Part 8 ~ Thursday 14 April 1994
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Part 8 ~ Thursday 14 April 1994 |
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Ray wasn’t sure what had woken him, but this wasn’t one of those nights – mornings, to be accurate: three-forty by the clock that was always five minutes fast – when he cursed the disturbance and worried about being too tired to think straight at work in too few hours. Cosy in the early morning darkness, devotedly listening to the deep rhythmic breathing of the man who slept with one arm draped across his chest, all Ray knew was contentment. His head was painless, his heart was full, his body was sated. “I love you, Benny,” he whispered, knowing it was safe to say the words aloud now, that Ben would not be roused by these hushed emotions. “Thank you for all of this. I love you.” He didn’t want to be drawn into wondering how this had happened so fast, how one day he could be trapped in an emotional abyss, lost, lonely, desperate for affection, for contact, and the next… Despite how positive he’d needed to be with Ben the previous evening, he didn’t want to think about how he’d be coping, or the alternative, in a few days time without the warmth, the reassurance of Ben’s presence, when he’d be waking up alone despite never wanting to wake up alone ever again in his life. He was frightened to ask himself how he’d managed to survive for so long alone. Or how soon it would be until he gave in to the crushing need and followed Ben to Canada, because being with his lover was as necessary as the air he breathed and he was no longer in any mood to suffocate. Ben shifted in his sleep, murmuring a few soft words which appeared to be directed at his absent wolf. Ray smiled, laid his hand over Ben’s, recalled the agony with which he’d left him in Tuktoyaktuk, the stifling sense of foreboding as he waited for this relationship to be the biggest disaster of his life. But here, now, at four in the morning, he had contentment. “I love you, Benny.” Ben shifted again, moving a little closer, nuzzling Ray’s shoulder. This had been, Ray considered, the longest, shortest week of his life. And, all things considered, probably the best. Dead father, live Mountie. No probably about it: definitely the best. … “I have to go to the house today, see if I can be of any help with the funeral arrangements.” “Can I come with you?” Ben asked. That brought Ray up short. “You want to?” “I’d like to. I don’t suppose that I can be anything more than moral support, but I’d like to accompany you.” “Well…that’d be great. I have to go to work for a while first…” “Can I come with you?” Ben repeated with an easy smile. “Sure.” Ray felt a curl of concern in his gut, wondering if this was the day he’d out himself simply because his feelings for Ben were so strong he’d somehow broadcast the news to all of his colleagues. Stan had blatantly hinted at this happening. Stan. The curl uncurled marginally as he thought of Stan’s determination to understand the situation, and then of Elaine’s friendly acceptance. ‘You going public?’ Stan had asked, assuming that Ray was brave enough to do that. Well, was he? Was he indeed… He was distracted from his thoughts as Ben’s arms encircled his waist and the increasingly familiar body pressed close against his back. “I think it’s clean, Ray.” “Mmm?” “That plate. You’ve been washing the same one for a solid five minutes.” “Oh, right.” Ray handed the plate over to be dried, regretting the fact that the task took the Mountie away, albeit less than six feet. “Benny… Does everyone know you’re gay?” Ben thought for a moment. “Since I’ve been in Tuktoyaktuk I’ve never tried to hide it. I made that decision when I went there because, up until then, I’d been wary of people knowing, especially at work. But Tuktoyaktuk was a fresh start. I knew I was a good officer and that’s what they wanted; if they had any objections to the way I lived my life, tough.” “Have people been difficult?” “On the whole they’ve been very accepting. There have been occasions when some ass or other has resorted to name-calling, but I’ve never been victimized over it.” “People here would be less reasonable, you think?” “I don’t know. You’d have to be the judge of that.” “Stan’s an exception. If everyone was like him it’d be easy. Or easier.” “Don’t make any decisions yet about who to tell. If anyone.” “I’m not happy pretending I feel nothing for you.” “You’re keeping your feelings private. That’s different.” “So you don’t care if we’re with other people and I treat you like, what? Just a friend?” “We are friends, Ray, and there’s no ‘just’ about it. Whatever else you’re feeling may be quite potent, but our friendship is nothing less than a miracle to me.” “I didn’t mean to dismiss it,” Ray assured Ben, “I know how special this is. Us, I mean. Everything.” Ray gave up and went to Ben, taking his face in soapy hands and kissing him. “I can’t seem to find the right words. Please don’t let me screw this up.” Ben ignored the wet fingers pushing through his hair and smiled at Ray. “Want to be late for work again?” “I can’t,” Ray insisted, losing a fair measure of conviction as Ben’s hands slid down his back and over his