Dolphin-san: Hey once more. Since was deciding to be annoying with the login page and not load up properly, I have been able to write another chapter (chapter's 38, 39 and 40 went up together). Here's hoping you will like this.

Chapter 40

Three weeks later, Takao moved into his new flat. The next day, he gave his overjoyed salon junior a lift home from work.

'This is so brilliant,' Ray exclaimed when Takao informed him in his off-hand fashion that since he practically had to pass Ray's front door, they may as well make it a regular thing. 'No more fighting and getting squashed on the tube! And I'll be saving eight pounds a week on fares . . . golly, I'm going to be rich!'

That was a comfort, then. Every cloud . . . Takao thought drily. Ray was getting himself chauffeured to and from work and saving eight pounds a week. He, on the other hand, had leased a diabolically expensive flat in Holland Park with no swimming pool, no garden and truly cringe-making decor of the 1960's groovy-man-about-town variety. Even the neighbours were unfriendly, clearly regarding a long-haired celebrity hairdresser as an undesirable member of their exclusive enclave. Then again, maybe they were simply suspicious of anyone who would want to live in a flat with zebra-print fitted carpets, mirrored ceilings and leather-look walls.

And let's face it, Takao had to acknowledge, who wouldn't be?

But he had been compelled to rent the property anyway, for reasons so flimsy and embarrassing he couldn't admit them to a living soul.

'I thought you had your heart set on Hampstead.' Rifling through his bag, Ray offered Takao a liquorice allsort. 'What made you go for Holland Park instead?'

There was no way in the world he was going to tell Ray.

'I thought if I moved to Holland Park, I'd be able to give you a lift every morning. That way, you wouldn't be able to be late for work,' said Takao. 'And we wouldn't have to listen to any more of your bizarre excuses.'

Not true, of course, but close. Closer than Ray would ever know. Takao swung his car into Tredegar Gardens and pulled up outside Florence's house.

'You pretend to be a grumpy old stick,' Ray told him with a grin, 'but deep down you're all heart.'

Ray was gathering his belongings, squashing the packet of liquorice allsorts back into his backpack, juggling sunglasses, Coke can and a set of keys.

'How's Florence?' Takao kept his tone casual.

'Great! People keep complimenting her on her hair.'

Takao hesitated.

'I haven't seen her since the wedding.'

'Of course you haven't.' Ray frowned, concentrating on disentangling the cord of his sunglasses from his keyring. 'Bugger, how did I manage this?'

Never mind that, thought Takao, how do you manage to miss a hint the size of a JCB?

'Well,' Takao went on slightly desperately, 'I'm glad she's okay.'

Yay, done it! Triumphantly, Ray slung his glasses around his neck and waved his keys at Takao.

'Thanks for the lift, you're a star. I'd ask you in for a drink – Florence would love to see you – but I know you must be dying to get back to the new flat.'

Takao exhaled slowly.

Mission accomplished.

About time too.

'Of course I am,' he told Ray with a careless shrug. 'Still, the flat isn't going anywhere, is it? Twenty minutes won't hurt.'

Max was dozing on the sun-lounger in the garden, soaking up the late-afternoon rays. When he felt an insect tickling his nose, he batted it away idly without opening his eyes.

Then it happened again. Max looked up and saw Ray grinning down at him.

'Bzzz bzzz.' Ray waggled the blade of grass in his hand. 'Wake up, we've got company.'

'Who?'

'My new chauffeur.'

'Who?' As he sat up, Max felt the waistband of his swimming trunks cut into his hips. It was last years trunks, designed for an altogether less inflated figure.

Max was grateful for the security of knowing that Florence's back garden couldn't be overlooked.

'My new personal chauffeur,' Ray announced smugly. 'Takao.'

'What? Oh my God –'

'No need to panic, I'm pretty sure he's seen undressed men before.'

Oh yes, undressed men who weigh about as much as one of my kidneys, Max thought wildly.

'Go and get me towels, lots of towels!' he yelped.

'You're being silly, you look fine.' Ray glanced up at the house. 'Anyway, too late. He's here.'

Takao was wheeling Florence down the ramp. Max cringed and wondered if he could hide under the sun-lounger. His face burned; how could they all be so insensitive?

'Flap flap,' Ray teased. 'Anyone would think you had a big crush on Takao.'

'Towels.' Max glared as scarily as he knew how. Ridiculous; he didn't have any kind of crush on Takao. He just didn't want Takao to see him like this.

Across the lawn Takao had heard the hissed command and guessed the cause of Max's anguish in an instant.

'Won't be a sec,' he told Florence and headed back into the kitchen, returning moments later with an emerald-green towel he had spotted hanging over the back of one of the chairs.

Grateful for Takao's tact but still barely able to look at him, Max wrapped the towel around himself. Oh dear, it was a bit small but it was better than nothing. Though he would have preferred a beach towel. Or a king-size duvet. Or, best of all, a nice sturdy body bag complete with six-foot zip.

'Takao's moved into a new flat,' Florence explained, distributing bottles of Guinness. 'In Holland Park.'

Max's eyebrows went up. 'What was wrong with the house in Hampstead?'

Takao shrugged. Apart from the fact it was in Hampstead, there hadn't been a single thing wrong with it.

'I was too late. Someone else got there first.'

'Isn't that a shame? So he had to settle for this other place instead,' Ray crowed. 'And now I don't have to catch the tube any more,' he did a little dance for joy, 'because Takao's going to give me a lift into work.'

Florence patted Takao's arm.

