The Devil's Trill Sonata (15 page)

Jayden coloured. “No, he doesn’t, Ella, honestly, we’re just friends, and anyway, Jonathon knows I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“That’s why he hasn’t
said
anything; he told me that too,” Ella insisted and unfolded. “I have work to do. Want me to come in here and we can study and swear at our essays together?”

“Okay,” Jayden said and as she flitted out, texted Darren:
Essay-writing now with…

He paused. Amended it. Sent it.

Essay-writing now :) Talk later, love you xxx

* * * *

Rachel was waiting when Darren got home from work. They’d missed each other the day before—he’d come back from Jayden’s too late to catch her before she went out with her sister—but she’d texted him halfway through his shift asking him to bring beer home. Well. ‘Asking.’
IT’S NEW YEAR PIZZA AND BEER NIGHT BIIIITCH :D
she had informed him obnoxiously, and he’d narrowly avoided laughing in the middle of a speech by one of the brass about personal discipline and integrity. Still, he knew better than to argue with Rachel, and dutifully presented himself at her door half an hour after getting off shift with a six-pack of Stella.

“Riiiiight on time,” she said, dragging him by the tie (he was banned from taking the time to change unless he was in a state. It had been her October diktat), and pushing him towards her battered sofa. “How was Christmas? Lots of food, presents, and alcohol?”

“Pretty good,” he admitted. Cambridge and wine and Carlsberg aside, it had been. Seeing Jayden again was always good. Getting his sex life back, albeit briefly, wasn’t something to complain about either. “And yeah, pretty much. Yours?”

Rachel flushed up to her hairline. “Well, um,” she fidgeted. “You know…what I told you before?”

“Specifically?”

“About me.”

“
Specifically
,” Darren prompted again. She talked a lot if he wasn’t feeling chatty. He knew a lot of things about Rachel, from her preferred brand of tights to her least favourite class at the school. To her bra size, for some reason. He grimaced. Bloody hell, he’d become someone’s gay best friend.

She huffed, cracking open a Stella. “The
asexual
thing.”

“Oh, that.”

“Mm. You remember?”

“Yeah.” Albeit vaguely. In all honesty, beyond the initial ‘that’s weird’ thought process, Darren hadn’t really cared. It wasn’t like he wanted to shag her.

“Well,” she pinked again, “Tony asked me out.”

“Who?” Darren asked blankly.

“The
music
teacher,” she reminded him, with a punch to the shoulder. Thankfully the good one. “Tall, dark, handsome, wicked beard thing going on?” Oh,
him
. Was Darren supposed to remember the guy? They’d met
once
. “I did go to the work Christmas do in the end. I thought I shouldn’t and it’d be boring, but anyway, I went. And I had a few glasses of wine and I was talking to Tony all night, and then he asked me out.”

Darren sipped at his Stella, toed off his shoes, and said, “Did you say yes?”

Rachel flushed. “Mhmm.”

“Did you tell him about the no-sex thing?” he prompted.

She fiddled with her fingers, picking at her nails. “Not yet,” she mumbled, chewing on her lip. “Should I?”

“Well, eventually. Kind of thing that’s probably going to come up,” Darren suggested.

She huffed and punched him again. “I meant
immediately
.”

Darren thought about it. He’d had time to look around, to think about Rachel’s dilemma, and he’d tried to imagine being that way. Or more accurately, if Jayden was that way, because Darren honestly couldn’t imagine
never
wanting sex. But if Jayden had told him on the very first date…

Well, he hadn’t told Jayden everything up-front either, had he?

“No,” he said eventually, and her shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t tell Jayden about some heavy stuff for a little while. It scares people off. Maybe he’ll be scared off anyway, in which case fuck him, pun wholly intended. But he might decide after a little while you’re worth it, which he
should
, and then it won’t matter.”

She grinned, still flushing, and clanked their cans together. “I hope it doesn’t matter,” she said wistfully. “He’s
gorgeous
.”

“If he’s worth you going
scarlet
over him, it won’t matter,” Darren said and smirked when she flushed harder and hit him again. “Jesus. Abusive neighbour. Seriously, lay off. I’ll have bruises.”

