“But I feel better just now in this car,” he said. “I like your boyfriend.”

“I was waiting for it,” Pablo said. “I was wondering when you would begin.”

“I mean he’s cute. Do you think he’s cute, Jack?”

“Yes, I do,” his voice was deadpan. He spoke as though he had considered the matter for some time. I could see Jack’s face in the rear-view mirror, he was smiling.

“He doesn’t look very Argentinian. We were hoping he would look Argentinian. But he’s cute. Jack thinks he’s cute. I think he’s cute.”

“You’re about to cross the line,” Pablo said.

“And he’s quiet. I like that,” Mart went on.

They were surprised when they saw the house.

“Is this really where you live?” Mart asked. He put his hands to his face. “Golly,” he said. Pablo and Jack took the luggage from the trunk. I began to tell Mart the story of how I came to rent the house, but he was not listening.

“This could be wonderful,” he said. “Jack, come and see the living room. This place really has potential.”

Jack came into the room and held Mart from behind and swung him around playfully. I realized that anyone could see them from outside and I thought of going upstairs and lowering the curtains. But I stood there watching. I had not spoken much since they arrived.

“You really could do a lot with this place,” Mart said. “It is a most beautiful situation.”

“I like it as it is,” I said.

“You should see the place they have in San Francisco,” Pablo said. “There’s nothing left to chance.”

“Well, I think it’s important where you live,” Mart said. “Now, I am going to lie down here. I am the patient. I want Jack to unpack. I need water, pills, a pillow, and maybe a thermometer. I like the view, but I could do with some color on the walls, and I would change the light fittings. And I probably need a doctor too. I need Jack to call my hospital and ask them who looks after boys like me in this city.”

“I’ll do everything you want,” Jack said. “I am the guy who stuck with his boyfriend through thick and thin.”

“You want thick and thin? He’s lying just here,” Mart moved into an obscene pose. I had to remind myself that I did not care who saw him through the window.

They spoke some of the time in a sort of movie-talk, which always made Pablo laugh, and then they moved back into normal speech without any warning. When Mart did not speak, when he lay back with his eyes closed, for example, he looked really sick. I wondered how long he had to live. Pablo must have known how sick he was; I was upset that he had not told me. They intended to stay for a fortnight. I had thought they would go on excursions, spend some time at the pool, but it looked now as though they would stay here.