buttocks with an affectionate squeeze. “Welsh’d be so pissed with me.” Ray resolutely pushed away from Ben and went back to finish the breakfast dishes. “You know I want to let this take over my life. I’d spend every minute of the day and night with you if I had any choice. When this case is over I could take some time off – I’ve got plenty due – and come to stay with you, and we—” Ray’s voice caught in his throat as Ben was at his back once again, hand slipping around into the rapidly unfastened fly of his pants. “Uh, Benny…” “Tell me no and really mean it,” Ben breathed into Ray’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. “You’ll ignore it. You love to ignore it, you think I haven’t figured that out?” Ben chuckled and Ray shivered again, leaning back and letting Ben do exactly as he wanted which, luckily, was exactly what Ray had decided to want too. “Hey, Ray…” Ben purred. “Mmm?” “Can I come with you?” … Stan glanced at his watch as he re-entered the Station House having finished interviewing a couple of Joseph Vecchio’s more prominent enemies, operators who were inclined, in their own words, to ‘throw Stan a bone’. That put him on his guard from the get go, and he was glad he’d taken advantage of Ray being late that morning to sneak off and do this alone. Initially it was due to wanting to relieve the pressure on his partner as the funeral approached. Now, however, Stan was hoping to have missed Ray again because his head was a mess with what people would and wouldn’t tell him. And just when he seemed to be getting somewhere, it all shut down. He was being played for sure. Played, but there were one or two discordant throwaway comments that made his hackles rise. As if he was being told something significant without being told and, minus certain context, he was missing the relevance by a mile. It disturbed him to the extent that he didn’t want to share any of these problematic hints with Ray, even choosing to selectively exclude certain observations from the entries in his notebook so Ray wouldn’t find out that way. As he walked into the squad room the first thing he noticed was the Mountie, out of uniform but still conspicuous, sitting at Ray’s desk, typing with what looked to be frightening speed and accuracy. He cursed, knowing that Ray wasn’t going to be too far away. Then he stopped and considered: Fraser was the ideal person for him to talk to: the investigating officer from Canada but also someone who, Stan now cautiously admitted, would be likely to put Ray’s best interests first. It was all about the timing. “Coming to the house this afternoon?” Stan leapt out of his skin as Ray’s voice broke into his thoughts from behind him. “Shit, Ray!” “Sorry.” “You will be when you’re visiting me in the ICU.” “Why so jumpy?” Stan shrugged, looking plain shifty. “What’s wrong? Where’ve you been?” “Nothin’ and nowhere,” Stan snapped defensively. “Okay,” Ray backed off in surprise. “I’ll take that as a no then.” “No. It’s yes. Definitely. Why am I going to the house this afternoon?” “You told Maria you would.” “I did. And I will.” “What is wrong with you?” “Nothin’ is wrong with me!” Stan took a deep breath and headed for his desk. Ben looked up and smiled hello before going back to what he was typing, leaving Stan positively disorientated, wondering when they had got to the ‘I am visibly pleased to see you’ stage. Ray was in pursuit, however casual. “You seem…rattled.” “I am not rattled.” “Can hear you rattling from here,” Ben muttered under his breath. “Where’s the file?” Stan demanded. “Which one?” “Joseph Vecchio.” Stan pawed through the stack of files on his desk. He looked up when he sensed Ray standing opposite him, file in outstretched hand. “You have something?” “Just routine stuff to update, nothing of interest.” Ray was about to ask for more when Stan delivered the ultimate barb. “Nothing to get out of bed for.” It worked brilliantly: Ray turned away uncertainly, face flushed, eyes full of hurt. He went and sat in the guest chair at his desk, picking up his notebook and blindly flicking through the pages. Stan felt the Mountie’s stare but ignored it, immersing himself in his own work. Yes, it had worked brilliantly, he’d headed his partner off at the pass and he wasn’t going to have to answer any awkward questions or be badgered into telling Ray things he really didn’t need to worry about. Cruel to be kind. Sure. Ah, shit. At two-thirty Ray went into Welsh’s office to discuss the funeral with his boss; Ben cursorily tidied the desk before heading over to Stan, seeing the slighter man tense as he approached. “If you can’t tell Ray, are you going to tell me?” Ben asked with an eerily scary intensity. “What?” “I can see straight though your act, Detective. Especially when a taunt at Ray’s expense wounds you equally.” Stan considered making an argument of it, but his guilt made him feel vulnerable and as transparent as the Mountie suggested; he peered past Ben, checking out if Ray was still occupied with Welsh. “If I get a chance, okay?” Stan hissed under his breath. “But I don’t want Ray to get suspicious, this is nothing I want him to know.” “Understood.” “It’s probably nothing to do with— Hey, Ray, we going?” Ray hesitated