“So? Makes up for your constant verbal abuse,” she sniped and tucked her feet up under herself. “I ordered the usual pizza and garlic bread, and I bought ice cream on the way home so we’re sorted. Pizza’ll be here in half an hour, they said. You came early.”

“Never done that before.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s
always
about sex with you people. It’s so…”

“Speaking of sex…”

“No.”

“My boyfriend’s mother
still
makes up a camp bed for me when I stay over.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yep,” Darren said, suddenly feeling oddly cheerful, like a slice of sun through a storm cloud. “She gave him a bollocking on Christmas Eve because we broke the rules.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you did,” she muttered, wedging her socked toes under his thigh for warmth and wiggling them. It was a weird sensation. “And you’ve been together
how
long?”

“About three years,” Darren said. “And sleeping together for…about three years.”

Rachel sniggered, covering her mouth briefly with her hand, then dropped it and sighed, hugging her knees. “You’re so lucky.”

“Mm?”

“Having Jayden,” she clarified and hunched her shoulders. “Having
someone
. I hate being…I mean, even being gay would be easier. There’s gay girls. Loads of them. But nobody gets this. I hope Tony doesn’t…you know. Mind.”

Darren lifted an arm; she untucked her feet and crawled across the sofa for the offered hug, burrowing into his shoulder and sighing gustily.

“If it doesn’t work out with Tony, can you be my gay boyfriend?” she asked in a wheedling tone, the same one for ‘can I borrow some cheese?’ and ‘you don’t
really
want all that lager, do you?’ “Like, properly? Go on fake dates and everything?”

“You’ll have to negotiate some terms with Jayden on that,” Darren hedged. “And I don’t watch rom-coms in the cinema.”

“Tough. And he can’t complain if we never have sex.”

“I still don’t think he’d be happy.”

“Then he’s a fussy bitch and you should dump him and come shopping and shit with me instead,” she bargained.

“Yeah, but I
like
sex,” Darren said mournfully.

“There’s always chocolate,” Rachel said. “And I’ll let you cheat on me!”

“Meh. Sounds like effort.”

“And coffee. Coffee would help.”

“Eh.”

“You
love
coffee!”

“Not as much as I love sex,” Darren insisted. Rachel groaned and pinched his arm.

“Just be my gay
boyfriend
,” she whined.

“What if your Tony doesn’t care about your asexy fabulousness?” Darren mocked. “What’ll he think then if you have a gay boyfriend on the side? You asexy
slag
.”

“Oh, you…” she started, untangling herself and reaching for a pillow.

Then the doorbell went, and Darren was saved, quite literally, by a stuffed-crust, meat lover’s pizza.

Jonathon had spent Christmas in the Austrian Alps, and came back with a tan formed around ski goggles, his wrist in a brace, and a cheerful demeanour. He arrived later than he’d told Ella, only a couple of days before classes started, but unfortunately that meant that Ella
knew
Jayden had gotten all of his coursework out of the way, and therefore she
knew
he was free to come down to the college bar with her, and she
appeared
in his doorway on the Friday evening with all her hair down and a big smile.

“Jonathon’s here!” she said, clapping her hands. “And he’s got news and we have to go and talk to him, so come on.”

Jayden bit his lip, glancing at his laptop screen. He’d been talking to Darren on Skype for maybe an hour, the longest they’d managed before between studies and shifts, and he toyed with the keys. Darren rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion.

“I’m talking to Darren. I’m thinking of going to…”

“You can talk to him some other time, come
on
,” she insisted.

Jayden chewed on his lip. He
should
go—they teased him enough about shutting himself away in his room to talk to Darren, but after spending Christmas together, he felt lonelier than ever and…

“Come
on
!” Ella insisted.

“Just go,” Darren said, overhearing every word and making an exasperated face. “Get your news. You know where I am when you’re less busy.”

Jayden frowned, but crushed the little swell of guilt. “Okay,” he said. “Love you.”

“You too.”

He shut the laptop before he could change his mind, and was then promptly hauled out of his chair by Ella’s sharp-nailed hand and tugged towards the door. “He won’t tell me what his news is until you get there,” she whined. “Come
on
, don’t be so slow!”

