Athens was good and bad in equal measure. Alex was glad he made the team. He was at the peak of fitness but he had made some spectacularly bad choices in the last six months. Tony, like a man possessed, had worked almost continually since Jon's death in late January.

Alex had decided to move to Loughborough after ten days spent on his own in Lambeth. He'd transferred to a local college to finish his A levels. Life between training and school and not much else. He worked like a demon to sit for three A Levels in June. Alex had not seen Tony since July, when Tony had told him of his decision to move to New York. The house in Lambeth had been cleared and rented out, possessions placed in storage. Alex no longer saw his shrink Richard and missed talking over stupid things. Alex had meant to continue therapy but concluded the time was better spent training.

Alex looked at his two gold medals and listened to his relay team mates celebrate. Nobody commented on Alex getting up and going to bed. It was nearly dawn when Jake made it back to their room. Jake went to sleep and Alex got up. Alex stood in Phaleron War Cemetery and put his bouquet and laurel on the steps of the war memorial, as he had three days previously when he had won his first gold medal.

Alex had left messages for Tony during the first two weeks he had been in Athens, none of his messages had been returned so he had not bothered to let Tony know he had won any races. Tony was off in New York soaking up the limelight in a successful stage production. Four days ago, Alex had been quite upset with his sixth place in the 200m Individual medley heats, but all he got was Tony's messaging service.

Alex had overheard that the South African swim team were having a big party in their accommodation block tonight to celebrate the end of the swimming events. Alex would go visit the Parthenon today, then party like the world was about to end.

Alex did not notice the photographer taking his picture as he paid his respects to his parents and to his erstwhile fathers Jon and Alexei at the memorial.

Alex nursed a low-alcohol beer and viewed the party. It looked like none of his team mates were here yet. It was just after seven and the music had yet to start. Alex eyes were drawn to one of the South African team organising the party. Self assured, bossy, stocky and short. Dark hair and eyes. Alex licked his lips as he turned away. Alex heard someone call the man Steve. The music started, not that Alex would dance. He found a sofa pushed against the far wall and sat down. Walking up to the parthanon this morning had left his legs sore. Alex listened to the music through closed eyes as the party started to get lively. Someone sat next to him.

A deep voice with a south African accent spoke "Hello Alex. It is Alex isn't it?"

Alex opened his eyes to slits to observe the short stocky man, built more like a weight lifter than a swimmer. "Hi Steve. Enjoying the games."

"Sure am. I've heard some weird rumours about you. Half say your some poor orphan kid, withdrawn, abused, neglected and the other that your an aloof, arrogant loner? Which is the real Alex?"

Alex smiled "Loner yes. Very few people hold my interest." Alex then shifted to move round to press his body into Steve's personal space. "Swimming is my zen. Everything else is just annoying." Alex hand ran down his thighs as he stretched.

"Well I won my bet. I got you to talk to me. I was expecting you to tell me to Fuck Off". Steve was smiling as he said this.

Alex laughed "So was the bet just to get me to talk or anything else?" Alex was looking into Steve's eyes at this point. Steve looked ever so slightly uncomfortable. When Alex leaned forward and kissed him. Even with the loud music Alex caught the increase in talking in the room. Obviously, Alex was meant to have stormed out instead of enjoying an intimate moment. Steve was obviously a bit of a player. Well, Alex was not averse to being played.

Steve broke the kiss. "Not a virgin then."

Alex wondered who the hell had thought he was a virgin. "Shall we go to your room to continue our conversation." As Alex was led upstairs he could not fail to see Steve's hand gestures at pulling the enigma that was Alex Fletcher-Smith. Alex knew his team mates had all been told about Poor Alex, the sex abuse victim. Most had stopped interacting with him altogether after that revelation. Alex spoke to his training partners about training and a couple of the girls said hello, but that was about it. Jake his room mate was friendly with everyone. Alex missed his easy friendship with Tom, but Tom had left London and the suffocating relationship with his parents as soon as he had finished his GCSE's. Life in Italy with his brother Jerry was a long relaxed pursuit of pleasure.

Steve's room was neat and tidy. "My room mate has already gone home. No one to disturb us."

Alex sat on the bed "I hope you don't mind me removing my legs, but I prefer to relax without them."

"Go ahead make yourself comfortable." Steve watched as Alex removed his trousers, prosthetic legs and socks.

Alex stretched out on Steve's bed and asked "What do you prefer?"

"I'm pretty flexible, though I prefer to top."

"Good I like to be fucked." Alex sat up and pulled off his t-shirt, leaving just his boxers on, before adding, "I think you're wearing too many clothes."