as he passed Stan’s desk, unable to look at his partner, equally as guilty, equally as transparent. He went to fetch his coat, shrugging it on and then handing Ben his leather jacket. “You coming with us or you taking your own car?” “I thought I’d…” “Fine. Let’s go, Benny. See you at the house, Stan.” Stan watched his partner walk away, stopping for a few words with both Elaine and Huey, presumably about the arrangements for the morning. As other detectives stepped up to express their condolences it was fascinating to watch the interaction between Ray and Ben and anyone intruding on their space. However subtle the body language, the Mountie was protective, sometimes possessive, and Ray was exploiting it, taking a half-step in Ben’s direction when he felt crowded, instinctively knowing that, as a stranger, Ben was more difficult to move in on, and, despite the undisputable charm of the man, he had that don’t fuck with me attitude which underscored his entire character. Stan wondered if that had ever been him, if Ray had ever taken the half-step in his direction. Funny what you didn’t know, didn’t notice. A movement caught Stan’s eye and he looked around to see Welsh beckoning him. The expression on the big man’s face was grim; Stan took a deep breath and headed for the office, intuitively knowing that the next big setback was about to make its debut. … Fifteen minutes behind the Riv, Stan’s GTO rolled to a halt
outside the “I want to apologise, you were absolutely right, I’m not pulling my weight here…” “No, Ray, I was totally outta line, you’ve not done a thing wrong…” “I’ve been leaving you to do everything…” “You did the worst of it alone. I didn’t go with you to “That wasn’t up to you, and I know…” “Then I went away the minute you came back …” “That’s important! If it wasn’t for the undercover work you get I’d be holding you back…” “But I can’t function without you there and…” “I’m sorry, Stan.” “Me too.” “We okay?” “We’re okay.” “Okay.” “Okay.” Ben waited patiently until the two cops ran out of breath. “Okay?” he asked. “Okay,” they chorused. The three men turned in the direction of the house. “This place gives me the creeps,” Ray admitted. “It takes everything I’ve got to walk in the door.” “He’s gone,” Stan reminded him. “That old bastard won’t ever hurt you again.” “You think?” Ben put a firm hand on Ray’s elbow and began to guide him up the path, Stan a step behind. “You have to get through this, Ray,” Ben told him decisively. “You have to get Joey buried so you and your sisters have a grave to dance on.” “You can be so nasty,” Ray accused, but the tone of his voice had lightened considerably. “Look at you and butter wouldn’t melt, but underneath…” “You love it.” The front door opened as they approached and Maria came out onto the porch to greet them, welcoming Ray with a fierce embrace. “I didn’t think you were ever going to get here.” “How bad is it?” “Four aunts, three uncles, eight cousins, sixteen assorted kids belonging to who knows. Everyone else is coming tomorrow.” Maria gave Ben a warm smile before hugging Stan. “Come on in.” Maria returned to her brother, taking his hand. “After all, it’s your house now, Ray.” Ray visibly paled. “God, look at you. If you’re going to pass out, do it in your own hallway.” Inside the house Al appeared within seconds, arms open. “Ray, Sweetheart, come to Uncle Al. He’ll take care o’ you.” And, just as Ben and Stan were thinking fat chance, Ray did exactly that, responding to the familiar words and heading for Al like he had a thousand times as a kid. As Ray was fussed and petted and ushered away by Al with Maria in anxious pursuit, Francesca appeared from the direction of the kitchen. “Good to see you, Stan. Sergeant Fraser.” “Ben, please.” “Ben,” she smiled. “There’s food, drink, help yourselves. Stan, find Rachel and introduce yourself, she’s perfect for you.” “Gimme a break, Frannie.” “Be single for the rest of your life then. See if I care.” She jerked her head in the direction she’d seen Ray go in. “You and him though. Don’t blame me for the rumours.” Stan grinned and Francesca reciprocated, bustling away at full speed and approaching full volume as a bunch of kids charged through to the kitchen. “Rumours?” Ben asked quietly. “See, she just started one. Don’t pay any attention.” “I won’t,” Ben said coolly, giving Stan a fresh once over. “Don’t look at me like that! You think Ray would like you looking at me like that? Looking at me at all?” Ben smiled. “Shall we find Rachel?” Having seen very little of Ray all afternoon, Stan and Ben found themselves together again, Stan with Rachel’s number in his pocket, happily unaware that Ben had politely but firmly turned it down. “Know what bothers me?” Stan asked as soon as private conversation was possible. Ben looked a question. “The way they’re keeping Ray away from Al.” “And Al away from us. I noticed that,” Ben agreed. “Maria was perturbed that Al took Ray away when he got here and soon managed to separate them.” They smiled in unison as one of the aunts passed by, then drifted out into the garden where they were only in the company of several boisterous children who were too preoccupied to even notice them. “The atmosphere’s kinda…freaky.” “There’s