CHAPTER TWO
The ride back to the hotel was done in virtual silence. Nikolas looked very tired. Ben was just hungry, but that made him feel incredibly guilty, as he knew he ought to be thinking about something far more important than his stomach.
“We may have been followed from the restaurant.”
Ben glanced across at him and shook his head. “No, we weren’t. I’d have seen a tail.” Nikolas nodded, seemingly too tired to argue. To be sure, Ben got the driver to drop them a few streets away from their hotel at the entrance to Grosvenor Square gardens, and they waited, partially concealed, to see if anyone else stopped. When he was sure they were clear, Ben began to walk toward one the benches, far enough away from a streetlight so they could sit in darkness. He eased himself down and waited for Nikolas to join him. Eventually, he did, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, although it wasn’t cold. Ben said nothing. He just waited. Eventually, Nikolas sighed. “For God’s sake, say something, Benjamin.”
“How old is he?”
Nikolas turned his head sharply. “That’s it? That’s what you say, after all that?”
“Well?”
“I’ve no idea. How would I know how old he is? He’s fifty-eight, I believe. Why do you ask this?”
Ben shrugged. “So when you met he was…your age.”
Nikolas frowned. “I was nineteen. He would’ve been about thirty-five or six. Why these questions?”
It was Ben’s turn to frown. “Nineteen? I thought―So, you were still in prison when you met?”
Nikolas stood up abruptly. “I’m not comfortable sitting here. We’re too exposed. We should walk.”
“Your leg okay?”
“Yes, of course. I told you. All better.”
“That was one of your worst attempts to distract me, by the way. So―”
“This is all an old story. It’s not relevant.”
Ben stopped and caught at his arm. “Not relevant? You have to be kidding me. I was the only one at that table tonight not back in Russia playing out old games. Tell me.”
Nikolas shrugged his hand off and continued walking. “Gregory was Narodnyy Komissariat Vnutrennikh Del—you call it NKVD?”
“The gulag guards? You were in a gulag? Christ, Nik…”
“He was assigned there. For conducting of the executions. But he knew my father—had worked for him—and he…took a special interest in me. When things began to fall apart, he was recruited for more specialist work, and he took me with him. It’s all very simple and a very long time ago. Shall we return to the hotel now? My leg is hurting.”
Ben ignored this. “And, so, what? You were…together for twelve years? Before you…faked your death?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It wasn’t like that together. You make all things in your own romantic image, Benjamin.”
Ben caught his arm again, this time not allowing Nikolas to shake him off. Nikolas turned to him, his face stony for a moment, but then he closed his eyes and put one hand to the back of Ben’s neck. “What do you want me to say, min skat? I told you once—you’re the only man I’ve ever willingly given my body to.” He laughed ruefully. “Until tonight, you were the only man I ever kissed.” He shook Ben slightly then opened his eyes and stared at him. “You try to make comparisons for things that can’t be compared. He was food, and he was safety. For a while, he was the life raft I clung to in a furious ocean. You are the conscious choice of my heart. Now, please, I’ll admit I’ve deliberately lied to you about one thing, my leg isn’t fine and it hurts. A great deal. Can I please be allowed to return to the hotel and lie down?”
They walked slowly back together, both deep in their own thoughts. As soon as they got into the room and had greeted Radulf sufficiently, Nikolas went to the phone and ordered a wide selection of room service meals, without consulting Ben. He only commented dryly, as he replaced the receiver, “You didn’t eat. I was more worried by that than the psychotic Russian at the table.” Ben began to smile. It turned into a laugh. He caught Nikolas around the waist and, ignoring his protests, fell with him onto the bed. They lay on their backs, side by side, contemplating the ceiling.
“So, good meeting then.”
Nikolas chuckled. “I don’t know, and I’m the one who speaks Russian. I think he’ll go for it. He wants it desperately. I don’t think he went there tonight to agree. But when he saw me, he realised he wanted what I represent—what I have.”
“I think he saw you and wanted you.”
“He said that to anger and embarrass me and to get a reaction from you. Take no notice.”
“Are you going to tell me what he told you at the end? The part I was deliberately excluded from?”
There was a discreet knock at the door, and Nikolas pushed at Ben’s arm. “Please. I’m too injured to rise again.”
Ben gave him a look as he stood. “That leg is beginning to get very convenient.”
“Can a leg ever not be convenient? What a strange mind you have, Benjamin.” Nikolas managed to sit up and limp bravely to the table where Ben unloaded the food.
Ben gave a sigh of relief and began to work his way through from one end of the selection to the other. He pushed a plate across to Nikolas. “You eat something.”
Nikolas nodded and actually began to eat an apple. “He wants another meeting. Just us—him and me, and he doesn’t want you there. That’s what he said.”
“That isn’t going to happen. Why wouldn’t he want me there unless he’s got some unpleasant plans for you? I was just sitting there saying fuck all.”
Nikolas’s eyes came slowly back to him. The expression in them was unbelievably sad. “Benjamin, everything said and done tonight was about you. From the moment he saw us from across the room. Everything.” He cast his gaze down for a moment as if trying to work out what to say then continued, “Imagine in twenty years time we meet again and haven’t seen each other since this moment. I look around for you and…you’re there with…”
“Me.”
“Yes. I think it threw him badly. He wasn’t…you didn’t see him at his best.”
Ben was having a hard time ignoring the clear contradiction between this and Nikolas’s previous claim about the emotional depth of his relationship with Gregory. Rather than challenge Nikolas, which Ben knew was a complete waste of time, he replied testily, “I don’t want to see him at all. I want the fucker dead.”
Nikolas didn’t reply to this. He put down his half-eaten apple and went to lean against the window, apparently watching the dark sky with total concentration.