'If you ask me, you should have stuck with Hampstead.' Her voice lowered. 'She sings, you know. In the mornings.'

Takao was beginning to wonder if he'd made a terrible mistake.

'Not in my car, he won't.'

'Still, it'll be nice, we'll see more of you,' Florence went on cheerfully.

Maybe not such a horrible mistake after all.

Just so long as he doesn't see more of me, Max thought ruefully, attempting to tug the flimsy cotton of the towel further down his legs.

'What's the new flat like, then?' Florence took a swig of Guinness. 'Done out all right?'

'Think Peter Stringfellow, twenty years ago,' said Takao. 'With knobs on.'

'Hah!' cackled Florence. 'A shag pad.'

Ray grinned. Max, still shockable, spluttered into his drink.

Takao said gravely, 'More like a shag palace.'

'Not your thing?'

'You could say that. Every time I open a cupboard I half expect a leftover bunny girl to come tumbling out.'

'I can help you pick out new stuff,' Ray exclaimed. 'Honestly, I'm brilliant at that. I should have become an interior designer.'

'Oh right, have my new wallpaper chosen by someone with green and blue hair. Great idea,' said Takao. He raised his eyebrows at Max. 'Help me out here, will you? Think of a way of saying no without hurting his feelings.'

'But I would be brilliant,' Ray protested. 'I would I would I would!'

'No,' Takao mimicked Ray's pleading tones. 'No no no.'

'He'll hire a professional designer,' Max explained soothingly. It was the kind of thing rich people did.

'I will not,' said Takao with a shudder. 'They always go miles over the top and you're never allowed to want anything normal.'

Ray, losing interest since he clearly wasn't going to be allowed to help, said, 'I'm starving. Anyone else for a crisp sandwich?'

As soon as he had disappeared into the kitchen, Takao sat forward and said, 'So how's he been with you?'

'Bright and cheerful on the outside, quiet on the inside.' Florence blew a stream of smoke rings. 'Like a Kunzle cake.'

Takao nodded. 'Same as at work.'

'He stays in every night,' said Max.

'Pretending everything's fine.' Florence stubbed out her cigarette. 'When what he should be doing is getting out there and having fun. That's what Ray really needs, of course. A new man to take his mind off the old one.'

The way Florence's lip curled at this reference to Hiro reminded Takao of something else that had been puzzling him.

'Why hasn't Kai shown him the wedding video yet? I asked Ray and he said he hadn't seen it.'

'He didn't want to,' Max explained. 'Kai brought it round here and Ray went out. We watched it,' he went on cheerfully. 'It was brilliant.'

'The question is, which of them couldn't Ray face?' Florence's tone was arch. 'The video, or Kai Hiwatari?'

Takao had finished his Guinness. He glanced at his watch.

'I'd better be off. The faster I clear the packing crates out of my sitting room, the sooner I can rip up the zebra-print carpet.' He glanced at Max. 'How are you at picking out what goes with what? I've spent the weekend up to my ears in colour charts and wallpaper samples. I could use a second opinion,' he said easily. 'So long as it isn't Ray's.'

Startled, Max said, 'I'm not an expert.'

'I told you, I don't want an expert. An expert would insist on magenta ceilings, turquoise marble-effect walls and rag-rolled festoon blinds with bloody bows on. All I want is something normal.' Takao shrugged. 'That won't give me a headache.'

Reassured, Max began to nod.

'Well, I can probably do normal. If you're –'

'There you go!' With an air of triumph, Ray clattered two plates of leaking sandwiches on to the table. 'Smokey bacon with barbeque sauce, roast chicken and mayonnaise, cheese and onion with ketchup.' He beamed. 'Eat them before they go soggy.'

'And he wonders why I don't want him to redecorate my flat,' said Takao. He rose to his feet and eyed Ray severely. 'Eight o'clock tomorrow morning. On the dot.'

Ray nodded, his mouth crammed with wonderfully crunchy sandwich. For some reason he was the only one eating. Honestly, some people have no sense of adventure.

'How about you?' Takao turned to Max. 'Six-ish, tomorrow evening?'

'Fine.'

Hey-up, thought Ray, secret assignations being arranged behind my back – what's this all about?

'That's discrimination,' he protested. 'How come he gets six-ish and I get on-the-dot?'

'Because Max's doing me a favour, and I'm doing you one.'

In a flash, Ray knew what the other favour was.

'Oh, that is so mean,' he wailed. 'You've asked Max to help you choose new stuff for your flat.'

'Perhaps we could both help,' suggested Max, embarrassed.

'No you bloody well could not.' Takao was firm. 'It's my flat and I'll ask who I want.'

'But –'

'No begging, no emotional blackmail,' he told Ray.

Rebelliously Ray muttered, 'Just acres and acres of magnolia vinyl emulsion.'

'Look, I know you're fed up at the moment,' Takao went on more kindly. 'You're bored and you want some fun. I just don't want you taking it out on my flat.'

Ray's shoulders sagged in defeat. Takao was right, of course – deep down, he knew they had wildly different tastes. It would be like Margaret Thatcher to sashay down the catwalk in a Vivienne Westwood basque.

Oh, but how long was he going to feel like this, hollow with misery and so lonely he could cry?

Wearily Ray reached for another sandwich. Soggy already, like his life. Fun, had Takao said?

The way things were going, he couldn't imagine ever having fun again.

Dolphin-san: Well, can any of you guess the real reason for Takao's choice of flat? And Max's reaction to Takao coming over . . . well, he obviously like him more than he's willing to admit to himself just now *laughs*.

Ja Ne.