Chapter 20 #2
He’s not just amused, he’s at complete ease and also very aware that he’s spoilt.
He’s so lucky to be with Loris, shielded from the impacts of his vexations of the day, marching towards an experience that no amount of money would get him.
So he beams, blissful, because it would be ungrateful to hide it from Loris.
Hiding it from the world is way worse, but when they turn onto his street, where lights at windows feel like threatening shadows, Charles tenses up and steps aside.
‘Sorry… We’re nearly there.’
‘Why are you sorry?’
‘I can’t be seen too close to you here. Well, I could, but I’m not… ready yet.’
‘I know. Don’t worry about that, Charles.’
‘I don’t want to be hurtful.’
‘You’re not. You’ve embarked on a very complicated psychological journey. Don’t rush any of it for me. Or anyone. If anything, I think it’s brave to take me to your place, based on everything you’ve said about it.’
‘My parents aren’t home.’
‘Still brave.’
Charles is definitely the luckiest. This is why people around the world should curse his name tonight. Having Loris all to himself.
‘Thank you. And you can start freaking out. Here’s my house.’
‘No. This is not a house. This is a flat complex.’
‘Yes, it’s ridiculously huge.’
‘Pardon my French, but… Putain…’
Charles smiles and presses his fob against the reader of the iron gate.
Once inside the walls, able to contemplate the entire house, Loris whispers another awestruck ‘Putain’ and cranes his neck backwards as they walk down the driveway.
His amazement is a great foretaste of what will happen upstairs, but it’s bittersweet to Charles, who’s grown incapable of appreciating the magnificence of his cage.
‘This building is a masterpiece in itself. I can’t even freak out over Sofia.’
‘I might strip down to my underwear in the painting room.’
Loris exaggerates a jump and hastens to join him. ‘Four walls and a roof, what’s the big deal?’
Charles laughs again, unlocks the door and checks that the alarm isn’t activated before preceding Loris inside.
Clare is crossing the entrance hall, her apron folded over her arm, but she freezes when she sees him. ‘Good evening, Charles. You’re here… Did you need me tonight?’
‘Not at all. We’re going up to the art room. We’ll help ourselves if we get hungry. Enjoy your night off.’
‘Good. I mean, thank you. The food in the left fridge is for your mother’s luncheon tomorrow, if you could not help yourself to any of that. Please. If you don’t mind.’
‘Duly noted.’
Charles gives her a warm smile, hoping to appease her constant edginess, but conscious he’s bound to fail. Alice’s requests tend to suck the will to live out of the most zealous employees, one last-minute social event at a time.
‘Loris, this is Clare.’
‘Your pie was out of this world!’
Loris flattens his palm onto his chest with a look that paints Clare’s cheeks red.
‘I’ll bake it more often if you’re a regular guest.’
‘I wasn’t. I am now.’
She giggles and disappears into a hallway.
Charles rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t you get enough free food already? Do you have to seduce the whole of London?’
‘It’s a life goal, yeah. My god, this place.’
‘I could give you a tour while it’s empty, but my plan wasn’t to share you with pieces of art for more than half an hour.’
‘Valid plan. Take me to Sofia. Clare can show me around next time.’
Charles grabs the end of Loris’ scarf and tugs him along towards the staircase.
His excitement and body temperature climb as they do but, soon, Loris slows down in front of the family photos.
The display has been rearranged since Charles took down the shot of Fred and Heloise.
He hasn’t been questioned about it, which is another proof that Alice is keeping his discoveries and behaviour to herself.
‘This is my brother Fred. Fred, this is Loris. I’m about to kiss him very inappropriately.’
Loris caresses his chin, just as Charles locks eyes with his grandfather’s sullen glare in a photo. This is a new level of exhilaration, so as soon as they reach the landing, he pushes Loris against the wall.
It is an inappropriate kiss given where they’re standing, but it’s gentle compared to what their reunion kisses have been so far – either drunk, anxious or aroused for longer than Charles could bear.
Loris is making sure not to rush this one, and Charles completely melts into it.
It reminds him of their first kiss in the flat, before it deepened and tilted the axis his world rotated around.
Fortunately, he’s used to Loris’ law of gravity now. He won’t lose his footing.
Charles draws back and pulls down the zip of Loris’ jacket. ‘Take this off.’
‘We’re not going to see Sofia first?’
‘We are, but I want you to be as comfortable as possible. Give me your stuff.’
‘Amazing VIP treatment.’ Loris wiggles out of his jacket and runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up more than it was. ‘Do I look good enough for Her?’
‘Good enough for me. This way! Just one thing, don’t touch Her. The alarm is sensitive.’
