Chapter 47

Takao and Max looked at each other in the mirror; the spell was well and truly broken. In the street outside, someone was yelling at the top of their voice and they both recognised who that voice belonged to.

Wearily, Takao went to the window and looked out. Fifty yards further up the road, Ray spotted him and waved.

'Honestly,' Ray exclaimed when Takao finally let him in, 'grumpy neighbours you've got around here. You should have seen the looks they gave me when I called out your name. I mean, I remembered the name of the road but I didn't know what the number of your flat was.' He shrugged. 'How else was I supposed to find out where you lived?'

Another boost to his popularity, thought Takao. Zebra-print carpets and friends with disturbingly blue hair turning up to breach the peace and more than likely mug the first wealthy resident they came across.

'You were pretty loud,' he pointed out.

'Well, if I'd whispered, you wouldn't have heard me. So this is it, is it?' Ray darted past him, gazing around with bright-eyed interest. 'I saw the dead animals in the skip outside. Hmm, wouldn't have thought you'd go for a flat like this.'

'It'll be fine when it's finished.' Takao's tone was curt. 'What are you doing here anyway?'

'Just thought I'd pop in.' Ray gave him a playful look. 'Are you okay? Not interrupting anything, am I?'

Oh great, this was all Takao needed, Ray wriggling his eyebrows and doing his arch-psychiatrist bit.

'No.' Better warn him, thought Takao. 'I was just cutting Max's hair.'

In the sitting room, Max had hurriedly pulled the chair away from the mirror and shoved Takao's comb and scissors out of sight as guiltily as if they'd been about to launch into a bondage session complete with rubber masks and whips. In the few minutes it took Ray to barge into the room, Max hauled out a wallpaper chart and began leaf industriously through it, and expression of deep concentration on his face.

'I used to look like that when I was supposed to be revising for my GCSEs,' Ray observed. 'As soon as you hear someone coming, kick the magazine under the bed, switch off the music, grab a textbook and look riveted.' He gave Takao a dazzling smile. 'What I want to know is why Max's doing it now.'

'I thought you were staying in tonight?' said Takao.

'Kai turned up. He said it was time we were friends again.' Ray's shoes clicked on the bare, sanded-down floorboards as he strode up and down investigating the room.

'So?'

'He took me out for a let's-be-friends-again drink.'

'And then what happened?' said Max.

'First he was a pompous, patronising git.' Ray began ticking points off on his fingers. 'Then he was totally insulting and rude, refusing to believe a single word I said.'

'It wasn't by any chance one of your excused for being late, was it?' said Takao. 'Didn't happen to involve a stranded puppy about to be mown down by a juggernaut?'

Ray ignored this. He ticked off a third finger. 'So we ended up having another fight and not being friends again after all.' H shrugged to show he couldn't care less. 'I marched out of the pub, forgetting I didn't actually have any money on me. But then I remembered you'd brought Max over here, so I thought I'd hitch a ride back with you.' He gave Takao a winning smile. 'I won't be any trouble, honestly. You two just carry on as if I wasn't here.'

'The thing is, Kai's great,' Max protested. 'We all really like him. What I don't understand is how you manage to get into the arguments with him in the first place.'

'Me? Ha! Basically, he just opens his mouth and starts laying into me.' Ray looked indignant. 'All I do is defend myself.'

'So what was it he refused to believe?'

'Something that was true!'

Takao, who had found his scissors and was repositioning the chair in front of the mirror, murmured under his breath, 'Now who's being evasive?'

'Go on.' Max was intrigued by the fact that Ray was being prevaricating. 'Tell us.'

'Okay. I told him I was seeing someone.'

Max frowned.

'But you aren't.'

'I am, actually.'

Takao gave Ray a sharp look. He hoped this didn't have anything to do with Bryan Kutsenov's scene-stealing appearance in the salon the other day. No, no, it couldn't possibly. Even Ray wasn't that gullible.

It was curious, however, that Ray evidently hadn't mentioned the Bryan Kutsenov incident to Max. Never one to hug an item of gossip to his chest, Ray had for some reason certainly managed it this time. Takao couldn't help wondering why.

