Chapter Thirteen
Christopher
By the time he gets home, Christopher is almost grateful for a few minutes to himself, but the moment he gets inside the bakery, the notifications on his phone start buzzing again.
He scrolls through the main Spanks Squad group chat, mostly just nice messages from everyone hoping he’s okay and asking him to check in.
Clearly, his mother has told Kit that they’ve spoken, because there’s a brief back-and-forth of irritation that he’d answered the phone to her but not his favourite people in the world.
He’s almost finished catching up on messages when a new set of notifications appears, from his separate group chat with Laurel and Ambrose.
Laurel: Toph, who is that absolute dish in the photo with you?
Ambrose: omg what
Laurel: He got tagged in something on Facebook. Hang on.
Ambrose: why are you on facebook??
What follows is a screenshot of a post in a group called Pen-y-M?r Community Action that includes a photo taken in the community centre while they were rearranging the main hall.
In the background, Christopher can be seen carrying a stack of chairs.
Next to him, with his back mostly to the camera, is Nash.
Christopher lets out a slow breath. It wouldn’t be ideal if the entirety of Facebook, and perhaps the world, worked out that Nash Nadeau was here thanks to a well-meaning photo in a Facebook group.
He must tell Nash, and perhaps have a word with Tamara, or whoever took the photo.
He doesn’t really know how to handle the privacy of a famous person but an accidental public photo leak seems avoidable.
Christopher: How do you know he’s dishy? He’s not even facing the camera.
Laurel: I don’t need to darling. What a pair of peaches he’s got.
Ambrose: hahahahhhha
Ambrose: wait i recognise those peaches
Ambrose: christopher why the hell are you hanging out with nash nadeau??????
Laurel: Who is that? I’m googling him.
Christopher: Why do you think that’s him?
Ambrose: smart of you to try and deflect my incredible detective skills iphy
Christopher: please don’t start using that nickname again
Laurel: Oh I hope it is him. He is very nice looking, isn’t he?
Ambrose: obviously i watched a bunch of the movies you told me to when i’ve been in the bath or bleaching my hair so i know the nash nadeau outline very well thank you
Ambrose: SPILL
Ambrose: is he gay
Well. Shit. Before Christopher can reply ‘No’ or at least
‘I don’t know’, Ambrose has replied.
Ambrose: i looked it up he is gay
Laurel: It’s quite concerning how quickly you did that darling.
Ambrose: I have skills that can’t be contained by the internet
Ambrose sends a full-length red-carpet photo of Nash wearing an elegant, sweeping jacket, which almost looks like a cloak, over a softly frilled white shirt and slim black trousers. He looks so different, so delicate almost. Something catches in Christopher’s throat.
Ambrose: he’s not wearing a boring suit
Christopher: Is that all you have to go on? He likes men because he’s not in a boring suit?
Laurel: It is still black darling.
Ambrose: yeah because he works in the most heterosexual corner of the industry ever
Ambrose: he can’t exactly wear a David Wojnarowicz at the met gala yet
Christopher: Who?
Ambrose: we’ll pick that back up later, because you will not distract me from this!!
Laurel: Yes darling, irrespective of all this you haven’t told us why you are hanging out with him in village halls.
Laurel: In fact, is he around for long? Do you think he’d be willing to do a brand deal with us? Do you have his agent’s contact details?
Christopher: I don’t have anything except an annoying man in my bed
This was obviously the wrong thing to say because his phone practically vibrates off the table with the number of messages Ambrose sends through. Christopher can just picture the devilish grin on their face.
Christopher: ALONE HE IS ALONE! I am not in the bed with him.
Ambrose: boo!!!!
Laurel: Boo!
Christopher: Nash rented out my flat for Christmas, and he got here just as everything went to hell, so now we’re both stuck here. I let him have the bed seeing as he travelled from LA and needed the sleep.
The brief silence in the chat is broken by Ambrose sending strings of confused and excited punctuation.
The pair of them are a demonic duo and know just how to wind him up.
He just hopes they don’t tell Kit and Haf before he can.
Not that he needs to, really. There’s nothing much to tell . . . right?
Ambrose: i think i’m dying
Ambrose: Iphy are you in an ‘only one bed’ situation with a film star and opting to sleep on the floor
Christopher: Couch actually
Laurel: Cheese and rice, Christopher. That sofa is far too small to sleep on! You’ll ruin your back, and you’re exceptionally grumpy when you don’t get a good night’s sleep.
Christopher: No I’m not.
Ambrose: you are
Laurel: You are.
Ambrose: I am going to walk to Wales and slap some sense into you. brb
Christopher: Why has iphy caught back on? I hate it.
