he could see the whole room reflected in the glass. He studied them, picking out those he knew and all the strangers. There stood Dave Tyson, holding a plate full of exotic nibbly things. Kevin appeared in the doorway, gesturing to David, who made his way over. They spoke briefly, Dave nodded in his direction, and then Kevin walked towards him. Frank was briefly surprised by the expression he saw on David’s face – decidedly unfriendly – but then he remembered Milo’s judgement. David really was jealous of ‘the Golden Boy’. He wondered why David hadn’t been at the funeral.
‘There you are!’
Frank smiled at Kevin then turned back to the view. ‘Here I am.’
‘Not being very sociable, are we?’
‘Sorry, Kevin. I don’t feel up to it. I find it hard to accept that he’s gone. I keep thinking he’s going to walk in, ask what all the fuss is about and demand that we crack a bottle of Bollie.’
‘Well, I did get Bollinger, in his memory.’
‘Yeah, it’s a great wake. The sort of thing he’d have liked.’
‘Yes, I thought so. I wanted to make it just right. It’s a pity…’
Frank waited for the rest of it. His gaze was fixed on the river below.
‘It’s a pity you couldn’t be here, before.’
Silence.
‘He was so proud of you, you know.’
Still no response.
‘He felt like he’d done a Cinderella job on you. Picked you up, a grotty little runaway, trying to steal his car, and seven years later you left to find your fortune.’
‘I didn’t leave him. Not like that. It was time to move on.’
‘I know, Frankie. I don’t mean to sound so angry. But being here, by myself, was hard. Watching him-’ Kevin faltered; stopped. He took a deep, trembling breath and Frank knew he was close to tears again. ‘David wasn’t so satisfying a… project… for him. He’s terribly wilful, and he doesn’t have your depth.’
‘Not all of Steven’s “projects” were worth his time.’
‘That’s why he was so proud of you. You’d really achieved something. It may not be international fame, but you moved on. You made your own choices and you did something you wanted to do with your life. You didn’t take advantage of him, like some of the others did.’
‘He-’ Frank caught his breath, ‘Kevin, I’m sorry, but I can’t, I’m not-’
‘Oh, I know, love, I know. You and I got the best of him. It’s hard. I know you would have been here if you’d been able to.’
Frank nodded miserably. He’d have been here if he hadn’t been such a shit-scared little coward. How come Cinderella never had to live through her fairy godmother being taken apart, a piece at a time, like a disintegrating rag-doll?
‘Anyway,’ Kevin continued, ‘In part I wanted… Did you know the terms of Steven’s will? No? Well, the house and everything, I have a life interest in that. He’s left a bequest for you – ten thousand. He wanted you to make a record with it, or CD, or whatever it is these days.’
‘Wh-? Jesus, you mean… Did he mean with Milo?’
‘It’ll take a while to finalise – I’ve never been an executor before – but that’s what he wanted.’
Frank nodded, stunned, feeling unworthy.
‘And after I die, you get the house.’
Frank blinked. ‘But you’re-’
‘A life interest. Mine for my lifetime. Then it goes to you. I said you were his favourite.’
No wonder David’s so pissed off with me, thought Frank. And I was too gutless to come back for him.
The long pause was broken at last by Kevin. ‘I like your boyfriend.’ He smiled indulgently. ‘He’s charming. Very attractive.’
This brought an answering smile. ‘Yeah. Most talented musician I ever met too. He can play anything with strings on it.’
‘Steven would have liked him.’
‘I’m sorry they didn’t get a chance to meet. We always meant to come back, then Steve-’
‘You’ve been with Milo for, what, a year now, is it?’
‘Nearly a year and a half.’
‘That’s a record for you, isn’t it?’
‘You make me sound like a slut.’
‘That’s right, yours tended to be few and far between, didn’t they?’
Frank cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘You’re fishing for something, Kev, and I’m not sure what it is.’
Kevin laughed. ‘I just wondered. Steven and I were very happy for twenty-five years, and I thought-’
‘I don’t know.’ Actually, Frank could see it. Milo was – well, not perfection, but damned nearly. He felt comfortable with himself when they were together – just the right amount of togetherness, just the right amount of freedom. They made a good team, musically, sexually, in their personalities. The idea of being with Milo a quarter of a century from now was appealing, but he didn’t know how Milo felt about that. He realised he’d been silent too long, and with a wry smile said, ‘It’s not only up to me, you know.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Kevin patted him on the shoulder. ‘I should get back to the others. I wanted to tell you about the will. I’ll talk to you later about it.’
‘Yeah.’
‘And, Frank?’
‘Kev?’
‘He knew why you didn’t come back. He missed you, and when he was afraid he got mad. But you didn’t forget him – all the calls and letters. A lot of others disappeared. He understood that you were frightened too. He wanted me to tell you that it was okay.’
Frank’s heart was hammering, and the view through the window was an indecipherable blur. The effort of holding back the tears made his lungs burn. ‘It wasn’t okay. I should have come back. I let him down. And you.’
‘It wasn’t a good thing to see him die, Frank. It’s not a good way to remember him. In the end he was glad you hadn’t come back.’ Kevin kissed him on the cheek, brushed a stray hair back, and let his hand smooth down Frank’s hair to the nape of his neck. Frank shuddered, but he wouldn’t let the tears go.
‘You’d better take him home.’ Kevin stood aside as Milo appeared beside him, a bottle of scotch in one hand.
‘Sure. Mind if we take this?’
‘Be my guest. Come back later, tomorrow or the day after. We can
