James moved inside, where steam immediately enveloped him. He lifted the seat as he sensed Tony turning in the shower, unzipped his pants as he saw the man’s flesh in the corner of his eye, and locked eyes with Tony as the older man drew back the shower curtain.

‘You’ve got a pretty good left hook on you, mate,’ his cousin said, throwing a mock punch at James, getting water down his front. ‘Are both doors shut?’

James nodded.

When James woke, it was the tight sense of panic at the base of his stomach that reminded him of everything.

They’d struggled for a few minutes in the bathroom, fighting against the shower curtain, and James’s clothes had been spattered in water as Tony tackled him out of them. Then came the hot, wet mouth that had made its way over James’s entirety.

But Tony had stopped, his eyes boring into James’s, stark with warning, and James had sensed the silence being demanded of him. In answer, he’d brushed a hand over the back of Tony’s head, and Tony had allowed his great, beautiful bulk to rest.

Yet his cousin had paused a second time, listening like an animal, and turned the taps off to be sure. The house had lain unaware, like an adjacent country beyond a barrier.

He’d sighed, and smiled, and buried James’s penis inside his mouth.

The pattern had repeated for most of the night, and they’d slept in fitful embraces on one narrow single bed, Tony caressing James like he did his dogs, tousling his hair.

Once, James had woken with Tony’s weighty arm around him, the snoring right in his ears. Boldly, he’d kissed his cousin on his open lips, boozy breath escaping, and tenderly touched the raw scar of the buck’s night accident. The eyes flicked open, and there was a tussle as Tony had awoken to the reality, before searching out the intimacies all over again.

In the light of the early morning, the unworn pyjamas were still on the chest of drawers, but the morning suit had disappeared. James put out a hand, feeling for his cousin, listening for him, but the world was silent.

Eleven 2005

ELEVEN
2005

James parked the hire car outside Leong’s store and as he crossed the road, he could already see the police station was now open. He took the stairs two at a time and pushed through the door into the reception area, making the young officer behind the glass screen look up.

The face was familiar, and habit drew James’s eye to take in the name tag. The best way to question cops was to let them know you could attribute anything they said to an individual, and reception constables were the softest target. Once he’d committed this one to memory, he looked into the fine young face of Constable Samuel Bailey.

‘Yep?’ the officer asked, not standing.