Laurel: They’re quite right, though. Isn’t he the one you’ve been lusting over for weeks?
Christopher: I wouldn’t say lusting.
Christopher: He is very attractive in person.
Laurel: I’m a bit concerned how quiet Ambrose has gone. Do you think they’re really walking to you?
Christopher: Maybe we need to say something they can turn into innuendo to summon them back?
Ambrose: in your endo haha
Ambrose: don’t worry, i’ve never voluntarily walked anywhere in my life
Ambrose: i was just looking up pictures of him
Laurel: I just realised you said he was very attractive, Toph.
Christopher: Sure, but he’s an actor. It’s like saying a painting is attractive.
Ambrose: i have never been attracted to a painting
Christopher: You know what I mean! Most people would find him attractive. It’s stating the obvious.
Ambrose: beauty is but in the eye of the beholder
Laurel: That’s very deep for you at this time of day.
Ambrose: i had a nap earlier
Christopher: I mean, he is very handsome. And he smells good, but I think that’s just because he has rich people shower gel and perfume. It’s probably easy to smell very good if you’re rich.
Christopher: But he’s very irritating. He threw flour over the bakery kitchen.
Ambrose: omg did you have a sexy food fight
Christopher: I was only wearing my underpants.
He’s a little pleased with himself when Ambrose sends another string of capital letters and exclamation marks.
Christopher: But no. The man tried to make a set of weights out of bags of flour.
Laurel: That’s very clever.
Christopher: Except that they exploded all over my kitchen
Laurel: All good ideas need a few drafts.
Christopher: He did fix my van which was slightly better.
Ambrose: a handyman who likes to work out and is also a buff actor??
Ambrose: christopher i need to know what is wrong with you, like clinically but also emotionally
Laurel: If you don’t want him, we’ll have him.
Ambrose: i’m not keen on sharing
Laurel: Fine, Ambrose will have him.
Christopher: I don’t think we can just decide this on his behalf.
Laurel: Ask him then. You can gauge his interest. See if he fancies you as much as you do him.
Christopher: I do not fancy him.
Laurel: You did call him attractive and go through that whole tortured painting metaphor.
Ambrose: you don’t have to be in love with him to take him to bone town
Ambrose: the bone zone
Ambrose: the city of bones, population you
Laurel: indeed
Ambrose: I’d like to indeed that
Laurel: What does that mean?
Christopher: It means that Ambrose is being very uncouth.
Ambrose: I’d like to couth him too
Laurel: I’m positive that’s not a thing.
Ambrose: it is if you try hard enough
Christopher: I am not going to couth him and I’m blocking you both.
Ambrose: you know we’re right
* * *
The one good thing about Ajaxing an entire kitchen is that it really does concentrate the mind. Christopher is on his second or third play of ‘Washing Machine Heart’ by Mitski when he admits the kitchen is cleaner than ever.
When he takes the bins out, he almost walks straight into Nash. He is leaning against the van, pink-cheeked from the cold and face sheened with sweat from the shovelling. It’s probably just because of the conversation he just had with Ambrose and Laurel, but still, Christopher’s stomach flips.
‘You should probably watch where you’re going. You were about to walk into a big patch of ice,’ Nash says. Christopher’s mind whirs too much for him to think of what to say, so Nash continues, ‘No seriously, you were. Right there.’
In front of him is a bit of the drive that is often wet from drain overflow, which has frozen hard. ‘Oh. Thanks.’ Christopher sidesteps it and throws the trash into the bin.
‘Are you going let me in now?’
‘Christ, sorry! I forgot you don’t have a key.’
A playful smile breaks across his face. ‘Nah, I just got here, but it was funny seeing you panic.’
Christopher rolls his eyes, but still holds the door open for Nash to come through. Be civil. Get the cooking done.
Christopher watches Nash shiver as the warmth of the bakery hits his skin, and then as he leans against the tiny radiator he dried his clothes on only yesterday. How was that only yesterday?
‘What were you up to while I was outside doing all the dirty work?’ Nash asks, breaking Christopher out of his reverie.
‘Cleaning up the rest of your mess in the kitchen so we can safely cook.’
‘Oh come on, it can’t have been that bad.’
Christopher resists rolling his eyes again, just about. ‘It’s a commercial kitchen, Nash. I have rules that—’
‘I take back the warning I gave you about the ice. Can you go back over there and fall on it? Bonk that big head of yours?’ Nash laughs, and Christopher is pretty confident he’s going to sustain some kind of ocular strain from all the eye rolling that this man provokes in him.