'And that's what you argued about?' Max persisted. 'Kai didn't believe you when you told him you had a boyfriend, so you had a fight with him and stormed out of the pub?' He took the towel Takao handed him and wrapped it around his shoulders, struggling to understand.

'He said some horrible things about me,' wailed Ray. 'I'm telling you, Kai Hiwatari is a complete pig.'

It went against the grain to even think it, but Takao was reluctantly forced to admit that he was grateful to Ray for showing up. Cutting Max's hair without a chaperon could have been a risky business. At least now he was able to concentrate on the task in hand.

It was, Takao reflected, an unreal situation. Normally when he met a guy he liked the look of, they'd end up in bed together within a few hours. And yet here he was now, having met someone as untouchable as a nun, helplessly in love with him and not even able to kiss him.

Nothing like this had ever happened to Takao before. Now all he had to do was make sure no one else found out that it had.

'So who is this chap you've been seeing?' said Max.

Ray shook his head.

'I can't tell you.'

'Why not?'

'I just can't, okay?'

Max gazed in horror at Ray's reflection in the mirror.

'Not Hiro!'

'Oh, come on, do I look that stupid? Of course not Hiro.'

'Who, then?'

'Wait until Monday.' Ray had been insulted quite enough for one night; he certainly didn't need another snotty lecture from Takao. 'I'll tell you then, I promise.'

Either that, or emigrate.

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The phone rang at seven thirty the next morning while Ray was on the loo. Typical. Boxers at half-mast, he almost broke both legs crashing downstairs to catch it on the third ring, because third rings were lucky.

Snatching up the phone in the nick of time, he gasped, 'Yu – yes?'

'Hey, heavy breathing, my favourite kind. Don't stop, do some more.' Bryan sounded cheerful. 'You know, you could charge fifty pee a minute for that.'

'Did you finish with Daisy?' It was no good, Ray simply couldn't be laid-back and casual about it – he had spent the night wide awake with his heart on springs.

'Still trying. I'm doing my best but she isn't taking it very well.'

'What's she doing?' Ray struggled to haul his boxers up; not easy with only one hand.

'Trashing my flat.' As Bryan spoke, there was a crash in the background. 'Jesus, and I'm supposed to be out of here by eight.'

Ray felt dreadful, as if it were all his fault. Bryan had to be at Silverstone for the all-important qualifying laps and now, thanks to Ray, he had this to contend with, a madwoman smashing up his home.

Another loud crash made Ray jump.

'I'd better go,' said Bryan.

'Good luck.'

Bryan sounded amused. 'With the practise laps, or getting rid of Cruella de Vil?'

He's doing all this for me, thought Ray, his heart bounding like a gazelle.

'Both.'

There was a click on the line as someone picked up the extension.

'That's him, isn't it?' screamed a hysterical voice. 'You're bloody talking to him now! How dare you DO THIS TO ME, YOU BAST-'

Abruptly, the line went dead. Ray put down the receiver and pulled up his boxers. There was no point trying to ring back – all he could do was go off to work, say nothing about this to anyone, and wait.

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Nine hours later, Max let himself into the empty house and read the note that Florence had left on the table out in the hall:

Darling Boys,

Have been whisked away by a wicked vicar with a fetish for old women in support tights. Gone to Edinburgh, back in a week. Don't do anything too naughty while we're away!

Florence had taken on a whole new lease of life since she started seeing Tom. And it was all thanks to Hiro, thought Max, marvelling at the sneaky tricks fate could play.

He made himself a cup of tea and tore the wrapper off a Wagon Wheel and wandered through to the sitting room, dying to examine his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and admire his new, improved hair.

Hooray, it still looked great. All day in the shop, customers had been complimenting him on the cut. Now, Max experienced a surge of gratitude towards Takao. The 1960's Shetland Pony look had gone for good; he had improved Max beyond recognition and boosted his confidence no end.

And Max knew Takao loved Thai curries. Maybe if Takao wasn't doing anything tomorrow afternoon Max could make one for him as a way of saying thank you.

Still bust admiring his hair from all sides, Max picked up the ringing phone.

'Hello?'

'I know you're the one he's been seeing,' hissed a furious female voice, 'but you can't have him, okay? He's not yours, he's mine, all mine.'

Click, brrr.