Chapter Five

 

 

A MONTH later, after another late finish at the Shepherd’s Bush Old Country restaurant—this time a raucous hen party had kept them busy until after two in the morning—Marcus had happily headed home alone, asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Even as he went under, he resolved to have a slow, relaxed Sunday, which would entail a long snooze-in.

No such luck.

When the mobile phone went off on the bedside cabinet at eight, he was in two minds whether to let the call go to voicemail. Until he reluctantly cracked open his eyes and saw Tom’s home number on the display.

“’Lo?” he croaked.

“Uncle Marc, Uncle Marc,” shrieked Charlotte’s excited voice down the phone. Marcus yanked the device away from his ear. “It’s a sunny Sunday. And Daddy said if it was sunny today we could go to Water Kingdom. They have a Mayday special. But you have to come too. Katie needs to stay out of the sun. But if you come, I can go in the water with you and Daddy can stay with Katie.”

In the background he could hear Tom telling Charlie to give him the phone.

“Melanie at school says they have a new waterslide for us small kids. But you have to be companied by an adult. So can you come, Uncle Marc? Pleeeease?”

Once again Tom’s voice sounded in the background.

“Charlie, give me the phone. And will you please pipe down while Daddy talks to Uncle Marc?”

“Marcus” came Tom’s warm voice as Charlotte continued to call out to Marcus. “Really sorry about that. She speed-dialed before I had a chance to stop her, the little madam. Listen, you don’t have to do this. I imagine you had a late one last night, it being Saturday and the end of the month. And I know you like to sleep in Sundays. There’ll be other days—”

“Give me an hour. To get ready and get over there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” said Marcus, scrubbing a hand over his eyes before resting his forehead on his pale forearm. “Why not? Need an excuse to get moving on a Sunday. And to be honest, I could do with a dose of sunshine.”

 

 

AFTER negotiating the long queue of excited families—seemed as though the whole world had the same idea that glorious Sunday morning—they finally made their way into the theme park. Tom led the girls away into a single-family cubicle while Marcus changed in the communal men’s area. Apart from feeling a little tired, he felt grateful to be able to spend time with his surrogate family in the sunshine and also to road-test the skimpy designer swimmers his staff had bought him for Christmas. Comprised of comic superheroes in vibrant colors, the stretch material just about covered all the bases. After that, he spent a few minutes plastering on a reasonably protective UV factor sun lotion before donning his designer sunglasses and leather sandals. Unsurprisingly, he was ready and waiting a good ten minutes before Tom and the girls finally emerged. Leaning by a tree opposite the changing facilities, rucksack and cooler box at his feet, and safe behind his shades, he enjoyed noticing the passing stares of appraisal of both men and women.

Tom, by contrast—when they finally emerged—had stripped down to knee-length swimming shorts of navy blue cotton that might have been unflattering on anyone else. Fortunately he chose to go bare-chested, so at least Marcus, along with the rest of the water park, had the pleasure of seeing his defined arms and chest, complete with the mat of dark chest hair. Unlike Marcus, nothing about him had been gym-wrought, everything courtesy of his outdoor physical occupation. Shame he didn’t feel the need to flaunt what he had. Maybe Marcus could work on that.

As soon as the two of them were near enough, both spoke the same words at exactly the same time.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“Me?” said Tom before Marcus had a chance to reply. If Marcus was not mistaken, his cheeks had colored slightly. “Indecent doesn’t even begin to describe those—panties. You’re practically naked. Up close I can almost tell what religion you are.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. At least I don’t look like a 1950s soccer player. Exactly how old are those shorts?”

“I’ll have you know these are Fred Perry’s.”

“Then I suggest you give them back to him.”

“Yay, Uncle Marcus. Batman and Superman,” said Charlotte, pointing to Marcus’s swimwear. “And Wonder Woman. Yay. Daddy, you should get some.”

“They’re really cool, Uncle Marc,” agreed Katie.

Marcus lowered his shades to gloat at Tom, which, in return, had Tom grinning and shaking his head.

“I think my point has been made, Grandpa. Now let’s go and find somewhere to set up camp.”

Although Water Kingdom was far from the largest water park in the country, the owners had created an open-air space where families could sit under real trees or on sun beds beneath parasols within easy viewing distance of their brood. More integrated parks had usually opted to house their slides under a large domed roof due to the unreliability of English summers. Water Kingdom sat open to the heavens, with only four towering twisty slides in blues and grays. In a smaller, shallower pool—Treasure Island Cove—they also catered to the smaller children, with shorter slides set amid plastic bamboo shoots and built into waterfalls, sliding down from pirate galleons or carved into models of giant fallen coconut trees.

