CHAPTER 10
"So!" said Simon, sitting opposite Noah in the coffee shop, both of them with a large, foaming mug of coffee in front of them, both of them with a muffin in front of them Simon had taken a large bite from his; Noah had only tentatively nibbled his cake.
"So I'm gonna be really nosey now," said Simon, "and you don't have to answer if you don't want to," he smiled at Noah, "but on the first night, when you turned up on the doorstep, you said you had hacked into the police computer; how did you do that?"
Noah smiled back at him; he had expected the question, from one or other of them; he had been more surprised that it had take them so long to get around to asking. He kept the mask of his smile gently playing on his lips.
"It's just maths," he answered, "you could probably do it if you tried; it's maths, a bit of logic and a few tricks." His mind drifted, backwards in time, across miles of ocean; he had been much younger, not long in Australia, finding his way, needing money. He remembered the man who had taught him the tricks; it had been payment, of a kind; payment he had cashed more than once. Especially in France. Especially afterwards, when he needed to find Aaron; it was a payment he couldn't give back, a knowledge he couldn't un-know. But he had no intention of telling Simon any of that.
"You must be quite good at it," said Simon, wanting to know more, "to get through the Facebook privacy settings; to get into the police computers," he added, his voice emphasising his words.
"Facebook was...ridiculously easy," Noah admitted, blushing a little. "The police system took a little longer to get into, a couple of hours or so."
"Phew!" whistled Simon, impressed despite himself.
Noah shrugged apologetically. "It's not really something to be proud of though, is it," he said, the pictures of that man so clear in his head; his smile, his naked body. Computer hacking hadn't been all he had taught him during the few months they met; he had taught him how to survive. "But I needed..." his voice trailed away, his eyes looked anywhere but at Simon.
"And has it helped," asked Simon gently, "speaking to Aaron?"
Noah nodded. "When I heard Archie was dead... my mum phoned me... God!" The breath escaped him as he bit his lip, fixed his eyes somewhere on the ceiling, rigidly trying to force the tears not to fall. "I knew, even before she said a word; I'd been feeling strange, unsettled for hours. I was with someone... a client..." he remembered the moment so clearly. He wouldn't normally interrupt and answer the phone, but for once it was not switched to silent and the ringing tone was insistent, penetrating his consciousness, interrupting. He remembered stretching out his hand, remembered the cold dread of anticipation that filled him even before he touched it; the name that sighed into his mind like a ghost, already a ghost; Archie.
His client hadn't been pleased, her evening had not ended, but at least he had done enough to still get paid. He remembered the swirl of her coat as she flounced passed him as he showed her from the apartment; the lingering aroma of her expensive perfume in the room, on his body, that stayed even after she had gone and he had showered.
"When I got home... when the police told me how he died... I knew I had to find Aaron..." he paused again, shrugged but bit his lip. He was in danger of saying too much again, perhaps he had already said too much; it was another life, he didn't need to revisit it now.
"It must have been awful," said Simon sympathetically, "being so far away, hearing about it like that. Having all those miles to travel to get home."
Noah nodded; in truth he couldn't remember much about the long flight home; he'd swallowed a handful of pills, the journey passed in a haze. It was only when he got home that he found out the truth about how Archie died; then his resolve hardened, that a plan began to form in his mind, that he knew too, that he needed to talk to the man who had been with him; the young man who the police would not fully name for him; only Aaron.
Simon's phone began to ring. "Hey!" he said, answering it. "We're in the coffee shop just off the High Street... yeah no rush, we've not finished yet..." he glanced at each of their mugs, at Noah's half eaten cake. "Yeah we'll wait... see you in a bit." He clicked to end the call. "That was Jackson, he and Aaron will be here in a few minutes. Are you going to eat that cake?"
Noah shook his head; it had tasted wonderful, it had melted on his tongue like nectar but all he could think of was what it would become and that thought contaminated any pleasure the simple cake could give him.
Simon looked at him, trying to understand; he couldn't imagine what it must be like, dealing with the bags every day, but he had to eat too.
