Chapter 46

Ray heaved a sigh and took a swallow of arrange juice, wishing it was wine. Kai's infuriating remarks had really got to him, but at the same time he knew that – in Kai's own way – he was actually trying to help. He wanted to make Ray feel better, to boost his poor battered confidence. It wasn't Kai's fault he'd got hold of the completely wrong end of the stick.

'You don't understand.' Ray made an effort to be patient. 'I'm not upset about Hiro, or about you. I'm perfectly happy, I promise.'

In reply, Kai glanced at the handkerchief screwed up in Ray's fist.

'I had dust in my eye!' Ray hurled it back at him. 'For pity's sake, Kai, I'm happy! Why can't you believe me?'

'Fine, fine.' He made calm-down movements with his hands.

A woman at an adjoining table whispered excitedly to her husband, 'Ooh, lovers' tiff.'

'He's not my lover.' Ray swivelled round, keen to put the couple straight on the matter. 'I do have a lover, but he's not with me tonight, and to tell you the truth, he's a damn sight better-looking than this one here.'

The couple looked startled.

'Ray, stop it.' Kai sounded reproachful instead of offended. 'No need to get carried away.'

'I'm not, I'm just stating a fact.' Ray's smile was triumphant. 'You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm a sad old loner with no one in his life, but actually you couldn't be more wrong. I do have a boyfriend, as it happens, and he's crazy about me, so there!'

Oh dear, a bit juvenile, the last bit, the kind of playground riposte that usually accompanied sticking your tongue out and going naa naa na-na naa.

Kai clearly thought so too.

'You don't have a boyfriend,' he said slowly, as if breaking this news to a particularly dim psychiatric patient.

'I do.'

'Ray-'

'I'm seeing Bryan Kutsenov.' Having blurted the words out without thinking, Ray spun round in horror to see if the couple at the next table had overheard. Phew, they'd gone, scuttled out ina hurry by the look of things, without even finishing their drinks.

Oh well, he'd started so he may as well finish. Anything, anything, Ray thought wildly, to wipe that irritating, pseudo-sympathetic look off Kai's face.

It did. Kai started to laugh instead.

'I am.' Heroically suppressing the urge to scream, Ray lowered his voice. 'I couldn't say anything before because obviously it's a bit of a delicate situation. But it's true, Kai, I swear it is. He came into the salon and kissed me in front of everyone. Then he took me out that night and the next day we went to Wimbledon. . .and every spare moment since then, we've been together. . . He's brilliant, and it isn't just a fling, either. He's serious!'

Oh we;;, a bit of embroidering the facts never did any harm, did it?

'Funny, I haven't seen any mention of this in the papers,' said Kai.

'I told you.' Ray spoke with pride. 'It's a delicate situation.'

'Yet you went to Wimbledon together, you say?'

'Nobody recognised him. He was in disguise.'

'Centre Court seats, I hope.' Kai's tone was dry. 'Nothing but the best for Bryan Kutsenov.'

'He could have got tickets, just like that.' Ray couldn't resist bragging. 'But we didn't. we queued up overnight. Slept in a tent on the pavement.' He gave Kai a knowing look. 'It's more fun that way.'

'I see.' Kai nodded thoughtfully. 'And did Daisy Schofield sleep in the tent with you?'

'She's been away in Australia. Coming back tonight actually. He's finishing with her.' Ray began to feel light-headed. It was such a relief, being able to tell someone at last. Like magic, all his doubts were swept away on a tide of utter certainty. Now that he'd confided in Kai it had to happen, it just had to.

Kai picked up his pint glass, stalling for time. He wanted a drink but knew the lager was lukewarm. Ray, his eyes bright and a triumphant smile on his face, was watching him, waiting for some reaction. How much of this story had Ray made up, for heaven's sake? Ten per cent fact and ninety per cent fantasy at a rough guess. He couldn't surely, have fabricated the whole thing.

'You still don't believe me, do you?' Ray demanded.

Kai wondered uncomfortably if Ray believed it himself. He looked down, watching the condensation from his glass drip on to the knee of his jeans.

'I'm just surprised Florence didn't mention it on the phone.'

'Florence doesn't know. I haven't told her.' Ray shrugged. 'I haven't told anyone.'

Highly likely. But something to be grateful for, Kai decided. At least Ray had the sense to keep his mad delusions to himself.

