Rentboy (16 page)

“Let him go, you filthy chav.”

As the words fell from Eddie’s lips, Baillie released Fox so abruptly that he fell to the ground. From his hands and knees Fox caught sight of Eddie looking quite comical in his Jackie Chan stance. Though he was taller than William Baillie, who was six feet, his arms looked like matchsticks by comparison.

The halo of light cast by the nearby lamppost was sufficient for Fox to clearly see his father’s scarlet face. Someone was going to die, and it couldn’t be Eddie. “Eddie! Run!”

Stupidly brave, Eddie stood his ground. Even with his black belt he was neither as fast nor as vicious as William Baillie. He didn’t have the killer instinct to go with his skills. The combination was lethal, and Baillie had it. With one kick to the groin, Baillie felled Eddie before grabbing Fox again to continue dragging him across the park.

In what seemed like only seconds, Eddie was behind them again, and this time he was ready. With one swift karate chop after the next he engaged Baillie in combat. Terrified for Eddie’s safety, because no matter how hard he fought Baillie would win, Fox screamed, “Eddie, stop.”

The moment of distraction was enough for Baillie to get Eddie on the ground and pin him down, sitting on his chest with his forearm on Eddie’s throat. “Keep away from my lad, you frigging arse bandit.”

Terror shot through Fox’s muscles when he saw Eddie’s eyes begin to bulge. “Sir, please stop!” Fox screamed.

Amazingly William Baillie obeyed and withdrew his arm from Eddie’s throat. He stood up and grabbed Fox calmly by the arm as though he had not just tried to kill a man.

With effort Eddie sat up, one hand holding his throat, the other going into his trouser pocket. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “This is madness. I’m calling the police.”

“Eddie, no, you don’t understand.” One of his lies was about to be exposed, but he had no choice. “He’s my dad.”

Shocked, looking back and forth between them, Eddie said, “But you said your father was dead.”

“Did you tell him I was dead?” Baillie demanded, shaking Fox like a mother dog shakes a bad pup. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I wish you were,” Fox said clearly.

Stabbing his finger at the air in Eddie’s direction, Baillie shouted, “Stay away from my son, you fucking homo.” Just to drive home his point, he released Fox long enough to kick the phone out of Eddie’s hand and land another in his midsection.

Not even out of breath, Baillie dragged Fox across the park by the back of his shirt. The Lexus was illegally parked on York Terrace. Baillie pulled out his keys when they were ten feet away and clicked the locks. Only when he had the car door open did he release Fox, shoving him in the passenger seat. Once he was comfortable in the driver’s seat, he backhanded Fox in the face. “I’m going to kill you when I get you home, boy. What did I tell you about seeing that queer again?” Whenever William Baillie was enraged, his face grew impossibly red, and he sprayed spittle everywhere. “Do you want me to kill that fucker?”

But Fox knew his father had no intention of killing Eddie, at least not until after his gang of thugs had everything they wanted from him. “No, sir.”

They were stopped at a traffic light when again Baillie’s hand flew out, the thick knuckles catching Fox on his right cheekbone. Blood spurted from the wound. With the edge of his kilt he dabbed at it.

“You will not see him again. Are we fucking clear?”

Pain screamed through his head. “Yes, sir.”

The beating began as soon as they walked through the front door.

The first person Fox saw when he entered the printmaking studio five minutes late was Nik sitting at her usual station. The station beside her, usually his, was empty. With a pathetic attempt at avoiding her, he skirted the classroom to find a vacant table, hoping she had not seen him, but several times during the class she turned round to look right at him. At the end of the hour she got up and walked between the tables until they were face-to-face. She grabbed a chair and swung it round like a cowboy in a saloon to straddle it.

“’Bout time you showed up. Where’ve you been all week? And what the hell happened to your face? You missed studio. You missed art history.”

Still avoiding her gaze, Fox said, “Got busy. Isn’t it a bit warm for the hat?”

“It’s my signature. Like your emo attitude is your signature.”

“Fuck off.”

Several other students turned to watch them when her voice rose. “I won’t fuck off! My brother has phoned my mobile twice a day since his birthday, lamenting the fact that he hasn’t heard from you and has no idea how to find you. Then two nights ago he told me you were both attacked in Regent’s Park by some bloke in camo that you identified as your dad. Is it true?”

