Chapter 4 #2
“—he’s leaving his job to be a house husband, because Nigel wants them to adopt—is this really that funny, guys?
Seriously?” Kate reckoned she had her answer to the question that had annoyed Ben.
Out hardly described these two. They seemed entirely unable or unwilling to see they’d embraced exactly this lifestyle.
Sure, they weren’t florists or chefs—Nikolas’s wealth kept them nicely in denial about the mundane business of working at all—but they were gay, for fuck’s sake, so why they were finding Nigel and Justin so amusing was beyond her.
It irritated her. It hadn’t been funny reading about Nigel, a forty-eight-year-old man, crying.
Not at all. Why should his life be so bloody difficult, when all he wanted was the same things she did—someone to love, children… ?
Ben had stopped chuckling and was watching her. He rested the back of his hand against her cheek. “What’s wrong? Kate? You’ve gone white.”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m…It’s nothing.”
Nikolas slid his chair back a little. She could sense him trying to read her hesitation and resolutely tapped the bio she’d handed him.
“I’m going to ring Tim, see if Michael’s back. Study these.”
* * *
Nikolas watched her leave. “What was she saying to you before I came in?”
“Nothing important.”
Nikolas knew that tone, however, and kept glancing at Ben thoughtfully as they pretended to be studying their folders. Eventually, Ben hissed, “Stop it!”
Nikolas huffed. “I’m not convinced my definition of what’s important between you and Kate coincides with yours. Tell me what she said.”
“She wanted to know if I was out.”
“Out of what?”
The wince of pain was noticeable. “The closet.”
Nikolas was quiet for a while, pondering this then clarified hesitantly, “She wanted to know if you were gay?”
“Yes.” The word was barely audible through Ben’s locked jaw.
“Strange question.”
Ben let out a long breath of relief. “That’s what I thought!”
“Out of the blue? Just like that?”
“I know!”
“Were you doing anything to lead her to think you might be?”
“What like, for fuck’s sake? I was making tea!”
“That’s not particularly gay, I agree. I think she’s just reassuring herself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t want her anymore so there must be something wrong with you. All women do it—every man is gay if he’s not interested in them.”
Ben appeared slightly floored by this as if he’d been following the argument so far but had now been left stumped. “I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I won’t.” Ben pushed his chair from the table and stood up. “I’m going for a run.”
Nikolas considered Ben with narrowed eyes as he left.
He’d committed a tactical error. He made it a rule never to leave Ben alone with Kate.
Which he conceded might seem to contradict his recruitment of her in the first place.
After all, he could have employed any computer expert—it didn’t have to be Ben’s ex.
But Nikolas had studied the art of war. He’d read Sun-tzu and Machiavelli and entirely agreed with them: enemies were best kept close.
* * *
By the end of the day, both Nikolas and Ben had their profiles learnt. Squeezy was still missing. Time had begun to weigh on them.
Nigel and Justin had been together for four years.
They’d met at the opening of Nigel’s second shop when Justin had catered the party.
They’d moved into Nigel’s house the previous year and were now talking about adoption.
Or Nigel was. He appeared to be deeply aware of being nearly fifty, something he spoke about as almost akin to death.
He felt the pressure of his years upon him in everything he did.
Justin, at thirty-eight, which was not a fantastically young age, still felt they had years left before they needed to settle down and resented having to give up his job to show commitment to starting a family.
Having finally met someone, he wanted them to travel together, have adventures, live life to the full.
Nigel wanted to nest; Justin wanted to fly.
It was something of a dilemma. A friend had recommended therapy.
As Englishmen, both Nigel and Justin had responded to this with open derision, but after a particularly bad month, where Justin had moved out temporarily and Nigel had suffered an accident on his bike, riding, Justin claimed, drunk, they’d agreed to seek help.
Hence the visits to Dr Wood and the weekly pouring out of their hearts.
Finally, unable to resolve their schism, Doctor Julian had told them about the intensive, residential therapy group.
They’d agreed to make the call and attend.
* * *
Nikolas rang the doorbell of the small house in Barnett. The man who answered was clearly taken aback and objected quickly, “Sorry, I’m not a believer,” and began to shut the door. Nikolas put his foot in it.
“Neither are we. Nigel Stannis?”