"Go halves on it with you," he asked hopefully.
"Okay," Noah nodded; he picked up a small knife and cut the remaining cake in two; not quite equal halves, carefully sliding the larger of the two pieces onto Simon's plate
Simon said nothing only looked at the other man. Noah shrugged apologetically, cutting the small piece of cake again before eating a tiny mouthful.
Despite trying not to eat the cake, Noah was glad the conversation had moved from computer hacking and how he felt talking to Aaron; the way words had been flowing from him recently, he might say more than he meant, more than was wise.
In a matter of minutes the door pushed open, admitting Aaron and Jackson; in seconds they had joined Simon and Noah at the table, sliding into the bench seats, Aaron beside Simon, Jackson beside Noah. Carefully Jackson pushed the carrier bag he clutched far under the table, out of view.
They ordered more coffee; it was comfortable to sit, in the warm, soaking up the atmosphere, watching the bustling shoppers bundled up against the cold hurrying past the windows.
"Have you heard from Robbie," Jackson asked.
"Had a text a while ago," replied Simon. "He said they had one more shop to go into then were heading home. They'll probably be there before us."
"We'll stay out a while longer then, shall we?" laughed Aaron, "let them get it all put away."
"That is, no doubt, one of your better ideas, Livesy," smirked Simon. "So we'll head to the pub before we go back."
"Good idea," said Jackson, "and we can say you led us astray."
Simon pulled a face at him. The banter bounced around the table and went with them to the pub, everyone's mood buoyant. When they thought they had left it long enough, they made their way back to the Vicarage.
"Finn! Stop it! Now get out of the kitchen unless you're gonna help properly!"
They heard Greg's exasperated voice even before they pushed open the back door.
"Oh thank goodness you're back!" exclaimed Finn as they came into the room. "I was only trying to help, putting things away!"
"You're not helping," laughed Greg, "you're getting in the way and I saw you trying to open that packet. Now get out all of you; let us get this done and then we'll find some lunch."
"Yes dear," said Finn in a mockingly camp voice, moving quickly as Greg made to chase him from the kitchen. "I know when I'm not wanted," he continued in an aggrieved tone, heading towards the sitting room.
"Out!" yelled Greg behind him, trying hard not to laugh.
Noah headed towards the stairs, "Just taking this up," he said, lifting the bag he was carrying.
"Yeah, I need to take this up too," said Jackson, indicating his own bag. He would have to have some time during the afternoon to sort it all out and he would have to catch the other guys to do their bit, but he had all afternoon and evening.
Jackson and Noah headed towards the stairs.
"I hope it's not making it too awkward... uncomfortable... for you," said Noah hesitantly, pausing as they reached the top of the first flight of stairs, "me being here... after everything... I really appreciate it."
Jackson shook his head. "Don't be daft; what they did... it was to all of us, in different ways. For Aaron and Archie... it was physical, but for us... we were hurt because of our love for them..."
Noah bit his lip, saying nothing; it had been his choice after all.
"...it's like ripples on a pond," Jackson continued. "Afterwards... God! ... it fucked with my head so much! I was horrible for a while, it just consumed me, I couldn't get over feeling guilty that Aaron had been on his own—which was silly, totally irrational—but it grew arms and legs in my mind." He paused, remembering. "I'm lucky," he said quietly, "I've got good friends." He stopped speaking again; he needed to breathe, collect himself before the memories he could feel knotting within him appeared as tears.
"Finn is amazing, you can always talk to him. As for you being here, we're all happy that you are; we're all kinda in this together really when you think about it, so we'd better just make the best of it, dump our stuff and get back downstairs and start Christmas properly," he finished briskly before he got too emotional.
They smiled tentatively at each other, smiles of encouragement, of understanding and acceptance; smiles that realised they didn't know everything, there were gaps, but that didn't matter; they were safe, they were among friends. As Jackson turned towards the door of the room he and Aaron shared, Noah moved to the smaller staircase that took him up another floor to his room.
