing here? Thought you were going home?"
Syed swallowed, looking awkward. "I was. But I just...needed a minute." He attempted a smile that didn't quite convince and waved a hand. "It can be a bit overwhelming in that house sometimes."
Christian looked at him for a moment, sympathy creeping back in and cooling down the righteous anger. It was bad enough working with Zainab, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to live with the woman. "Are you okay?" he asked, the words coming out less sympathetically than intended.
"I'm fine," said Syed, the mask back in place as he smiled that unreadable smile. If Christian hadn't already seen the tears, he might almost have believed it. And for some reason - probably the tequila - he couldn't quite shake that knot of self-righteous anger from his gut. What did Syed have to be crying about? He had youth on his side, good looks; his family, the family business, a mother who cared enough to throw beautiful girls in his direction rather than one whose rare phone calls from the other side of the world still contained that faint note of disapproval...
There was an awkward pause for a moment as they looked at each other. Christian knew he was intruding, knew that he should just pick up his phone and go, but something was stopping him. Again, there was that feeling he had experienced in the club; there was something else going on here, and if he pushed hard enough he could get to the bottom of the mystery that was Syed Masood...but what if he didn't like what he found? That disapproving look still lingered in his mind. Be careful what you wish for...
"You've got your phone," said Syed quietly.
Christian nodded, picking it up from the desk and looking at it before looking back at Syed. "You know, you could have stayed out with us tonight," he blurted out, unable to stop himself scratching at that itch. "If you didn't want to go home. We were having fun, weren't we?...Weren't we?" he repeated as Syed failed to answer.
"Yeah, of course. But I didn't want to intrude," said Syed. "Looked like you and your friend had some catching up to do."
"Janine was there too. You were hardly intruding. Don't have a problem with James, do you?" The feeble attempt at a lighthearted tone couldn't possibly have fooled Syed for a second; but that mask stayed in place, no reaction.
"Of course not. James is fine. Great."
Christian nodded slowly. "So is it me then? You have a problem with me?"
Syed scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."
"See, I'm not so sure I am being ridiculous. I thought we were mates, but I'm starting to wonder if I've done something to offend you."
They had both moved while the conversation was taking place, Syed edging further towards the door; and almost without thinking, Christian repositioned himself so that he was blocking Syed's exit from the room.
"You've not done anything," said Syed quietly, his eyes flicking from side to side, never meeting Christian's, as though he were searching for an escape route. "We're fine. I'm going home, I'll talk to you in the morning when you're sober..."
"I'm not that drunk," said Christian. "Sober enough to know when there's something else going on here. Cos if you did have some kind of problem with me, you'd tell me to my face, yeah? I'd rather know than have you pretending to be my mate and bottling up how you really feel about me-"
Finally, a reaction! But Christian's triumph only lasted a split-second. Something had flashed across Syed's eyes there, but it looked wrong, not what he was expecting.
"I don't have a problem with you," Syed croaked out, his voice sounding hoarse. "Honestly. You can live your life however you want."
"What the hell does that mean?" snapped Christian in frustration. Why had there been the slightest of stresses on the 'you' in 'you can live your life...'?
"Nothing. Look, I'm going home." Syed moved to try and dart around Christian, heading for the door, but Christian blocked his path, holding out an arm to stop him.
"No, you'll stay here and tell me exactly what you meant by that-" he began, one hand on Syed's chest to hold him back.
But then he saw it.
The mask finally slipped. Just for a moment, so quick he could almost think he imagined it; but then the movement was repeated, slower this time. Syed's eyes dropped down to his lips. Such a tiny thing, but with such earth-shattering consequences Christian felt his head swim.
It was as though the heavens had opened and a booming voice had shouted down the truth. Syed didn't have a problem with him. Syed wanted him. And in the flood of realisations that flashed across his mind in that split-second, the biggest hit Christian with a force that could have knocked him over. He wanted him back. Dear god, did he want that beautiful man standing in front of him, dark chocolate eyes flickering back and forth like he was trying to read the meaning of life in Christian's face. Christian was almost dizzy with the sudden twin rush of shock and desire.
For a moment it seemed like the earth stood still as they stared at each other. Christian almost wanted to laugh, though he suspected it wouldn't be the best move. He didn't know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to yank Syed into his arms and kiss the life out of him; but some sixth sense was telling him to hold back.
Slowly, inch by inch, Syed leaned towards him; and Christian stayed where he was, swallowing to work some saliva into his suddenly dry mouth. Then Syed's lips were on his and he opened his mouth to receive the kiss.
Oh, yes.