“You think Eddie’s a liar?” Fox looked away.

“Eddie has never told a lie in his life. He thinks you live on the street and don’t have a mobile.” When Fox did not answer, she continued. “You don’t live on the street, and you do have a mobile because I’ve got the number.”

“You didn’t give it to him, did you?”

“Not yet. Why did you lie to him?”

“Why do you live in a squat and talk with that cockney accent when you have a wealthy family who speak very far back?” he mimicked Eddie’s accent on the last three words. “We’re both liars, so don’t point the finger at me, mate.”

Nik’s cheeks pinked up at the accusation. “I’m not a liar,” she said more quietly. “I just want to be someone else for a while.”

Fox looked at her this time. “Me an’ all.”

“But your lies are hurting my brother. Eddie’s lovely. He’s always been a good brother to me, even though I used to sneak into his room and steal money from his trouser pockets.”

Fox said, “Yeah, he’s been good to me too.”

“Then at least have the honesty to tell him the truth. Whatever the truth is. What exactly is it? I’ve never seen where you live, and you told me the twins were five or something when they’re nearly fourteen. Where did you meet him, Eddie?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“No. He just told me you live on the street and the twins live with your mum and her boyfriend and the boyfriend hates queers and your dad is dead. A war hero. So who the fuck was the ghost who beat up my brother in the park? And he looks like he’s had a go at you since.”

Fox’s last sight of Eddie had been of him struggling to sit up, barely able to speak. “Have you seen him? Is he all right?”

“I’m meeting him tonight to find out. Who was the camo dude?”

“My dad,” he mumbled. “He’s not dead. I just wish he was. I don’t want to hurt Eddie, but I can’t see him again. I was going to tell him at the park, but I bottled it.” How could he tell Eddie his father had sent him out to whore himself for some scary doctor and some Ugandan bloke who looked like Idi Amin?

“If you don’t fancy someone, then you don’t have to go out with them, but phone him, for God’s sake. He’s really worried about you. And he’s confused about the dad thing. He’s got no idea he’s been dumped. Eddie may be a genius when it comes to science, but with people he’s retarded. He trusts everyone.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

“If you haven’t phoned him by the time I meet him tonight at seven, I’m going to tell him everything I know about you. Which, now I come to think of it, isn’t that much.”

* * * *

Memories of the evening Fox had taken him to the Tofu Factory and they’d been thrown out for causing a disturbance made Edward smile involuntarily. Gingerly he touched his fingertips to the split above his left eye. His black eye from the attack in Russell Square had barely healed, and now this.

Looking around the busy restaurant, Nik said, “How did a Pot Noodle freak like you find out about this place?”

“Fox brought me here.”

Sitting across the table from him, Nik wore her rainbow Andes hat with a skimpy T-shirt and ripped-at-the-knee jeans. “Isn’t it awfully hot for the hat?”

“S’pose so.” Grabbing the top, she pulled it off. Edward gasped. His little sister with the golden brown hair was sporting a do reminiscent of Sinéad O’Connor in the ’80s.

“Good God, Nik. Mum and Dad will have myocardial infarctions when they see you.”

“Is that Eddie-speak for a heart attack?” She ran her hand over the quarter inch of hair remaining on her scalp. “My mate in the squat did it last night. I really like it.”

Still in shock he muttered, “I suppose it matches the nose ring. But really, Nicoletta, what were you thinking?”

“Not too much at the time. I was a bit stoned.”

A well-built man in a white apron approached the table with a pad and pencil in his hand. “You again?” He looked directly into Edward’s eyes. “You’d better not cause any trouble this time.”

“No, no, I won’t,” he stammered. “Sorry about that.” He ignored the question in Nik’s face. “I’ll have the Thai rice bowl with curried tofu. And a glass of white wine.” Last time he hadn’t got to eat it.

“I’ll have the same,” Nik said. The man walked away without writing down their orders. “Eddie, what the hell did you do here?”

“Nothing, really. It was Fox. Speaking of which, I haven’t heard a word from him since Utopia. I mean, Regent’s Park.” That night had begun so beautifully and ended so weirdly and painfully. “I hope he’s all right. I should have called the police, but it took me twenty minutes to find my phone, and they were long gone.”