Nigel nodded, wary, glancing out into the road, perhaps thinking the two huge men in expensive suits were…police?
Nikolas handed him a card. “My name is Nikolas Mikkelsen, this is my associate B—”
“Ben Rider!” Sudden recognition made the colour rise high and fast to Nigel Stannis’s face.
“Oh, my God, you’re ex-Special-Forces-expert Ben Rider.
” He stuck out his hand. “We watch all your shows. That tsunami documentary was amazing. I mean, tragic, of course but…anyway, what can I do for you? Come in.”
Nikolas gave Ben a look between narrowed eyes.
Ben shrugged, apparently amused at Nikolas’s annoyance and followed Nigel into the tiny house.
Justin was in the kitchen, making toast. The introductions and exclamations over the fabulousness of actually meeting ex-Special-Forces-expert Ben Rider took place over offers of tea, and eventually all four of them were sitting at the very small kitchen table.
They’d debated in the car how they were going to approach the task they now had.
Nikolas had suggested either taking the two men out entirely—he favoured a tragic suicide pact—or kidnapping them and holding them in a secure place until the op was over.
Ben ignored him as usual and suggested they be totally honest (for once) and enlist their support.
Nikolas kept his thoughts to himself about total honesty or asking for help from a gay florist and decided he’d wing it.
This method had worked well in the past for him.
He let Ben assume his escape from Zaslon, taking up his brother’s life, marrying into the Royal Family and hiding in the shadows of the dark world of the department had been clever, planned moves on his part.
The truth was, most of it had been done on a wing and a prayer…
like his decision to fuck Ben the first time over the billiard table. It could have gone very badly wrong.
Now, though, faced with eager, curious, friendly faces, he decided to go for Ben’s option.
He told them about a friend—a client of Doctor Wood—going missing…
that the last known location they had for him was the therapy group, and that they, therefore, wanted to infiltrate it.
This seemed a safer choice than telling them about Jonathan, which might lead to more questions than they were able to answer.
Nikolas explained that he and Ben wanted to take their places. So far so good. Until Justin frowned and asked, quite reasonably, he thought—it would have been his question had their roles been reversed—“How do you know all this? About us and Doctor Wood?”
There was an embarrassed silence around the table.
Nikolas wished he’d pushed for one of his solutions.
Reluctantly, he admitted he’d read the doctor’s notes from their last session.
He didn’t add he’d read the notes of every session and knew far more about Nigel and Justin’s sex life (and other things) than they could possibly imagine (or want).
More tea had to be made and consumed while the two men worked through this, but eventually, Nigel asked, clearly very curious, “So, if we agreed, how would you pull it off? I mean, would you employ actors to take our roles? What? I don’t really get how this is going to work. ”
Nikolas was puzzled. “No. We will take your place. I’m approximately your age, very approximately, and Ben is—”
“No, I mean, this is intensive therapy for gay men. How would you—you couldn’t…” He trailed off.
There was a pause, which neither Ben nor Nikolas felt willing to fill, although the words that needed to be said were fairly obvious.
Justin seemed to hear them in the silence.
His gaze suddenly flicked between them and he exclaimed, “You’re gay?
Ben’s gay? I thought you were going to marry that model with the cocaine nose job! You can’t be gay!”
Ben appeared a little put out, but before he could comment, Nikolas snapped, “So, you agree?”
Nigel was still staring at his favourite star, probably now even more a favourite and murmured, “What’s in it for us?”
“Marital bliss?”
Three sets of eyes swivelled to Nikolas.
He shrugged. “You say you want to settle down. You say you want adventure. I propose you take a holiday. An adventurous holiday. A very adventurous holiday for two months. I believe you’ll return from that experience,” he glanced at Justin, “extremely glad to settle down.”
“We can’t aff—”
“A gift from me. Two months in New Zealand. A wilderness experience. First class travel, of course.”
Both men’s brows rose. They regarded each other eagerly and nodded.
* * *
They returned to their London house. Nikolas considered Ben as he rummaged in the fridge for something to eat. “What’s wrong?”
Ben pouted. “I want to go on a wilderness experience to New Zealand for two months…I don’t want to go on a bloody gay one.”
Nikolas sighed. “I agree. We have forty-eight hours. If your stupid friend returns before we have to leave we will take the flights to New Zealand, agreed?”