ROLE CHANGE CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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Rome wasn't built in a day and Ethan's bad moods didn't miraculously evaporate altogether. Over the next few weeks, Cal would never know if he would encounter happy Ethan or cynical, grumbling Ethan when he knocked at his bedroom door to take him down to breakfast. Some days Ethan would be almost euphoric and be singing Grover and Kellerman's praises, others he was growling how "Those legal parasites" would charge a huge fee and find nothing. The first time Sophia, at both Cal and Ethan's invitation, turned up for dinner at their home, he was the perfect host, the next he left all the work to his brother and went to read and sulk in his room.
Cal could never quite believe his luck that Sophia understood Ethan's frame of mind.
"He's got a lot to be angry with me for, Cal; I recommended that idiot Glen."
"But Glen took everybody in, love. And you know how Ethan's moods have been. He'll love you again next time you visit."
"I hope not! He's a sweetie, but it's you I want!"
Out of the blue, Ethan suddenly asked if he could go to the gym with Cal again.
"Not to go on any machines, you understand, just to watch."
"No worries."
Denise was thrilled to see Ethan back again and said with her usual lack of tact:
"Does this mean you're all cured now?"
"Not yet, Denise, although slowly and surely I'm improving. I'm just watching today."
"Well don't you go goggling at those pretty girls' bums or I'm going to be dead jealous."
Because it was 'Serene, friendly Ethan' day he just grinned at her.
After about fifteen minutes of watching, Ethan asked:
"Can I have a session on the reclining bike?"
"Let me ask Mark first; he's the boss."
Sophia was taking no chances.
"Got your brace on, Ethan?" Mark mouthed discreetly.
"You bet!"
"Okay then, but just five minutes and at level one. You keep coming and I'll gladly increase your speed."
Ethan was pedalling and grinning away like a child who had been allowed to go on the theme park ride of his choice.
"She knows what she's talking about, that girl of yours. I'm glad I didn't drive you apart, Cal."
Mark had dropped the lads off at a local pub, known for its generously sized, delicious meals. Cal had booked a taxi for later.
"A little secret, brother mine. You wouldn't have, even if you'd never known we were back together."
"Mr Deceitful. Still, it's better than having you lolloping round the house like a monk."
"Lolloping? I do not lollop."
"You aren't standing where I'm standing sometimes."
Then Ethan's happy mood evaporated.
"Cal, supposing the solicitors don't get us the money? How much is in the kitty right now?"
"Don't worry about that."
"But I do. We're sitting here having a three-course meal…"
"Speak for yourself! Starter and mains is fine for me."
"Cal, this is Sanderson's, famous for their desserts. They do Raspberry Tiramisu, Caleb."
"Good; I hope you enjoy it."
"And you're not even having the cheese board? A sorbet?"
"No dessert, Ethan, I'll just sit back and watch you devouring it."
Ethan grinned wickedly. He'd let Cal drop his defences.
"So, how much is in that kitty? I'm going to create a scene. A scene with broken glass until you tell me."
Cal told him. It wasn't the figure from Ethan's nightmares but it wasn't a dream figure either.
"If it wasn't for me and my stupid back, you'd still be working."
"So would you. You lost out as well."
"I won't ever be going back to medicine" Ethan announced.
The decision stunned Cal for a moment, then it made sense. Ethan had been hurt because of his job.
"No sweat, Ethan."
"But I'm not going to parasite on you any more either. Well, not indefinitely. I'm pretty good at figures, and putting business letters together. I'm going to have a little more time off to heal a bit more, then I'm going to join a temping agency. Even if it's only part-time."
Suddenly Cal didn't care about a scene being made. He grabbed Ethan in a gentle hug, taking care to avoid damage.
"I love you, Hardy."
An old lady, getting the wrong idea, gave them a frosty stare and stage-whispered to her friend:
"They're getting everywhere, Vera. Disgusting."
"You're not coming to our wedding" Ethan told her like a petulant child, "And we've got Boy George coming."
Cal began to snigger; he really couldn't wait to tell Sophie about this.
The next minute, the wine waiter came to their table, smiling, with champagne flutes and bottles.
"To the happy couple!" he beamed, and poured both men a glass of champagne.
"May we have our bill please?" called the old ladies.
Ethan didn't get his Tiramisu because after the main course had been cleared away, the owner of Sanderson's came to his and Cal's table with a special cake. To the brothers' horror, a violin soloist followed him…
"We'll never be able to eat here again" mourned Ethan.
He realized Pete Sanderson was just behind him.
"Oh you will, lads" Pete grinned, "It was worth the cake and champers to see those homophobic old bitches leaving! Besides, and do forgive my big mouth and ears, someone with as much guts as you two deserve a treat. The meal's on the house."
The celebratory mood was brought down just a little when they received the letter from Grover and Kellerman.
Despite the initial news being good, Ethan felt a pang of unease. He was going to be asked to appear in front of a panel who would want to assess him. Could he really face everybody starting at him?
He'd do it for Cal, for all the money he'd lost when he had to quit his job. And a few comfort items wouldn't be bad either. But the biggest carrot that the letter dangled towards him was that the letter had been printed out by Liza, and that in the third paragraph she'd mentioned organizing a session with Ethan to brief him about the procedures.
Whatever else occurred, he'd like that.
For the next three months, things went at a slower pace for Ben and Sara. Ben, however, felt a little queasy at having to impersonate somebody who was actually dead; then he remembered Stefan's cruelty to Sara and managed to ignore the pricking of his conscience. Sara herself comforted him:
"You are a good man, Ben. You have brought me security and comfort, even if it is for so short a time. Always remember that. Now, tell me more about the musical role."
A role you'll never see me playing, Ben thought unhappily. Then he prayed silently:
Please, make it possible. If I get that role, let Sara somehow be there in the theatre with me on the opening night.
Ben had forgotten to be careful what he wished for.