“Was that when you got your shiner polished?” She nodded at his eye.

“Mmmm. It’s been two days, and before that it was more than a week. He said he’d been busy. He doesn’t have a mobile, so I have no way to get hold of him.” The wine arrived promptly, making them pause to take a mouthful. But when Edward looked at his sister again, she was looking down into her glass. Nik rarely had a thought that she did not express at once, and even Eddie, who was hopeless at reading body language, knew something was ready to burst forth. “What? Have you seen him?”

Nik nodded. “I saw him in class today.”

“In class? What do you mean, in class? In your classes at UAL?”

A long sigh escaped her. She sat up straight, looking him in the eye. “I told him to phone you. I told him if he didn’t that I was going to tell you everything, and obviously he hasn’t.”

“Tell me what?”

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I should have told you on your birthday at home. I’ve met Fox before. I was shocked to see him at the farm. I had no idea he was the bloke you were going out with. You never mentioned his name.”

Stunned at the revelation, Edward waited. The food arrived, but he didn’t even look at it.

“He goes to University of the Arts London. He’s in my college, Wimbledon, and we’re in several classes together.”

While Edward took in the information, Nik, who would not lose her appetite during a tsunami, began to eat. With another slug of wine inside him, Edward watched his sister for a minute. She finished a mouthful and put her fork down. “All right, Bro, here it is. Brace yourself.”

Eddie remained silent while Nik spoke.

“He doesn’t live on the streets, I’ll tell you that much, and I’ve no idea why he told you he did. He arrives at school clean and fed. And he does have a mobile and a laptop. Not to mention the fees for UAL, which are not cheap, as you know. Even if he got student assistance, he’d need an address and a bank account. So he lives somewhere.”

Edward’s appetite fled along with his sense of self-worth that had been building steadily since meeting Fox. Sitting back in his seat, he pushed his bowl away. “Why did he not tell me the truth? Why make up such a stupid story?”

Nik lunged into her rice bowl once more. “How did you meet?” she asked with her mouth full.

The last thing he intended to do was tell his little sister he had paid Fox for sex, then had his computer stolen by him. He was already humiliated beyond measure. After grabbing his wineglass by the stem, he downed the remains. “Why would he lie to me?”

Nik finished her rice and tofu and took a large drink of her wine. “Eddie.”

“Oh, don’t call me Eddie. It reminds me of him.”

“I’ve always called you Eddie,” she whined, looking slightly hurt.

“Sorry. You’ve been calling me Bro just lately. Only Fox calls me Eddie these days.”

“Bro,” she said. He forced a smile and waited. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I’ve been avoiding saying this. You’ve always been a great brother.”

“Even though you used to steal money from my trouser pockets?”

“You knew?”

“I may be an idiot where people are concerned, but I’m not a complete fool.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You always looked so smug afterwards. It was quite sweet.”

“Eddie.” Reaching across the table, Nik grabbed his hand.

At that moment the burly cook came over and stood with his hands on his hips. “Changed your sexual preferences, have you? No longer consorting with male prostitutes?” Without waiting for an answer, he took Nik’s empty bowl and walked away.

“Male prostitutes?” Nik asked, clearly confused.

“It’s a long story,” Edward said, praying she would not push it. “Just get on with it. What do you know that I need to know?”

In a jumble of words said so quick Edward just barely caught them, Nik said, “He’s broken up with you. He told me on Saturday evening before your birthday dinner. He thinks you’re too old. He wants to play the field a bit.”

It took a while to sink in. Fox had broken up with him. Anger took over. “Then what the hell was that in the barn after dinner? Our Hardian scene?”

“OMG! You’re kinkier than I ever thought possible. Male prostitutes, sex in the barn. I hope the horses weren’t watching.”

“Nik, please!” It was just a joke to Fox. Edward was a joke to Fox. “He said that? He was going to break up with me?”

Nik nodded, squeezing his hand in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting but just made him feel pathetic.

“Yeah. He said as soon as you got back to London he’d tell you. I don’t know why he waited or why he saw you again.”

“Neither do I. He gave me no inkling that he was dissatisfied with the relationship. I thought he was happy. I was deliriously happy. Do you have his mobile number?”