Chapter Fourteen

As agreed, Spencer met Prince at Tooting Broadway Tube station around Saturday lunchtime. Sitting shotgun in Prince’s black Mini Cooper Countryman, he had been tasked with navigating using his mobile phone routefinder app and the hand-drawn map Blake had provided to get them to the remote venue. Bev already sat in the back with Prince’s good-looking cousin Nile, who had his earbuds in and nodded a sullen welcome to Spencer without removing them. Bev shook her head slightly, a silent communication to leave him be.

“Who has a playlist?” asked Spencer, trying to lighten the mood. “For the journey. To get us in the mood?”

“I made one dedicated to Blake and this whole day,” said Prince, grinning in the rear-view mirror. “It’s got Anywhere But Here by Easton. Road to Nowhere by Talking Heads. Creep by Radiohead and sung by Brian Justin Crum. Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper singing Shallow, and Billie Eilish with Bad Guy—”

“How about Katy Perry singing Ur So Gay?” asked Bev.

Prince leant forward and barked out a laugh, his breath misting the windscreen.

“Bev!” said Spencer sternly, turning in his seat. He felt bad admonishing them about him and Blake, but they had been sworn to secrecy. He’d always assumed nobody he worked with knew about them. Prince’s comment had been a shock revelation and he hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since Friday about how many other people knew or suspected.

“Relax, Squirrel,” said Bev from behind. “We’ll both behave. And if you’re worried about Nile, he’s not even listening.”

“She’s right,” said Prince, grinning. “Mind you, Spencer, don’t you think Blake comes across as a bit gay at times? I’m sure he was hitting on me at one of our staff drinks.”

“Well, he’s getting engaged to a girl now,” said Spencer. “Case closed.”

“Closet case, you mean,” said Prince, roaring with laughter and setting Bev off.

“Prince!” said Spencer.

“What are you laughing about?” asked Nile, who had removed his earbuds.

“Nothing,” said Bev and Prince in unison, before falling into fits of giggles again.

Spencer leant forward and put his head in his hands.

 

* * * *

 

Fortunately, nobody stopped them along their journey. Prince had opted to head southwest before joining the M25 heading north, guessing that traffic would not be heavy. Once they’d left the motorway the roads to the north of Beaconsfield shrank seamlessly from broad metropolitan to narrow rustic, into a confusing maze of tight B-roads. Right now they hurtled down a serpentine country lane.

“Slow down, Prince,” said Spencer, checking the paper map. “There should be a left turn up ahead, but it’s not showing on my phone app.”

“How close are we?” asked Prince. He was a good driver, kept his eyes fixed to the road and generally drove at a speed that ensured the comfort of his passengers.

“According to the satnav? Eight minutes. Although we’re also currently driving through a field according to the device. Good job Blake gave us these typed-up directions.”

They almost missed the lane, which was concealed by overhanging bushes. Bev managed to spot the flaky signpost nailed to a tree trunk for the New Horizons Rehabilitation Centre.

A ten-minute crawl down the lane and the Moresbys’ country residence came into view, a vast modern farmhouse set in the middle of acres of farmlands. Accessed by another private route, itself virtually hidden by overhanging trees and towering hedgerows, the Moresbys’ home stood isolated and secluded.

As instructed, they parked up farther along the lane in a covered car park designated for rehabilitation centre staff and visitors, where other cars were already parked. Once out of their Mini, they followed Blake’s instructions along a covered pathway leading them back towards the farmhouse, but stopped before they reached the home. A sign pointed them to the end of a massive old barn.

“The fuck?” said Prince, staring up at the place while Spencer reread the instructions.

“Are you sure this is it? Blake would never allow this. I know it’s Christmas, but surely they can’t be holding the party in their bloody stables!” said Bev, pulling a face.

He couldn’t blame her. She had splashed out on a new outfit, a scarlet strapless cocktail dress that she had on beneath her black raincoat. Her matching slingbacks sat in the small carrier bag dangling from her hand. Spencer had seen a picture she’d sent him from her phone—from what must have been the shop—and she had pushed the boat out today, even having her red hair styled for the occasion. As usual, she looked amazing.

“The instructions point to the entrance on the south side,” said Nile, taking the lead.

When Spencer looked back and studied the whole arrangement, he realised what the Moresbys had done. If a police helicopter were to pass overhead there would be no sign of any untoward activity. The cars sat concealed beneath coverings, the path to the barn was under a covered walkway. Only the short walk along a concrete way skirting the building was exposed to the elements.