Loris nods vigorously, his eyes shining with an emotion Charles wishes he could bottle and take a sip of every morning.
He opens the door and toggles the switches.
One is connected to the brass chandeliers, the other to the lighting systems around the pieces of art.
He makes sure the one above Sofia hasn’t decided to join the conspiracy against him by malfunctioning today of all days, and he takes a few seconds to enjoy the sight, because She’s never looked this special and precious.
He tosses the red jacket onto a velvet bench near the door and removes his own coat without taking his eyes off Loris.
When they talked about Sofia, Charles conceded that he will never experience again the wonderment of someone seeing Her for the first time. But witnessing Loris’ discovery is just as magical. If Charles weren’t afraid to be intrusive, he would go lean next to Sofia in order to face him.
Instead, he stops when Loris does, ten feet away from the painting, his father’s armchair between them.
‘I’m gonna need a moment,’ Loris whispers, blinking hard.
‘Take your time.’
Charles can’t totally comprehend Loris’ reaction.
They don’t have the same relationship with the Lands, and it would be assumptive to interpret the emotions dancing on his face.
Charles is still learning to read him, like a book in a foreign language.
He’s yet to decipher his nuances and their true meaning.
But the little he can grasp resonates in his soul, and whenever Loris wipes his cheek, Charles is the one blinking hard.
After five minutes of religious silence, Loris outstretches his hand to the side. Charles joins him, entwines their fingers and rests his chin on his shoulder.
‘She’s something, isn’t She?’
‘She’s everything. She’s a flawless mess. I don’t get how Pavel did that. Take the perspective of the old town. It’s wrong, but it’s right. Nothing should work, but everything does. It’s beyond genius.’
‘You’re too technical for me. I just lose myself in the peaceful chaos.’
‘The form is chaotic. The content isn’t, unless—’
Loris cuts himself off, and Charles’ head snaps up, because the front door has slammed closed downstairs.
‘It must be Clare leaving. Or Robbie coming back. He’s our driver. What were you saying?’
‘Sofia is only chaotic through the Mind of Wonders filter, meaning She’s not.’
‘We’re not having this debate now, Loris. I really don’t want to get annoyed at you in this room.’
‘Okay, okay… So tell me who you speak to when you come here for answers. The women outside the Nevsky Cathedral? They look like they wouldn’t tell you what you want to hear either.’
‘I don’t talk. Most times, I—’
‘Charles!’
‘—simply— Shit!’
‘Robbie?’ Loris asks unconvincingly.
‘No.’ Charles scurries across the room, panic rumbling in his chest. ‘Damn it.’
‘Should I hide behind the… Putain. A Henry Moore bronze!’
‘Please don’t.’
It would be utterly suspicious if Loris squatted behind the pedestal. And he’s perfectly entitled to be here. He’s not the one who was supposed to be out and might ruin the day from start to finish.
‘What are you doing here?’ Charles hisses when his father appears in the corridor, sterner than ever.
‘The last time I checked, I owned this house.’
‘Weren’t you going to—’
‘Your mother was worried about the preparations for tomorrow’s lunch. With reason. Thankfully, we caught Carla before she left.’
‘Her name is Clare.’
‘She said that you brought a guest to the art room. You know this is something I want you to run by me beforehand.’
Milton moves to sidestep him, so Charles whirls around to re-enter the room first.
His panic turns into dread, but it has nothing to do with the relationship he needs to conceal. Milton would believe Loris is a time-travelling pirate before contemplating the possibility that they’re romantically involved together.
Charles’ fear is fuelled by the strong probability that his father is about to be venomous.
‘This is my friend Loris. Loris, meet my father, Milton Ledwell.’
Loris smiles, holding his hand out. ‘It’s a pleasure.’
Milton shakes it mechanically, his eyes sweeping the room in search of anything the intruder may have disrupted. When he eventually looks at Loris and scans his outfit, contempt starts seeping out of his pores.
‘How do you know Charles?’
‘We met through art. And I must say that your collection is truly extraordinary. It’s a privilege to see it.’
‘Indeed. Is it a French accent that I am perceiving?’
‘Indeed.’
‘What brought you to London?’
‘The weather and the food.’
Milton clicks his tongue. ‘What do you do for a living?’
‘I’m looking for inspiration.’
Loris smiles again with a confidence that relaxes Charles. Milton is powerless against someone who remains unimpressed.
‘Loris is a talented artist. Give it five years and you’ll fight to own his pieces.’
‘Maybe ten.’ Loris winks. ‘It’s harder to gain a profitable reputation than to develop skills.’