Even Katie appeared to let go, splashing around in the water, always with her father close by her side. While Charlotte insisted on repeatedly riding the coconut slide with Marcus, after an hour Tom and Katie retreated to the dry shade of the tree where, earlier on, they had claimed a spot and made camp.

“I didn’t want us to overdo it, otherwise Katie gets short of breath,” said Tom, tossing Marcus’s towel to him as they joined them forty-five minutes later.

“Totally understand,” said Marcus, toweling himself down before doing the same to a giggling Charlotte. Once they had finished—the towel draped around his shoulders—and everyone settled, Marcus reached into his rucksack and pulled out some folded-up tartan material.

“Okay. Hands up if you’re hungry?” he said. Of course both girls stuck their hands in the air.

“Because Uncle Marcus has brought a picnic. Charlie and Katie, you’re in charge of the picnic blanket.”

“Marcus, you didn’t need to do that. I was going to take them to the park café.”

“For junk food? Come on, Tom. You know me better than that. Most of this I already had in the fridge. The rest I brought home from the restaurant last night, rather than throw it away,” he said, pulling plastic tubs, plates, and cutlery from his cooler. “Which includes, Mr. Bradford, our very own twist on someone’s favorite dessert cake.”

“You did not bring carrot cake?” said Tom, his eyes lighting up.

“Old Country carrot cake, indeed.”

Later on, with everyone full, Marcus lay on his front in the sun. Tom took the girls to wash the plates and cutlery, and when they returned, they settled back in the shade. Marcus gave the girls one last task: to dispose of the litter in the three recycle bins opposite where they were sitting. He watched them go, holding the shopping bag full of litter between them.

“You’re a real star for doing this,” said Tom. “I hope you realize how much this means to them. And to me.”

“My pleasure,” said Marcus, turning to grin at Tom.

“They think the world of you, you know. Charlie’s always asking me when you’re coming over. Even Katie’s doing so much better at school with your help. And don’t you dare tell her, but that spread was better than anything Mum has ever cobbled together.”

“All I need is a vagina and I could be your next girlfriend.”

Tom went quiet at that remark, and Marcus instantly regretted the words. “Shit. Sorry, Tom. You know I have a smart mouth sometimes, don’t you?”

“No,” said Tom sadly, shaking his head. “It’s not that. Mum’s been on at me to start dating again. She thinks it’s time. Says it couldn’t do us any harm to have a little lady around. Someone to help ground the girls, someone on my arm when I’m doing work socials with other couples, that kind of stuff. I just can’t get my head around the idea.”

At that, Marcus sat up.

At first Tom’s words had him irritated—at Moira’s pushiness, at her insensitivity. Straight on the emotional heels followed a flash of anger quickly replaced by anxiety. Would Tom still need him if he had a new woman in his life? But then Tom had sounded unsure, hadn’t he?

“Then don’t. You’ll know when the time’s right. Get used to having things back on an even keel before you take the next step. Don’t let anybody push you into doing anything you’re not ready for.”

Both men fell silent, watching the girls across the way as they hesitated before deciding which item of litter went into which recycle bin.

“Can I tell you something?” said Marcus, without turning.

“Go on.”

“If I saw you with another woman right now, I’m not sure how I’d feel. Redundant, maybe. Because our combined efforts are finally paying off, and we’re getting everything back on track. And I’m really enjoying being a part of the family again. Shit, does that make me a bad friend?”

“No, of course not,” said Tom, and when Marcus finally turned around, he noticed Tom smiling his understanding. “I know what you mean. And it’s great having you back.”

 

 

EARLY in the afternoon, when Marcus returned from the park shop, bringing ice creams for Tom and Charlotte and an orange iced lolly for Katie, a woman togged out in a one-piece scarlet-with-black-polka-dots swimming suit complemented by an emerald green swimming cap came toward him. She looked like a human strawberry as she waddled away from Tom, waving over her shoulder. When she reached Marcus she stopped, leaned in, and squeezed his forearm. Turning to look back at Tom and the girls, she said one word.

“Adorable.”

The moment Marcus followed her gaze, he smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. Tom sat with his back against the trunk of the oak, a proprietary arm around Katie. Lost in her new book, she sat leaning her back against him. On his other side, Charlotte, as hyperactive as ever, twirled around and around like a ballerina, hands clasped together above her head. Tom watched on, smiling, and leaned in to catch her when she inevitably fell over in a fit of giggles.

