Vanya doesn’t head back to the new place right away after leaving Jason. He wanders instead, like he has so often since arriving in this city, allowing a tide of people who have purpose choose a direction for him. Streams of commuters converge at crossings; Vanya lets another current take him, crossing the street with a whole new group of strangers. As he walks, he imagines how their days contrast to his. One man clutches a document folder to his chest in a way that’s familiar, only this man looks successful, his folder made of supple leather instead of flimsy cheap card.

Another man strides ahead, booming into his phone so loud he gives Vanya brand-new phrases to process. Blue-sky thinking seems to relate more to the weather rather than to the corporate world the man is dressed for, especially as the day has turned grey and cloudy.

He pays attention to his location, much further from home than any closer to it, and he’s grateful for that. Going back while his head’s still full of the last moments he spent with Jason won’t lead anywhere good.

Kaspar will take one look and know that something happened. Then he’ll pry until he gets every detail.

Vanya’s not ready to share.

He walks up a side street instead of facing that inquisition, ending up on a high street that, at first glance, is the same as any other. Shoppers meander rather than hurry. He slows his pace to match theirs, wasting time until Kaspar leaves for his shift, not yet ready to admit to him that something important happened.

He stares blankly through a clothes store window, but his gaze doesn’t linger on anything that might fit him. Instead, it’s drawn over and over towards clothes that would suit a much broader frame than his.

Realisation dawns as he wanders.

He’s still searching for clothes for Jason, even though that’s pointless.

The sigh he lets out is pathetic, and covering his mouth to stem that sound only reminds him how Jason’s lips felt pressed so firmly to his. There’s no point in thinking about how right it felt. It’s not going to happen again, so there’s no point daydreaming that they met for different reasons. He should only think of the money he’s made instead of what might have happened if they’d had more time together. Truly, he should be glad the whole pretence is over. At least now no one will find out that he’s illegally earned some money.

It’s much safer to focus on the future.

Rain is his only real threat today. He dodges showers inside shops, spending longer in a charity shop than in any of the others. No one pressures him to make a purchase in this place that’s full of cast-offs. Perhaps that’s why a necktie catches his eye, reminding him of the first time he saw Jason. This tie is second-hand rather than the very best that Bond Street has to offer, but Vanya tugs it free from a snarl of others to wind it around his fingers. It’s not quite as silky as that first one, and a couple of moth holes dot its ink-black surface, but he digs through the last of his small change to buy it before dashing out into another rain shower.

He’s wet through by the time he finally faces the dark alley leading to the new place.

Vanya steels himself before running down it, his heart rattling as he climbs the staircase. Halfway up the second flight, he discovers it’s not anxiety making his ears ring. Kaspar’s left his phone behind, its ring loud enough to make Vanya run for another reason—this building might be abandoned, but it’s still dangerous to let noise attract attention.

He snatches up the phone from where Kaspar left it, almost declining the call just to make the din cease. The name on the screen stops him. He swipes to answer instead, smile unspooling like the necktie when he drops it. “Jason?”

“Oh….” Jason sounds flustered. “I was going to leave a message.”

“Want me to end call? Can pretend it never happened.” Pleasure pokes at an ember deep inside him, heat suffusing his chest as he speaks. Then another worry chills him. “Finish important meeting already? How did it go?”

“Not quite how I expected.” A sound like running water gets louder as Jason adds, “She’s not what I expected.”

The surprise of the call makes Vanya honest. “Maybe you are different to how she expects too. I’m think there is a lot to like about you. Should stay until she sees that.”

“Huh.” The watery sound in the background fades. “I just took a call from Andrew saying pretty much the same thing, only he thought he was talking to Chantel.”

That’s a lot to unpick. Vanya tests his understanding. “He tells her to give you a chance?”

“Yeah. That’s it exactly.”

A surge of pride at getting that right warms him. “Good. She should give you every chance.”

“Yeah?” The call hangs quietly between them until Jason admits, “She’s nicer than I expected. Down to earth instead of stuck up. I don’t think she actually hates me.”

“Shouldn’t be surprise. You make very big effort. Best effort.”

“I feel like a different person.”

Vanya closes his eyes to replay the moment when he first saw Jason clean-shaven. “Was pleasure to help.”