It was a slow seduction. Alex pleasantly surprised as Steven took time to find out exactly what Alex liked and instead of a quick fuck. Their coupling was long, slow and intense. Alex felt like crying when Steve slowly pushed into him. Steve took Alex's shuddering to mean he had actually been a virgin and had soothed him and progressed with such gentleness until Alex had forced a change in pace. The couple fell asleep in each others arms. Alex woke early and shifted out of the narrow bed to use the facilities. When he returned he noted sleeping beauty had a beautiful erection. Steve woke to the fantastic sensation of being sucked off. "You sinful boy. Who taught you to do blow jobs so well?"

Alex sat up. "You really don't want to know. Shall I continue to blow you or do you want to fuck me again?"

"I definitely want to fuck you again." Steve drawled with a wide sleepy smile.

They both surfaced at lunch time and the wolf whistles sang out when they entered the canteen together. Alex had told Steve a little about himself. He also told him about his only boyfriend. Getting involved with Craig had been a major mistake on Alex's part. Craig had arrived as the new sports masseur and had homed in on the grieving Alex. Craig played the sympathy card and things progressed into a sexual relationship, until someone had told Craig about Alex's checkered past. Well, the officially sanctioned version of Alex's past. Craig had dropped Alex like a stone. Alex had even phoned Richard to ask advice. He might have left out the part of Craig being 25 and on the staff not someone at college. Getting burned was part of having relationships, eventually someone would accept Alex warts and all.

Steve let Alex hang out. Alex got to know the South African swim team who accepted him. He got to chat and flirt. Alex was almost a normal teenager.

After another night spent together. Steve questioned him, noting that Alex was probably bisexual. "So you fancy girls?"

"Yes well maybe. I went on a few dates with Becka's friends. Mostly they were complete disasters. I've become more comfortable in my skin over the past year, so I may try dating girls in the future. I'm more comfortable with boyfriends at the moment."

Alex then watched Steve on the prowl as other bright young things caught his eye. "Go ahead, Steve. I'm just think that the American you're eyeing up is way out of my league." Alex had surmised that maybe it was the chase that Steve liked. Alex just accepted the offered two day relationship. Slightly better than a one night stand, but luckily Steve progressed from lover to friend in one easy transition. Unlike Craig, who treated Alex like he had the plague, but still stared at him in a creepy way when no one was looking.

That night Alex returned to his room and the hushed whispers of his team mates, Jake came straight out and asked what had gone over the past two nights. "I connected with a guy on the South African Swim team. We hung out. He's after some guy on the US athletics team now."

"Steve the randy dwarf? He tries it on with everyone."

"He's worth a try. Attentive, great kisser, good sized cock."

"Shut up Alex too much information." Jake said with a sour look on his face, then he continued "Umm l Nigel wants words with you as well. Being underage and all."

"The age of consent in Greece is sixteen and is not dependent on gender or sexuality like the stupid rules in the UK." Alex said slightly pissed off. He was 17 now, not a child.

"How could I forget that your pa is a card carrying member of Outrage."

"I better go see Nigel and get my bollocking."

Nigel was sat in his office on the phone when Alex arrived to talk. Nigel had to handle all the publicity, team schedules and all the shit caused by a group of young adults away from home.

"Ahh Alex, close the door. It has been brought to my notice about your fraternisation with a certain member of the South African team."

Alex looked at Nigel with a bored look on his face "So?"

"Alex, we know you have had a sexual relationship with him."

Alex was in no mood to be pleasant or apologetic "So what, we fucked. Its not like I haven't done it before."

Nigel looked uncomfortable. "Alex. Maybe we should have set you clear boundaries. We have let you have a free reign, but you are still only 17. I know you have been to every training session and you have performed wonderfully, but you have left the village without permission and without an escort to wander about Athens on your own on two occasions. This relationship with an adult member of another team and spending two nights away from your assigned accommodation is another black mark on your record. I feel a curfew of 10pm to 7am needs to be enforced with no unsupervised or unescorted members on any other team in your room. I know that you may have picked up bad habits during the six months you've spent in the Halls of Residence at Loughborough. Your placement there was meant to have been a short term solution after your guardian died."

Alex listened, processed Nigel's concerns and acquiesced slightly "Yeah OK. I promise not to get help silver tongued South Africans to win large bets in the future."

"Bets?" Nigel was stumped now.

"Well you know everybody thinks I'm an antisocial, mentally unstable, loner. So... quite a few members of the swim team bet that Steve could not strike up a conversation with me. I have sneaky feeling the bet was about him not being able to persuade me to shag, but Steve was very good in that department so I have no complaints." Alex then smiled broadly.

Then Nigel countered with "Have you been sexually active long?"

Alex narrowed his eyes but was brutally honest "I had a brief fling in March which involved no penetration, just mutual masturbation. So technically not an criminal offense."

Just what the team manager did not want to hear, "Please tell me it was a student you were involved with."