“Beautiful family.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re very lucky.”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“You are,” she said, moving beside him. Standing there briefly, she produced a wave that Charlotte returned enthusiastically. “You should be very proud. My son and his partner are talking about adopting. They live in Toronto. But they’re a little nervous about what effect being brought up by two dads might have on the kid. Wish I could magic them over here right now to look at this happy little scene. That would make up their minds in a heartbeat.”

Before Marcus fully caught on to her meaning and could correct her, she shuffled off. Had she thought Tom and he were a gay couple? They did get along pretty well together, so perhaps she could be forgiven for the assumption. Moving forward again, he wondered if he should say anything to Tom or if the remark might go down badly. No, best say nothing, he decided.

 

 

WHILE Tom looked after the girls, Marcus took the opportunity to try out one of the high curly slides. Nobody appeared to be able to pull off a dignified landing, most ending in an untidy mess of spray, limbs, and tangled swimming costumes. Even Marcus had to adjust his swimwear in the shallow waters before exiting the pool.

Letting the sun dry his skin, he took the opportunity to check out some of the men in the park. Most—married with wife and kids in tow—had let themselves go, but a few stood out. Even then, some of those in better shape were far too young for Marcus. In his honest opinion, the best-looking in-shape guy he had spied all day had arrived with him and sat now beneath the tree, reading Katie’s book to her. As if hearing his thoughts, Tom looked up, then smiled and waved at Marcus. Typical, he thought, waving back. The one man he fancied had to be straight, someone he would never get to have. At some point, like Tom, he needed to get out there more and start seeing people. Or at least have another fling. Maybe he should bite the bullet and give Fereddique a call.

“Chef Vine” came a vaguely familiar voice to his left. “Gorgeous as ever.”

Marcus turned to see a blond-haired Adonis approach him.

“Daniel? Dan Mosborough?”

Once upon a lifetime, Daniel Mosborough and Marcus had gone to the same high school. Although they had never been friends—Marcus was too tied up with Raine to bother spending much time with anyone else—both had sensed the other’s difference from other boys in their class, or to be more precise, similarity to each other. When Marcus had bumped into Daniel in a popular gay club in Central London, neither had been surprised. Back then Daniel had been in demand. Slim and in the bloom of youth, he’d had men of all ages fawning over him.

Over time he had filled out. Gym-toned, he had clearly come over to flirt. Marcus had never really been into blonds, but Daniel was more a dirty blond—in every sense of the word if rumors were true—and even though his well-defined chest and thick muscled arms were naturally hairless, his thin tanned legs—a shortcoming of some of his gay gym-bunny friends—boasted a pelt of golden hair. Marcus could see that Daniel rarely worked his legs, so the overmuscled upper body appeared at odds with the spindly legs. Still, Marcus enjoyed the attention.

“What are you up to these days?”

“Just back from holiday. As you can probably tell,” said Daniel, holding his hands out from each side of his waist as if to present the evidence. “Lanzarote with friends. Back to work Monday.”

“And what is it you do now?”

“Still with the Met. Promoted to sergeant last September. Working out of Bromley Police Station.”

“Wow. Well done, Dan.”

“Me? What about you, Master Chef? Been watching you rise through the ranks with great interest. Me and a few of the boys from the station went to your place on Edgware Road. Asked if you were there that night. The girl on duty said you were working at the other restaurant. But everyone loved the food. Maybe one day you’ll cook breakfast for me.”

Yes, thought Marcus, still the same old Daniel.

“Maybe. If you play your cards right.”

“Seriously, though, Marcus, you want to grab a drink sometime?”

Marcus had forgotten the incredible blue of Daniel’s eyes. Had they not been to school together, he might have thought the man wore colored contacts. But no, Daniel had been blessed with amazing looks. And he was a copper now, so no doubt his wild days were behind him.

“Absolutely. Let me go get my mobile phone and get your number.”

“Where are you sitting? I’ll come over to you.”

When Marcus pointed to Tom and the girls, Daniel turned to him, a confused expression on his face. “Sorry, mate. I thought you were still single.”

“I am. That’s Raine Fowler’s husband and kids,” said Marcus, and the instant pained expression that crossed Daniel’s face told him that he need not say any more.

“Bloody terrible tragedy. The poor sods. My colleague was the first on the scene the day it happened. Absolute carnage,” said Daniel, looking over at them briefly before bringing his attention back to Marcus. “And you’ve stayed connected?”

“I’m the girls’ godfather. What else am I going to do?”

At that, Daniel folded his large arms and appraised Marcus afresh. “You know, I always knew you were one of the good guys. You and Raine didn’t have time for me in school, but I remember being jealous of you both, like you were joined at the hip. Everyone but me thought you were dating. Let’s definitely grab a drink soon.”