“Thank you. That’s why I’m calling. I wasn’t sure if I actually said that to you today.”

Vanya sits on one of the couches next to a pile of rental details describing homes they’re so much closer to affording. Each twenty-pound note he’s stashed away is another step towards that outcome, and that’s all down to Jason. His voice is a little thick when he stumbles over saying, “I’m should thank you.”

A sudden urge for fluency has him continuing in Russian. “You have no idea what a difference you’ve made, do you? You don’t have the first clue. Meeting you was a risk I thought I’d regret, but I’m so grateful right now. Your brother is lucky to have someone like you on his side—so lucky—and I wish I had a chance to tell him face-to-face. Someone should let him know that most people wouldn’t try after getting a black eye for being worried.” He’s fervent when he ends with, “You must really love him.”

“What did you just say? I didn’t understand a word!”

There’s no way Vanya can say any of that in English. He closes his eyes, frustrated.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jason says, sounding so close he could be in the same room. “I don’t care what you just said. I just like hearing your voice. I’ve worked with foreign builders for years—Poles and Germans mostly—but there’s something about your accent….” His voice drops in pitch. “I’d like to hear much more of it.”

It’s easy then to continue.

Vanya tells him about his morning, about the tie he bought, wishing aloud in Russian that he’d seen it before his work with Jason was over. He would have asked Anna to help repair the little holes that dot it. She’s so clever with her needle, she could embroider some bees to mask them—black and yellow, just for him—he’d have loved to see Jason wear it.

Then he tells him about the time he’s killed in the library eavesdropping on another storytelling session, and how that would have been part of his job if vigilantes hadn’t used a dating app to trap him.

When Jason hums like he understands him, Vanya wonders aloud how his friends are doing now they’ve graduated. Keeping up with them online would be easy if he didn’t still worry so much about revealing his location.

The same fear keeps him from contacting his mother and sister—what if he brings bad luck to them, like his father promised? He misses them so much, he says, his voice thick again before he thanks Jason once more for the fresh start his money offers. His last words are an apology for using the address he heard Jason mention as a temporary place of safety.

Eventually, he speaks in English. “Should stop now. Must be worst conversation. Very boring. Waste of your time.”

“You don’t bore me.” There’s a loud creak in the background. “And you’re not wasting my time. I was only walking back to the river to shut the gate. Now I’m walking back to the house. I’m going to make something warm for Chantel to eat, and I’ll wait for Andrew to get back.”

“You’re staying?”

“Yes,” Jason sounds surprised to admit it. “Chantel had a bit of a shock before I got here. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Of course he does.

Vanya teases a little. “So brother choose nice girl. Who could have guessed this outcome?”

“Shut up.” Jason huffs. “None of this is why I really called. I… I need to talk to you about what happened before I left.”

Vanya’s heart trips and skitters between beats for a second.

Not hearing from Jason at all would be better than hearing him say their kiss didn’t matter. At least that way it can stay a treasured memory instead of discovering it’s something Jason regrets.

“I need to know,” Jason says before Vanya’s thoughts can spiral.

“Need to know what?”

Jason’s quiet for a moment that draws out. There’s the sound of a door opening and the thud of shoes getting kicked off. Then Jason breathes in his ear, like he holds his phone even closer, and his tone is wary. “Whether it’s something you might want to do again?”

Vanya’s wordless until Jason adds, “Never mind. Forget I asked. I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have—”

“No!” Vanya finally gets out.

“Oh.” Jason’s deflated. “Okay. It’s just that I spent the whole journey down here wondering if you would. See me again, I mean. Of course you wouldn’t. It was a spur of the moment thing for you.”

“No—”

Jason butts in before he can explain. “It does make me feel bad about all the times I told Andrew that seeing someone so much younger than him was stupid.”

Emotion lends Vanya volume. “Should feel bad about that.”

“That’s not what I’m feeling bad about right now.”

“Well I’m think you should. And I’m think you should feel bad about always interrupt me. Should feel bad about never letting me finish.”

“Go ahead,” Jason sighs in resignation.

“Should feel worst for only kissing quickly.”

For once, Jason’s silent.

Vanya closes his eyes, speaking as clearly as he is able. “Next time should kiss for much, much longer.”