Dolphin-san: Hello there, good people. Here is the next instalment of this little fic for you all to enjoy.

Chapter 29

When Max arrived back from the shops, he found an impromptu champagne-and-bagels party in full swing in Florence's sitting room. Bev was there, and so was Takao Kinomiya, whom of course he recognised but hadn't met before.

'Come on, have a drink, one little glass won't hurt,' Ray urged, pouring him one and proudly showing off his new top. 'What d'you think, isn't it great? Bev gave it to me!' He did an arms-up shimmy followed by a twirl, spilling a fair amount of Moet on the way round.

Max admired the top, which was black, stretchy and semi-transparent, with strategically positioned red satin butterflies appliquéd across the chest.

'It's very you,' he told Ray, deeply envious of his slim figure.

'Flighty,' Florence crowed, 'and a bit tight.'

Ray waved his glass happily.

'I prefer sexy,' he declared, 'and exotic.'

The television was on in the corner. Florence was busy zapping through the channels in search of a weather forecast.

'I still say you should take a jacket, they were predicting thunderstorms for this afternoon. Hang on, I'll get it on Ceefax –'

'Ooh, look, don't turn over!' Ray let out a yelp of excitement. 'It's Bryan!'

The Canadian Gran Prix was due to take place in Montreal in a few hours, and an informal pre-race interview with Bryan Kutsenov, the great British hope, was being shown. Seeing as it was Ray's birthday, everyone turned to watch.

'He's so gorgeous,' sighed Ray. Hastily, he added, 'Not that I fancy him, of course.'

'Not much,' said Bev with a grin.

'So the very best of luck, Bryan, for this afternoons race,' concluded the jovial motor-racing commentator, 'from your millions of British fans . . .'

'Oh, shame.' Bev patted Ray's arm. 'And you thought you were the only one.'

'. . . drive safely . . .'

'Try not to get killed,' said Ray. 'Honestly, can you believe what Daisy Schofield said last week?' He shook his head in disgust. 'I still can't get over that.'

'Total bitch,' Bev agreed as the commentator wound up the interview.

'The really irritating thing is, I was sure she wouldn't leave me a tip. And she did,' Ray marvelled.

Bev winked at Max.

'What, like, "Don't get too fond of your racing driver boyfriend in case he dies"?'



'Better than that,' said Ray, 'she gave me a tenner.'

The mention of money reminded Max that in his backpack was the card and present he had bought this morning for Ray. It wasn't much – he couldn't afford a great deal – but he hopped Ray would like the stained-glass photo frame.

Backpack, backpack – there it was, where he had left it, on the table over by the window.

'Looking for something?' Takao had intercepted his gaze, but Max was already levering himself upright.

One casual glance out of the window was all it took to suck the air from his lungs and send his mind reeling with shock.

Outside, emerging from his car in the street below, was Hiro.

Okay, thought Max, don't faint, keep calm, sit back down again before you fall and think this through.

Oh, but he was here, he'd come to see him! And when your ex-husband arrived unexpectedly on your doorstep clutching a bunch of flowers the size of a Christmas tree, it could only mean one thing . . .

I need more time, I need more time, thought Max, dimly aware that Takao Kinomiya was watching him slowly retrace his steps, empty-handed. But could this really be happening? Had Hiro somehow tracked him down – well, of course he had, though Bruce and Verity, no doubt – and come to beg his forgiveness? Did this mean he'd changed his mind about the baby as well?

Oh God, this was all so confusing, he could barely think and walk at the same time. Every step was like trying to wade through a field of his mother's bread sauce.



'Are you alright?' Takao said quietly, ducking his head as Bev swished past with a brimming glass in one hand and one of Florence's cocktail cigarettes in the other. Bev had been known to accidentally set fire to things when she was allowed custody of a cigarette.

Am I alright? wondered Max.

'Ha!' Sparks showered from the end of Bev's Sobranie as she brushed it recklessly past Florence's heavy brocade curtains. 'Speaking of boyfriends, guess who's downstairs?'

Ray, through a mouthful of chewy bagel, said, 'Who?'

'Hiro, you dipstick! Just as well you made your big confession earlier – hey, this is brilliant, he can come with us now that he's here! He can, can't he, Takao? Hiro can come along to lunch?'

Max's world was turning crazily on it's axis. He didn't understand what was going on, but he'd experienced the same feeling once before, on the Big Dipper at Blackpool.

Florence's attention had been on her curtains, whose health was in danger of being seriously damaged by Bev's dramatic way with a cigarette. Now, her head swivelled round as she realised that Takao had leapt from his chair and was lifting Max on to the sofa.

Amazed, Florence said, 'Max? What's happening?'

'Just lie back and breath slowly,' Takao instructed Max. 'Is it the baby? Shall I phone for an ambulance?'

Oh no, not a miscarriage, Ray prayed, not on my birthday. And please don't make it all my fault because I forced Max to have that glass of champagne.

Swallowing his bagel at last, he gazed in horror at the scene being played out before him. All the colour had drained from Max's face and he was clutching Takao's hand. Takao was down on one 

knee – for all the world like Hardy at Nelson's deathbed – was taking Max's pulse and exchanging serious-looking glances with Florence.

The doorbell rang.

Max visibly flinched.

'I'll call an ambulance,' Florence decided, reaching for the phone.

Max blurted out, 'No.'

'Where does it hurt?' demanded Takao.

'I'm okay, I'm okay.' Max brushed Takao's hand away from his wrist and tried to sit up, his gaze fixing on Ray. 'Look, I'm really sorry about this, but is that your boyfriend out there?'

As he spoke, the doorbell shrilled again.

Mystified, Ray said, 'Who, Hiro? Of course he's my boyfriend!'

'Ah. Pass me that glass, would you?' Puffing his hair out of his eyes, Max nodded at Takao. 'It's okay, I don't need an ambulance. Just a drink. You could probably do with another one as well.' He returned his attention to Ray. 'You see, I'm Hiro's husband.'

All eyes were now on Ray, who looked astonished. Fancy making a silly mistake like that, jumping to conclusions and giving everyone a fright.

'Don't be daft. No, no, it's a coincidence, that's all,' he explained to Max, his tone reassuring. 'My Hiro isn't married.'



Max didn't breath a sigh of relief.

He said steadily, 'Is his name Hiro Granger?'

'Oh, shit,' Bev gasped.

It was Ray's turn to sit down, on a pile of bagels, with a bump.

Dolphin-san: squeals Oh, the two have finally found out! What's going to happen? I'm hoping to have the next chapter up soon, so you might not have to wait that long to find out . . .

Ja ne.