Jonathon was waiting in the basement bar, and he rose to shake Jayden’s hand like they’d never met before. He looked good, in that weak-chinned sort of way: the tan was more fetching than his pallor, and he looked better for a bit of Christmas weight. His hair was a little messier too, a little more
natural
. But the handshake lasted a little long, and Jayden shifted uncomfortably when Jonathon snapped open his wallet and insisted on getting the first round in.

“It’s not…” he tried, but they both waved him off.

“How were your Christmases?” Jonathon tried as they found a table, but Ella refused to be swayed.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “You said you had news, and I want to hear it.”

Jonathon laughed. “Well,” he said as they sat down. “You know how I told you Father had to cancel our annual trip to New York because of the bank?” No. “And how Mother was furious with him and said he had to make it up to Louisa and me?” No. And who was Louisa? “Well, he offered me the conciliation while we were in Austria, which is he’s offered to pay for a weekend trip to Paris for me and a few friends.”

“Oh, my God,” Ella said, grinned from ear to ear, and clapped her hands. “
Paris
?”

“Yep,” Jonathon beamed. “You, Jayden, and me. Paris. A long weekend job.”

“When? Oh my God, when?” Ella clutched his arm.

Jayden stared over his wine glass, his heart having paused painfully. Paris. He’d never been to Paris. He’d never been to France. Or anywhere abroad actually. They’d—well, Mum had—always talked about holidays, but it had never happened, or they couldn’t afford it, or Mum had her cancer scare, or Dad couldn’t get the time off work, and then Jayden had been older and doing exams all the time, and…

Paris.
Paris
. The city of lights, the city of romance, the destination of Northern Europe. Paris! His heart was thumping against his chest again, and in double-time. Abroad. France. The museums and the Eiffel Tower and the food and the nightclubs and the…the…the
everything
. Everything that was Paris. The
lot
.

“I can’t aff…” he began to admit.

“That’s the deal,” Jonathon interrupted. “Father will pay for it all. He’ll reserve the rooms, he’ll pay the tickets, and he’ll give us spending money. The lot. It’s a free holiday.”

Ella shrieked in delight and hugged Jonathon tightly, but his intense eyes were on Jayden instead. “You in?” he asked.

“When?” Jayden said.

“I don’t know yet,” Jonathon shrugged. “I’m waiting for the exam timetable to come out—we have a lot of them scheduled in the economics department, you know—but once it does, I’ll tell Father when I have to study and he’ll book it for afterwards. So, early June, I would imagine, or the Easter break.”

Jayden chewed on his lip, but the grin was already forming. Paris.
Paris
! He’d never imagined actually being able to go—or at least, not this side of thirty, given that his first job would pay crap and Darren’s job paid crap and it just wouldn’t
happen
, not for years. How could he say no? How could he even
think
about saying no?

“Jesus,” he said, and Ella cheered.

“You are
so
in,” she said, beaming brilliantly. “It’s going to be amazing. Jonathon, you are
so
lucky to have a father like that!”

“Comes in handy,” Jonathon admitted, smirking, and raised his glass. “To the promise of Paris, even if we have no bloody details yet!”

“Cheers!” Ella said, and Jayden raised his glass in time for the impromptu toast.
Paris
. Actual, real live, French Paris.

What could be better?

* * * *

“I’ve seen better.”

Jayden turned onto his bed to stare at the ceiling. “Darren, now is one of those times you’re meant to be all supportive and excited for me.”

“Yeah, but it’s Paris.”

“So? I’ve never been!”

“And when you go, you’ll know what I mean.”

“You’re an arse. Look, it was lovely of Jonathon to ask me to go.”

“Mm.”

Jayden rolled his eyes. “Mm?”

It was half past ten. He’d had more than a couple of glasses of wine, but he’d begged off early from the drinking session by pleading he had a class tomorrow. Which he
did
, but he was also bubbling over still with the excitement of getting to go to
Paris
, and just
needed
to tell someone. Unfortunately, ‘someone’ had been watching a film, and had travelled more extensively by the time he was three and a half than Jayden had in a lifetime, so apparently wasn’t sharing in the enthusiasm.