Climbing the last, turning flight of steps, Noah slipped into his small room and closed the door behind him. Not that he thought any of the other men would follow him up, but he liked the warm and cosy, cocoon-like sensation the small, homely room gave him. He sat on the edge of the bed, undoing his heavy winter boots then pushing himself further back to sit comfortably cross-legged on the bed. He emptied the carrier bag in front of him, examining the contents, letting the multiple strands of fine leather thongs slide through his fingers, then picking up the small bag full of colourful beads. He didn't know if he could do it, if he remembered how, it had been a long time. He dropped the bag of beads back on to the bed and picked up two strands of leather separating them, then closed his eyes. For a moment he didn't move, just let the leather sit on his fingers, then he began, slowly twisting and knotting, his fingers remembering the moves his mind had forgotten. He opened his eyes, worked the leather for a minute or two more before stopping and unravelling it, satisfied. He would make them properly later, adding the beads; for now he tucked all the pieces back into their bags.
Finn and Aaron were still banished to the sitting room when Noah made his way back downstairs. There was no sign of Jackson but the smell of frying bacon was wafting through from the kitchen.
"I'm hoping that's lunch cooking for all of us," grinned Finn as Noah entered the room.
"Yeah, so long as you haven't pissed Greg off too badly," teased Aaron "and he's found an extreme form of revenge."
"No," said Finn confidently. "No way would he starve his man; he likes to keep my strength up!"
"Eugh! Too much information," laughed Aaron.
Noah moved to the seat he had made his own, the only single armchair in the room and curled himself into it, but he had hardly made himself comfortable in it when Simon stuck his head round the door.
"It's safe to come back now," he grinned, "you're forgiven," he added to Finn, laughing as Finn stuck his tongue out at him. "Where's Jackson?"
"Upstairs," replied Aaron, "I'll give him a shout."
They all made their way to the kitchen, to the source of the wonderful smell of cooked bacon, already made into sandwiches, waiting for them, piled high on a communal plate, allowing them to help themselves.
Tucking in hungrily, they devoured the tasty sandwiches, even Noah allowed himself to nibble slowly through two small squares.
"What's everyone doing this afternoon?" asked Greg as they finished their coffee, "because I can tell you, Robbie and I are banning you all from the kitchen."
"Oh what it is to be married to a domestic goddess," sighed Finn, melodramatically.
"Don't you have anything to do before the service tonight," grumbled Greg cheerfully, "keep you out of our hair for a while?"
"Actually I do have a few visits I need to do," admitted Finn, "a couple at the hospital and at least two in town.
"Well would you like to go and do them and give us peace?" said Greg, playfully shoving him in the direction of the door.
"How come you're picking on me all of sudden," teased Finn, his tone aggrieved, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Because no one else is as annoying as you," countered Greg cheerfully. "Now out!"
"A kiss before I go?" asked Finn, moving towards Greg hopefully.
Greg made a tiny noise of exasperation that he didn't mean and took a step to meet Finn, gasping, almost giggling as Finn pulled him roughly to him, capturing his mouth for a kiss that that cut short his laughter, that caught his breath, for a kiss that reached deep into their souls, where their tongues danced and fought and promised more.
"I'm going, I'm going," gasped Finn as he finally let Greg go, as they grinned at each other.
"I've got a few things to do this afternoon too," said Jackson. "D'you need a hand to clear up or anything first?"
"Nah, you're fine," replied Robbie, glancing at Greg for confirmation.
"Right, we'll get out of your way then," said Jackson, getting up and dragging Aaron with him.
They dispersed about the house; Aaron and Jackson went upstairs to their room as Jackson began to put together his idea for Noah's present. Aaron watched him for a few minutes; there was nothing really for him to do and he soon got bored. Making his excuses, he made his way back down to the kitchen, only going in quickly enough to lift the keys of the Triumph, not staying long enough to get in the way.
Grabbing a coat on the way our, he made his way over to the garage, unlocking the double doors. He stood for a moment admiring the car before climbing into it, starting the engine, listening to her purr before reversing her into the drive.