“Stay here a minute. I’ll grab my phone.”

Marcus headed back to his rucksack and yanked out his phone.

“Who’s that?” asked Tom.

“An old friend.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” asked Katie.

“Katie!” said her father.

“His legs are too skinny. He looks like a rooster,” said Charlotte.

“Charlotte!” said Tom.

“He’s just a friend,” said Marcus, laughing and then winking at Tom. “For now, anyway.”

 

 

WITH them all fastened into Tom’s Ford Edge, they began the hour-long drive back to Tom’s house. Marcus had parked his SUV there so that they could all drive to the park together. Ten minutes into the journey and both girls slept soundly in the back seat, Charlotte secured in her booster seat, Katie next to her. Tom handled the car with quiet competence, ever conscious of driving smoothly so as not to disturb his cherubs.

At first Tom and Marcus listened to a radio channel playing popular music—purposely kept at a low volume—until the news came on. Tom, clearly not a lover of political news, instantly changed channels. On the new channel, once the announcer had finished speaking, Marcus realized they had tuned into a chat show. Instantly Tom snapped the radio off.

“What was wrong with the agony aunt show?” asked Marcus. “Are there any channels you actually like?”

“I don’t mind nonstop music channels. At least I can still think while I’m driving. Not a fan of news channels. And I can’t stand those dial-in chat shows. What on earth possesses people to call in and share their private lives, their innermost secrets, with the rest of the world?”

“Maybe they find it cathartic. Maybe they have nobody else to talk to.”

“Come on, Marcus. Listen to them. That last woman, for example, who was moaning that her husband doesn’t listen to her, doesn’t communicate or understand her. Has she actually spoken to him to tell him the problem as she sees it, instead of phoning in and publicly whinging across the airwaves? These people are way beyond pathetic.”

“Maybe. But some people get desperate. Don’t you think it’s better they voice their concerns than internalize them?”

“Yes, to a professional, not to a bloody disc jockey pretending to be some kind of professional psychiatrist. And then have the rest of the listeners hearing all about your issues and giving their own bloody suggestions. It’s the sickest form of entertainment there is. If you ever had a personal problem, would you dial into one of those things?”

Marcus had to think about that for a moment. “Point taken. Probably not.”

They both fell silent then. Tom’s reaction should not have surprised him. Raine always said Tom preferred to suffer in silence rather than to talk problems through.

“So what’s this guy like?” asked Tom.

“Which—oh, Daniel? He’s okay. Pretty fit, actually. We used to go to school together. He’s a police sergeant in Bromley now.”

“He’s a copper?” said Tom, swinging around to stare at Marcus.

“Yes,” said Marcus, chuckling. “Don’t worry, he was off duty today. And it’s okay to be gay and in law enforcement these days, Mr. Bradford.”

“I didn’t mean—” said Tom, an admission of guilt if ever there was one. “You’ll make a nice couple. Both have no sense of decency where swimwear is concerned.”

“You’re just jealous, Grandpa. And mark my words. One of these days, I’m going to get you into a pair of Speedos. You’d rock them.”

Beside him Tom snorted but said nothing.

“Did you see the woman who came over to talk to us?” asked Tom after a few minutes of silence. “While you were away getting ice creams?”

“Looked like a bell pepper on legs?”

“Actually she was really nice. Chatted with Katie and complimented Charlie on her dancing. Said we were like the British equivalent of a modern family, whatever that meant, and that we ought to be on the cover of something called Attitude. Do you know what that is?”

Marcus couldn’t help the laughter that burst from him.

“What?” asked Tom, turning to look quizzically at Marcus before returning his concentration to driving.

“Attitude is a British gay lifestyle magazine. And when she mentioned modern family, I think she was referring to the American comedy series that features male gay parents and their adopted daughter.”

“She thought I was gay?” said Tom, horrified.

“She thought we were a couple,” chuckled Marcus.

“Oh, I see.” Tom fell silent then, appearing to process what Marcus had said.

“Does that bother you?”

“Why should it?”

But they spent the next thirty minutes of the journey home in silence. Not that Marcus minded. The scent of Tom’s distinctive deodorant or body spray—he had no idea which—drifted across the space. And with only the sound of the traffic to distract him, together with Tom’s soothing driving technique, Marcus soon found himself drifting off to sleep.

Even now, looking back, he had no idea why he opened his eyes at the exact moment the back of a white van appeared from nowhere, broadsiding the passenger side of their car.