Kai sighed, still struggling to figure out which part of this bizarre story might conceivably be true. At a guess, Ray had had a one-night stand with Bryan Kutsenov and conjured up the rest of the fantasy to assuage his guilt.

He looked at Ray.

'Have you slept with him?'

'What do you think?' There was no hesitation; his smile was smug. 'Be honest, Kai. Given the chance, wouldn't you?'

So that was it, he had slept with Bryan Kutsenov. Kai looked away, wishing with all his heart he hadn't.

'And he's telling Daisy Schofield tonight that it's all over between them? He's giving her up for you?' Kai wondered if Ray actually believed this would happen. When he nodded Kai said, 'So we can expect a red-hot press release to be put out sometime tomorrow?'

In it up to his neck now, Ray shrugged and nodded again.

'Maybe, I don't know much about press releases.'

'You'd better learn,' Kai drawled, 'if you're planning on being Bryan Kutsenov's new boyfriend.' His tone was pitying. 'Are you sure he's going to be faithful to you?'

'Why are you being so horrible?' Ray accused him.

Humouring him hadn't worked. Kai decided to be blunt.

'I'm not being horrible. I just don't believe it's going to happen.'

If it did happen, Ray thought, he was definitely going to have to leave the country. Oh well, in for a penny, in for an awful lot of pounds.

'You know what? I think you might be ab tiny bit jealous.' Leaning forward, he patted the back of Kai's hand, mimicking the patronising concern he had shown earlier. 'Never mind, chin up, I know it isn't easy finding boyfriend but these things take time. One day it'll happen to you too.'

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Three rubbish skips were lined up in the road outside Takao's new flat, much to the horror of his well-to-do neighbours.

'You know you've thrown out a truly terrible bunch of carpets,' he told Max, 'when you dump them in a skip and two days later they're still there.'

'It feels like such a waste.' Max joined him at the window. 'Couldn't you donate them to some deserving cause?'

The skip looked like it was bulging with dead zebras. Takao winced.

'Where did you have in mind? Regent's Park Zoo?'

Turning back, leaning against the windowsill, Max surveyed the stripped room.

'Another week and this place will really come together. You won't recognise it. The last chap who lived here definitely won't recognise it.'

'Good,' said Takao. 'That's the general idea.'

The decorators, still in the process of stripping the wallpaper and sanding the wooden floors, had left hours earlier. The rolls of new paper, chosen by Takao and Max and delivered that afternoon, were stacked in a corner of the room along with a dozen cans of paint in assorted shades of sage-green, lavender and saxe-blue. Between them, choosing the colour scheme had been an effortless process. They shared the same tastes to an astounding degree. When Max had finished browsing through a foot-thick book of curtain samples and he had pointed at the exact swatch of silvery-green material that Takao had decided on himself.

'It's going to be great,' Max told him happily. 'All you have to find now are the rugs.'

'Chinese. I was going to look in Harrods on Sunday.' Takao paused. 'I don't suppose. . . ?'

'I'd love to,' said Max. 'Honestly, I'm enjoying every minute of this. I won't know what to do with myself when it's finished.'

Takao felt much the same way. Soon he was going to run out of legitimate reasons to invite Max round to his flat. He sighed inwardly, recalling the telephone call he had received last night from his sister. Tina, three years older than him and so blunt she made Ray sound diplomatic, lived in New Zealand and hadn't been back to Britain for over five years. For this reason, when she had demanded to know what the bloody hell he was doing renting a flat in snotty Holland Park, Takao had judged it safe to tell her.

Ten thousand miles, that was far enough.

Besides, if he didn't tell someone, he might actually explode.

'Okay, you want the truth? Because there's this guy I know, and he lives in Notting Hill, in the same house as my salon junior. And giving the junior a lift home from work gives me the chance to see the guy.'

Tina, predictably, snorted with laughter.

'And if you moved to Hampstead you wouldn't have been able to do that? Jesus, Takao, you're priceless. Spending an absolute fortune moving into a flat you don't even like. . .that's the maddest thing I ever heard. If you're so keen on this guy, wouldn't it be simpler to just ask him out on a date?'

Great idea, now why didn't I think of that? Smiling to himself, Takao shook his head.

'Can't do it.'

'Of course you can! Blimey, you've been out with, like, a million guys. You must know the routine by now.'