"No member of staff. Your staff. I won't name names, but when he found out about my past he was convinced I was confused or mistaken about my consent or intensions or something along those lines. I'm happy with my sexuality thank you very much."

"Is there any chance of you living with Tony again?"

"No, he has rented out the house in Lambeth and settled in New York." Alex did not add that he'd rather be on the streets than stay with Peter and Madga. Peter was the one to suggest Alex give Tony some space to grieve. What the hell in another six months and he was an adult and should get a big enough allowance from his trust fund to live in a nice bedsit somewhere dingy. The one time Alex rang Dylan all he got was a 40 minute rant about Tony upping sticks and then bitch about Tony's American agent, Clarissa Schutz.

"Silvia Smith has offered to put you up."

Alex shuddered at the thought of the tight knit Smith family. Sylvia had grown closer to Jon's parents after his death as if the previous estrangement had not happened. "Yeah. I guess it could be worse. The digs in Loughborough aren't bad."

"Alex, you being placed in a university self catering accommodation was not ideal. I should have fought harder for a family placement."

"It was the best you could do on short notice, Nigel. Its not like I could not cope or anything." Alex could remember coping very well on my own at six in Paris, when Ian disappeared for two weeks, when the housekeeper was on holdiday.

Nigel was busy making notes on his lap top. "Try to go into Athens on escorted trips, your visit to the war memorial made it into the Greek newspapers and try to keep to the curfew."

"Sorry for being a nightmare."

"You're an angel compared to the drunken antics of some of your team mates. If you have any problems my door is always open."

Alex got up to go. "Thanks Nigel, for everything. Night."

Nigel looked at Alex leave. He knew he should have kept a closer eye on Alex. He'd been made aware that Alex had burst into tears after winning his 100m freestyle race. Alex needed an emotional outlet. At least Alex had made some friends here and was socialising. In the past six months all Alex did was study and train. Nigel wondered how the fact Alex had become sexually active had escaped him, but then Alex was very good at his emotionless mask.

Alex knew he should go and have dinner but he could not be bothered, so he went straight to bed. He had two new russian novels to read. He was on his own as Jake had gone out. Alex tried to read but everything felt off. Stuck in his room. He picked up his phone, completely forgotten for the past three days and switched it on. Three messages from Ben Daniels. Alex rang his number. "Hello Alex, Congrats on the two medals by the way." was the cheerful answer after Ben picked up.

Alex mumbled a quick "Thanks."

Then Ben continued "I have some bad news for you. Your godfather, Anthony Howell has died. I'm sorry I don't have any details except a phone number in Oz." Alex was a bit stunned. On autopilot he wrote down the number.

A quick goodbye and Alex sat back to collect himself before calculating the time difference to Sydney. He could ring in about four hours. Alex sat listening to the hustle and bustle of the village, watching the glow of the sunset disappear and the moon rise before ringing the number.

"Marc Damon" said an abrupt voice answered.

"Umm Hi I'm ringing about my godfather, Anthony Howell. I was told he had passed away. My name is Alex, Alexander John Fletcher-Smith but my birth name was Rider. Ben Daniels passed your number to me."

"OK Alex. I'm acting as executor to your godfather's estate. How can I help you?"

"How...How did Ash die?"

"Umm." The pause extended. Obviously the Mr Damon was unsure how to phrase his answer before finally saying "Mr Howell shot himself."

"Right. Suicide." Alex did not know how to react to that news.

"Mr Howell has left almost everything to you in his will. His assets include an apartment in Sydney and a Lodge in the Black mountains. He also had a fair bit in savings and investments."

"When did he die?"

"17th August. His funeral was held on the 25th of that month."

Alex paused "Actually, I don't want anything from Ash. Give it all to charity. Unesco, Children's Hospitals in Australia and the Paralympic Movement, whatever. The bastard was never there for me."

"OK, Alex I'll arrange the dispersal of his estate. I might have to reconfirm your wishes after you become a legal adult in five months. Is that OK?"

"Sure, arrange it with Ben Daniels or whoever at the Bank. Ben can normally get hold of me."

"Sure thing." At that Alex switched off his phone. Then took it to pieces to remove the sim card. He must have sat motionless for about 20 minutes, then he noticed the time 01:34, he needed to talk to someone.

Alex started to cry. Alex tried to reign the emotions in, box them up; but it was not happening.

Alex blinked wiping the tears from his face. "Why am I upset? Ash did not give a flying fuck about me. Last time I saw him I was seven. He left me with that bastard Ian. My parents wanted him to bring me up but he bailed" Then Alex ranted "Oh thats right no one gives a fuck about me. I have to get my facts straight". Alex stood up and started to pack his ruck sack. He was going to swim in the sea, sunbathe and forget about everything and everybody. Alex scrawled a short note and then left. At the gate a cleaner offered him a lift to the bus station.