A vestibule with large double doors had been built onto the awning on the south side of the barn, and inside someone met them and took their temperatures followed by their names. Once this had been done, and after confirming they had all arrived in the same car, they were given a rectangular number tag in red plastic for their coat and phone check. The woman also pointed out the digits on the reverse—eighteen and fifteen.

“We will come and notify you ten minutes before but you will need to leave at this time. We want to make sure large groups of people don’t depart together and potentially draw attention to the location. If you need to leave earlier, please inform us at the door.”

“I thought the party finishes at ten,” said Prince.

“For close guests of the couple only. Others are politely requested to leave earlier, at their allotted time,” said the woman, stony-faced.

“Nice. Really nice,” said Beverley, glaring at the woman. “Do you know how much I spent on this dress?”

“Please feel free to take the matter up with Mr Moresby junior.”

Once inside, and just beyond the threshold, all of them stood frozen to the spot, gaping at the wonderland. The whole A-frame interior had been decorated beautifully with simple white lights and silver pennants hanging from exposed beams. More white lights mixed with silver had been wrapped around the barn’s columns, a theme continued onto each of the tables. Ten round tables with white tablecloths and white seats spaced generously apart from one another filled the central space. At the same time, one of the aisles contained tables crammed with chafing dishes, the other housing a long bar already staffed by white-jacketed waiters. Even the floor of polished teak must have been laid specially for the event, and Spencer noticed with a smirk how all windows had been covered with thick blackout curtains. Unsurprisingly, the Moresbys had thought of everything.

“Follow me, please, and I’ll show you to your table,” said one of the attending staff.

Spencer’s group was led towards a table containing other staff and partners from the magazine, including Muriel’s personal assistant, Alice, and her husband.

“Is this the naughty table?” asked Spencer as he took the seat next to her.

“Because if it wasn’t before, I think it probably is now,” said Bev, sitting on the other side of him and making Alice’s husband laugh.

Spencer looked to the head table of six where Blake and his fiancée sat in the middle, with Blake’s sister Beatrice and someone who appeared to be the youngest of Ambika’s brothers at the end. To Ambika’s right sat someone he assumed to be her sister followed by the older brother. Blake—as unsmiling as ever—caught his eye and nodded, something Spencer returned equally formally.

“He’s molten hot,” said Bev, leaning into Spencer and following his gaze. “Ambika’s brother, I mean.”

“Which one? They both are,” whispered Spencer.

“Yes, but the younger one has that brooding Mr Darcy look about him.”

“Steady, kitten. We haven’t even had a drink yet.”

“I was checking him out for you, not me.”

Drinks soon came, along with an introductory speech by Ambika’s older brother once most of the guests had arrived. After he finished, a band started playing gentle music while, one by one, each table was invited to collect a food tray from the buffet table.

Before Spencer knew what had happened, the hour pushed five.

“Spence. Keep Nile company, will you?” said Prince as he dragged Bev out onto the dance floor. “He’s being a miserable little gay boy.”

“Fuck you,” said his cousin, flipping Prince off. Prince simply grinned and moved into the crowd of revellers, dragging Bev behind him. Spencer could see the slight family resemblance, although Nile’s face had softer edges than Prince’s and a gold hoop through the left nostril. But both looked after their bodies, and both had muscled chests and pecs even though Nile’s frame was slighter, leaner. Both fitted into their trousers nicely, although Nile had a tattoo on his dark skin peeking up from the collar of his tight white shirt.

“How do you know my cousin, then?” asked Nile. He hadn’t spoken a word during the journey, or the whole time they’d been in the barn, except to his cousin. Spencer assumed he didn’t want to be there.

“We work together.”

“Bit of a wanker, in’t he?”

“Prince? No, he’s all right, actually. One of the good ones.”

Nile appeared to like the answer and turned to smile at Spencer, whose heart did a little happy dance at the intensity of his perfect rows of white teeth.

“Sound like you know his bird really well.”

“His bird? I didn’t know he had one.”

“The one we came with. The one in the car? Thought she worked with you too.”

“Beverley? They’re not—” began Spencer, beginning to chuckle until the penny dropping was more like a comet hitting the ocean. “Wait. She’s his girlfriend?”

“They’ve been going at it for a couple of months now.”

