The kiss became more urgent and Syed had to summon an ocean of will to struggle out of the passion. Opening his eyes, seeing Christian's, tightly closed, the look of total absorption on his face, he groaned and murmured,
"Christian…"
"Syed…" Christian responded huskily. The pressure of his embrace increased and Syed felt his erection pushing against his thigh, bulging beneath the fabric of his shorts.
"Christian. We can't."
Surfacing reluctantly, abandoning the delicious pleasure of running his tongue along Syed's top lip, Christian touched the tip of his nose onto Syed's and asked plaintively,
"Why not?"
"Aw, poor darling. Poor me too. However, I have reasons."
"Spill. They'd better be good." Christian grumbled, setting Syed's wrists free and balancing on his elbows, resting his chin on his hands and waiting to see if Syed's explanation passed muster.
"Reason one..." Syed stretched his fingers, feeling the blood return with a tingle. "We are in a public place in the middle of the day. If anyone sees us, we will be arrested and probably deported for lewd frolicking and I, for one, don't fancy trolling back to Walford with our tails between our legs."
"Aargh, don't mention things between our legs! There's no one about. I checked. Only a few surfers and a couple of women working out and…"
"Knowing our luck, the imminent arrival of a group of evangelists on a day trip. Reason two, I am so embedded in this beach, I'll need digging out."
Grumbling, Christian rolled from on top of him and lay by his side.
"I had something I could have used as a handy fork."
"Ha ha! I'm regretting being so sensible now. I would have paid to see that!"
"Too late!" Christian tweaked Syed's ear. "Though I'm sure it would only take a minute to get it back."
"Down boy. Reason three; all the sand you shoved in my pants is chafing my knob."
"Aw! Sorry!" Christian gently laid his hand over Syed's crotch, slowly undoing his fly and grinned wickedly. "Let me suck it off."
Laughing, Syed batted at Christian's arm.
"Incorrigible. Reason four; doesn't Jane want to speak to us?"
The reminder struck Christian like a thorough dousing with ice-cold water and he sighed despondently.
"Yeah. You're right, Mister Sensible." Christian scrambled to his feet and retrieved his sunglasses and Moosey, waiting while Syed zipped up his jeans and fumbled with his shirt, tucking it in messily. Deciding not to bother with putting his socks back on, he rolled them into a ball and stuffed them in his pockets. Hastily cramming his feet into his boots, he winced as grains of sand pricked irritatingly at the soft skin between his toes.
"I need new clothes." Syed held out his hand and Christian grabbed it, yanking him upright and swinging his arm around his shoulders.
"I've been saying that for years."
"Fuck off, granddad jumper."
"Up yours, jim jams. Now we've got money, we can go shopping!" Christian beamed with glee at the prospect and began to propel Syed briskly towards the house.
"We don't know how much we've got yet, I haven't checked. It might have been a dead cheap one from…" Attempting and failing to think of a discount outlet, Syed invented one, "…House of Telly."
Christian laughed, quickly turning it into a snort.
"Where? As if! That boy doesn't do cheap."
They arrived at the iron gates set in the wall and Syed stopped.
"I'd like to send some to mum and dad." He kept his gaze on Christian's face as he made the suggestion, worriedly searching for any sign that he might resent the prospect. Instantly recognising Syed's need for approbation, Christian smiled gently, mentally bidding a sad farewell to a trip to Bai Harbour and the prospect of strolling in the sunshine, weighed down with armfuls of stylish designer carrier bags.
"Good idea."
Syed breathed out with relief and flipped down the latch on the gates, instantly dislodging flakes of rust that flecked his fingers.
"Maybe, if you like, we could spend a night in one of those swanky art deco hotels."
"Anywhere with a bed will do me just fine."
"And me."
Impatient at Syed's thwarted battle to open the gates, Christian manfully gave them a forceful shove, expecting them to swing wide. He pouted ruefully when they remained firmly shut, his ego withering, pulling a disgruntled face while Syed tittered. He pointed towards the windows of the sunroom, where Jane stood waving at them to abandon the attempt and go round.
"See. Obviously they've been welded shut."
Syed returned Jane's wave.
"I wonder what she wants to talk to us about. Do you think we're going to be told off?"
"You are. Castigated." Christian teased. "For breaking the eggs and trashing the lovely sofa."
"Castrated? Nooo! Not that! Anyway, you started on the sofa. It was me that stopped you from setting it on fire. That and the lack of matches."
Bickering cheerfully, they strolled to the front of the house and let themselves in. Navigating their way in single file through the crammed sitting room, Christian remembering to duck under the fan before Syed's nervous warning hiss, they joined Jane in the kitchen.
While a mortified Syed noticed the clean worktop, further distracted by the jug of batter mixture that had replaced the broken eggs, Jane narrowed her eyes at Christian, a small signal to check that everything was okay. Christian gave her the thumbs up and stroked the nape of Syed's neck, delectably warm from the sun, reassuring him.
"I thought we could have pancakes." Jane said and Syed tried not to be paranoid and defensive, convincing himself that she didn't sound accusatory.
"I'll make them!" He offered.
He opened a cupboard, confident it would contain a frying pan, because it was in the same position as where he and Christian had kept theirs in the flat. The unsuspected array of cleaning products within, some of them in industrial size bottles, filled to the brim with blue liquid, made him nauseous, a horrible association that was only partly soothed by the presence of an orange bucket. He slammed the door shut quickly.
"Not there then."
"Here." Jane reached above him and handed down a pan. "Though there's no need, Christian can do it."
"Can Christian? Why me?" Christian protested, positioning Moosey on top of the microwave. "Sy makes the best pancakes. I'll clear up the devastation afterwards and scrape the ceiling. What was it you wanted to discuss?"
Struggling with a pack of prepared salad, Jane seemed reluctant to say. Wordlessly, Christian took it from her, ripped the cellophane with his teeth and deposited the contents into a bowl.
"Jane?"
She brushed nervously at her blonde hair.
"Well the good news is, I spoke to Esther and I'm moving into her spare room, so you two can have a proper bed."
Pausing in mid pour, the yellow batter pooling and sizzling on the heat, Syed cheered.
"Hurrah!"
"Rah indeed." Christian agreed. "Is that it?"
"No. Mum's doctor says she's improving and we should start trying to get her mobile."
"This is all good news." Confused, Christian frowned. "You said it was important. I mean, obviously it is, but I was expecting something awful…"
Slumping onto a chair at the small pine table, Jane watched Syed flip a pancake into the air and catch it expertly.
"You're going to think it is. I need to go home. Next week."