'It's not that straightforward.'

'Oh, I get it. You mean he's married. Takao, you plonker. Who needs that kind of grief?'

'He isn't married. Well, okay, technically he still is, but they're separated.' Takao paused. 'The thing is, he's pregnant.'

There, he'd done it at last. And what a relief to finally say it out aloud, after bottling it up for weeks.

'Jesus Christ!' shrieked Tina down the phone. 'You got him pregnant and his husband found out? No wonder he left him!'

'Tina, hang on a second –'

'And you aren't interested in actually marrying him yourself but you want to keep in touch for the sake of the baby. Oh, now it all begins to make sense. So you're going to be a dad,' she marvelled. 'Bloody hell, this is a turn-up for the books. You do realise it's going to cost you zillions in child support.'

'It's not my baby,' said Takao, when he was able to get a word in.

A long and expensive silence ensued. He'd never heard Tina at a loss for words before.

'Fuck a duck, Takao,' she groaned at last. 'So whose kid is it?'

'His husband's.'

'You're in love with some guy who's pregnant with somebody else's baby. Now I know you're mad.'

'Thanks.'

'What's his name?'

'Max.'

'And how does Max feel about this?' Tina's tone was cutting.

'He doesn't know.'

'So what are you going to do?'

What could he do? It was hardly the most normal situation in the world.

Frankly, it was bizarre.

'I don't know.'

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'Any more thoughts about the bedroom?'

'What?' Max's word brought Takao back to the present with a thud.

'Curtains or blinds, you haven't decided yet.' Max pushed his fringe out of his eyes. 'Come on, let's take another look.'

Without wanting to, Takao replayed in his mind the rest of last night's conversation with his sister.

'Drop him,' Tina had commanded. 'Drop him like a hot potato.'

'I can't.'

'A hot potato crawling with maggots.' He heard the urgency in her voice. 'Takao, we're talking major disaster here. For God's sake, get out while you still can, before anything happens.'

Too late. It already had. Takao led the way through to the master bedroom. What did Tina know, thousands of miles away in New Zealand? She had no idea.

Max was sitting on the end of his king-size bed, pushing his longish hair behind his ears and giving the two windows his undivided attention.

'I think blinds, you know.'

'You're fringe keeps getting in your eyes,' said Takao.

'Not those awful frilly blinds,' Max made frilly movements with his hands, 'like Scarlett O'Hara's knickers.'

'Why don't I cut your hair?'

Max was already busy flicking through a sample book. He found what he was looking for and held it up.

'Silver and beige, and keep them really plain. . .oh.' Belatedly, Takao's words registered and his hand flew guiltily to his fringe. 'My Dulux look, you mean? I meant to have a go at it last week but Ray borrowed my nail scissors to trim the flex on his hairdryer and –'

'I don't want to hear this.' Takao felt as he imagined a surgeon might feel, upon being told that a patient had decided to dig out his own appendix with a Stanley knife and a rusty spoon.

Spotting the shudder, Max pulled an apologetic face.

'Sorry, I'm not usually such a pleb.' He shrugged, embarrassed. 'Trying to economise, that's all.'

'Will you let me do it for you?' said Takao.

Max was overjoyed.

'I'm hardly likely to refuse an offer like that, am I?'

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In all his years of hairdressing, this was a first for Takao. As a rule, male clients fancied him like mad and flirted with him shamelessly. Less often, deciding that he liked the look of one of these clients, he would flirt back, take his phone number and possibly ask him out.

This, though, was a whole new experience, and it was making it hard to concentrate. For the first time since he had known Max, Takao was actually running his fingers through the other mans hair, touching his neck, resting his hands on those shoulders. . .

He could look and now he could touch but he certainly wasn't allowed to flirt. Max was six months pregnant with another man's child, Takao reminded himself. Max would be horrified if he knew how Takao felt about him.

'Cut loads,' Max was saying eagerly, making scissors of his fingers and showing Takao how much he wanted lopped off. 'Not a crew cut or anything, just long enough to style it.'

'Here you mean?' Takao running the blonde hair through his fingers out to a certain length. God, even that simple action gave him a charge. He paused for a second, feeling the warmth of Max's skin and breathing in the familiar light scent he wore. It would be so easy now, so easy, to bend and kiss the back of his neck.

'TAKAO KINOMIYA, WHERE ARE YOOOUU?'