Of course. How had Spencer missed that? Probably because he was so caught up in his own world that he’d missed everything else going on around him. But everything made sense now. Bev late on Monday mornings then Prince showing up half an hour later, Bev choosing Prince as her lunch date when Spencer had to work over lunch. Prince knowing about him and Blake. Blake’s comment about people in glass houses. Everything made perfect sense now.

“Bloody hell. I thought they were just work mates.”

“Yeah. Work mates with benefits. Who apparently go at it like rabbits, if what he tells me is true. She stayed over at our place last night.”

No wonder Beverley had already been in the car that morning. If she had taken the Tube down to Tooting, there was no way on earth that she would have been on time, let alone early. Why hadn’t she said anything?

“Fuck. She’s my best friend at work. And I never even knew.”

Spencer took a tug on his beer and tried to spot her across the dance floor. The band was playing a ballad, and couples now slow-danced together.

“Anyone in your life?” asked Spencer. “Good-looking bloke like you?”

“Split up with my boyfriend a month or so ago.”

“I’m sorry. Just before Christmas. That’s tough.”

“Together three years. All men are bastards.”

Spencer chuckled and Nile turned to smile.

“He dumped you?”

“Other way around.”

“Oh. So that makes you the bastard.”

Nile shrugged. He leant forward in his chair, his head hanging down, his arms on his knees and hands clasped together.

“He wanted marriage and babies, you know? The whole nine miles.”

“Yards. And you didn’t?”

Nile sat up and used both hands to indicate his upper body.

“I didn’t go through all this to end up with stretch marks.”

Spencer burst into laughter. Nile didn’t.

“It’s not a joke. I’m trans.”

“Shit,” said Spencer, feeling mortified at his insensitivity. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. Prince didn’t say anything.”

An uncomfortable silence fell, during which Spencer floundered around for something to say. He liked Nile, found him easy company and didn’t want to offend him.

“Couldn’t you have fostered or adopted instead?” he said, then wished he hadn’t said anything.

Nile scrunched his eyebrows together, considering his words.

“I never thought about alternatives. But yeah, I suppose we could have discussed other options. The problem is I have a bit of a temper, and once the subject was brought up, I shut it straight down. Prince says I have no filter and prefer to tell it like it is. And I don’t tend to be good at listening, either. Once the topic was out there, I knew it would never be far from Tommy’s mind, his wanting to be a father. Tommy’s my ex. In the end, I walked away.”

Spencer understood all too well. He had seen healthy relationships break down because one partner refused to compromise or negotiate their personal agenda and in doing so had ended up losing their soulmate. He hoped Nile and Tommy had not been too quick to judge each other.

“How about you? Any boyfriend or ex?” asked Nile.

“An ex. But just like your boyfriend, I got dumped. Almost two years ago. So I know how that feels. My ex is sitting on the top table right now, the one getting married.”

“Blake?” exclaimed Nile, clearly shocked. “Fuck off!”

“Okay. Shit. I didn’t know you knew him. Forget I said anything, and for goodness’ sake, don’t tell anyone. I am not in the habit of outing people, even bastards like him.”

“Seriously, though?” said Nile, his voice a fierce whisper now. “Blake is bi?”

“Actually, when I first met him, I thought he was gay. But, yeah, I suppose he’s bi. Or pan. Or whatever. But I think he passes as straight these days.”

Nile pulled a disgusted face.

“Does his fiancée know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. And please, don’t go outing him at his own engagement party. Apart from his sexuality being none of our business, I work for his mother and she’d probably kick me out of the company.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed. What happened, then? You’re a kinda cute-looking guy. Why’d he dump you?”

“Cute? I’m cute? Do you know how offensive that is?”

“Told you, I tell it like it is. Come and have a dance.”

“What?”

“Dance with me. Or are you too stuck up to dance with—”

Spencer shot up from his seat, almost knocking his bottle of beer over.

“Bring it on.”

Out on the dance floor, he spotted Prince and Bev slow-dancing close together, laughing at a joke. The look they shared made their intimacy so obvious. Once again, Spencer groaned inside at how he had missed something as unmistakable.

“Kiss me,” said Nile, bringing Spencer’s attention sharply back to him.

“What? I’m not kissing you. I’ve only just met you.”

“You don’t think I’m hot?”

“Of course I think you’re hot. I think you know that already.”

“So it’s because I’m trans?”

“No!” said Spencer, flustered now. “I mean, maybe. I don’t know.”

“What do you have to lose? Indulge me.”

