Tony moved fast and took the boy’s hand.

James closed his eyes, waiting for the rest of Tony to lean onto him, but the hand just squeezed, and squeezed.

‘You’re hurting me,’ James said, trying to wrench free.

Tony formed a fist and pulled his arm back. ‘If you tell Leanne, or anyone...’ he said, letting his fist hang in the light.

Twenty-Three 2005

TWENTY-THREE
2005

As soon as James found a place where Tony’s Ford would fit safely by the side of the road, he stopped, got out, ripped open his trousers in desperation and pissed into the deep ditch by the fence.

But the sound of his stream startled him. It was not a ditch he was straddling, but a watercourse sliding past in the near total darkness. Another step and he’d have fallen forward over the tall stands of grass that screened the river from the road.

This long night carried a scent of risk. A stolen vehicle. A lustful stranger in his car. A near silent pitch into dark water. James exhaled and pushed against his pubic bone to empty his bladder, zipped up, and backed carefully away from the edge, feeling the water seep through the sides of his shoes.

Back in the glow of the car radio, he reached for his phone. Dylan would still be up. Flicking it open he saw the large number of texts, most of them from his boyfriend, the last only minutes before. Further down the list, they started getting desperate.

Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?

There were two earlier calls from his father, and three from the same unidentified number, probably the car hire company.

He looked at the clock on the dash. It was approaching nine o’clock. Dylan would be pissed off. He hit the number and waited. Four rings, then four more. His partner was making him wait.

‘Hello,’ came Dylan’s voice, eventually. ‘Where are you?’

‘I dunno, nearly at the coast,’ James said. There was pop music playing in the background. ‘Where are you?’

‘Out. I went to the airport and waited for three hours,’ Dylan said, coldly.

‘I missed my flight.’

‘You did,’ Dylan said. ‘How was the funeral?’

‘Well, it-’

‘Actually, I heard all about it from your aunt. I found her number and called a few hours ago. She couldn’t tell me what you were up to. She didn’t even know who I was.’

‘Listen, there’s stuff I have to do, at the coast.’

‘Say again,’ Dylan said, the music pulsating.

‘Are you in the city, or near home?’

‘Well, I thought I may as well hit the town, with my wayward boyfriend on the run.’