In the middle of the dance floor, Spencer stared at Nile for a few seconds, but could see he was serious. What the heck, he thought, the man is seriously good-looking. He brought their lips together, closed his eyes and kissed. Maybe he was dreaming, but as he closed his eyes, there seemed to be a quick burst of light. But that was all. The kiss did absolutely nothing, a little like when his grandmother had pecked him on the lips as a small child. When he opened his eyes again, Nile was grinning at him.

“Nothing from this side. How ‘bout you?”

“Not really,” said Spencer. “I mean, no offence. I’m sure you’re a good kisser.”

“The first time I kissed Tommy, he got a boner. Rock-hard. And my insides turned to jelly. I wanted to fuck him right there and then. All bets were off after that. You ever had that happen to you?”

Spencer thought back to Marshall kissing him and smiled. When he closed his eyes, he was right there in the moment with Marshall again, feeling his heat and smelling his body.

“Yeah, I have.”

“And?”

Spencer opened his eyes.

“It’s complicated.”

Nile’s gaze shot out across the room.

“Blake?”

“No! God, no. Not Blake. Blake didn’t like kissing.”

“You never told me why he dumped you.”

Spencer huffed out a sigh. He tried not to autopsy their time together, especially after how low he had sunk. Only later, hearing gossip from Bev and others around the office, had he learnt that Blake rarely stayed around long. Hopefully Ambika would be a turning point.

“I think he got bored with me. And honestly, there wasn’t much to keep us together. Not really. Not like you and Tommy. Sounds to me like you two were made for each other.”

Nile pulled away to gape at Spencer, who simply shrugged. As far as he was concerned, if Nile could dish it out, then he could take it.

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” said Nile.

“I, too, tell it like it is.”

Nile chuckled, but then fell quiet and looked down the floor.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Not my place to say. But from what you tell me, he sounds perfect.”

“Yeah,” said Nile, nodding. “Yeah, I need to do something about that. He’s stuck in Dublin right now with his family. He went to see them in November and now he can’t come back until things get better here. I need to reach out to him, though, to see how he is. See if there’s anything worth salvaging.”

“Your call.”

“It is, yeah,” said Nile. “Thanks for being honest.”

“It’s a specialty of mine.”

“Listen. You’re in Morden. I’m stuck in Tooting for the foreseeable future. We’re only four stops from each other on the Northern Line. How about we catch up sometimes? For drinks or a meal, once things open up? I could do with someone other than Prince for conversation, who only ever talks about computers and Beverley. Neither of which interest me. And I promise never to ask you to kiss me again.”

Spencer laughed. In truth, he could do with more friends. He enjoyed Nile’s frankness and welcomed the idea of having someone fun to see outside of work, someone to entice him out from the sanctuary of his flat at the weekend.

“I’d love that.”

Spencer noticed Bev and Prince approaching, leaving a safe platonic distance between each other. Prince waved the red plastic tag in front of them.

“We’ve just had our fifteen-minute call. We need to get going soon,” said Prince.

“Are you getting your thang on with Nile?” asked Bev, grinning wickedly and winking at Spencer.

“No, we’re not,” said Spencer, raising an eyebrow at Bev. “Unlike you and Prince, we’re just friends.”

Bev’s grin melted from her face, while Prince grinned and looked away.

“I told him,” said Nile. “Sorry, cuz. I didn’t realise you two were still under cover.”

“Not much of a cover,” said Spencer. “Dancing and kissing at the boss’ son’s engagement party for all to see. Why didn’t you say anything, Bev?”

“Because she was worried about you,” said Prince, chipping in. “Worried about the relationship crap you’ve been through lately. She’s happy—we both are—and she didn’t want to rub that in your face.”

“It’s true,” said Bev, looking sheepish. “I was going to say something when I came to your place on the day you were sick, but you had company. And then, when we had coffee yesterday and you told me about Marshall, and then about your brother, I decided to put off telling you until later. Are you mad at me?”

How could he be mad at her? She was one of the few people who cared about him. Instead of answering, he pulled her into a tight hug.

“Of course not. I’m really happy for you both. You make a fantastic couple.”

“We do, don’t we?” said Prince. “Now get your arses in gear, before they throw us out.”

Leaving through the main doors with the party still going strong, Spencer and his group emerged into darkness. Frost had begun to pepper the ground. As they ambled back to the car, Spencer looked around and listened, but could only hear the sounds of the night.

He had to hand it to Blake and his deviousness. Nobody passing would ever be able to tell that an illegal party was in full swing inside the darkened barn.