a funeral tomorrow.” “I know the family, Fraser, there’s something…” “Freaky?” “You got it. Did we miss something? Could Al have done it?” “His alibi is sound. There’s nothing to indicate he had an accomplice.” “And nothing to say he didn’t.” Ben thought for a moment. “Is this in any way related to why you were so troubled when you came back from your interviews this morning?” “Oh, yeah. These guys I spoke to, obviously got an axe to grind, but they claimed they’d heard things that put both Frankie and Charlie in the picture. Who’s the schmuck being lined up to take the fall while those two scheme in the background?” “Al, clearly.” “And it’s only ‘cos he’s too stupid to keep his head down that he wasn’t successfully set up for Joey’s murder.” “Ray will take it very hard if it turns out to be Frank Zuko. He’s convinced it’s nothing to do with him.” “Then for Ray’s sake, let’s hope he’s right. And if that’s the case, maybe it was nothing to do with Charlie either. If it was nothing to do with Charlie, we have to look at who else Al would be acting for. He’s loyal to the point of idiocy, but only to a select few.” They glanced over as movement caught their eye: Maria, calling in a couple of the children. She looked over and smiled before ducking back into the kitchen. Stan let out a slow, painful breath. “And that’s who Al would die for.” “I’d rather not jump to the obvious conclusion…” “You and me both.” “…but there are difficult questions we need to ask.” “Those questions… You want to tell Ray?” The Mountie’s brow crinkled as he dissected that proposal. “He must have his suspicions, even if he hasn’t admitted it to himself. It’s only a matter of time before he does.” “This is his family, Fraser. You shoulda heard him tear into me when I checked them out the first time around.” “But you did check them out?” Ben confirmed. “Frannie and Marco had come down with food poisoning a couple of days prior, Maria was looking after them. Doctor confirmed it, family friend visited on the day of the murder: good alibis, but whether they had ‘em or not, Ray’s not gonna go there.” “If they’re alibied we’re missing at least one other person who would act on their behalf.” “The whole family is rotten on Joey’s side, and everyone hates everyone else. They wouldn’t even need bribing, they’d kill Joey just for the satisfaction. Want me to start looking?” Ben looked surprised that Stan would leave the decision to him, but the answer was easy. “Ray will find out if you do, and as you say…” “Kaboom.” “Quite. If it turns out to be necessary, make it a last resort. Meanwhile, we don’t discuss this with anyone. If, during your general enquiries, you find evidence that implicates Al in some kind of conspiracy, we’ll decide where to go from there.” Stan scoped the vicinity before dropping his voice. “I know I shouldn’t even be thinking this but… If it is Al you wanna make it go away?” “Depends who the other party is. Al betraying Joseph will shake Ray to the core, and if I can protect Ray from that I will. Do you have a problem with that, Detective?” Stan saw the dangerous glint in Ben’s eyes, but this time it made him a happy man. “I have no problem with that. See, I think Joey got what he deserved, only thirty-odd years too late. There were times I was tempted myself.” “Well, I’m glad you didn’t do it.” “You are?” “As far as I can see Joseph Vecchio did two particularly good things in his life. He had a son…” “And he died in your precinct.” “Precisely.” Stan let out a deep breath, looking up at the house to give himself something to focus on other than the Al Caruso merry-go-round. This gothic horror screamed Joseph Vecchio at him in the creepiest, crawliest way, so God only knew what it did to his friend. With a shudder he shrugged off the negative mood. “Think we should rescue Ray?” “From his family?” Ben asked, only slightly less incredulously than he would have ten minutes previously. “Oh, yeah.” Stan took a few steps toward the back door then stopped and turned back to Ben, a wicked grin transforming his features. “Want to get one over Joey?” Ben waited. “Get Ray to give you the guided tour, find the old guy’s bedroom, remember to lock the door…” At least Ben had the decency to look surprised; Stan had been worried there’d be no reaction except for either the inscrutable expression or the evil eye. “The house is full of people…” “Which only matters if one of you is a screamer,” Stan insisted, the mischievous grin widening. “Or both.” “Even if Ray was willing, surely if there’s any chance his sisters…” “Maria was telling me what a mean bastard Joey was when it came to Ray, the kind of threats he made, what he’d say, and – well, if I hadn’t known about Ray his own sister would’ve outed him, put it that way. Maria knows, and if Maria knows, Frannie knows, and it obviously ain’t a problem. If they know about Ray, seeing the two of you together… Well, let’s just say it doesn’t take rocket science to figure it out.” Stan watched Ben mulling it over and went into innocuously helpful mode. “It’s like a rite. That’s a R-I-T-E rite. Although it is also a right. R-I-G-H-T. I mean, it is his house, he has rights.” “I meant to ask about that. His father left it to him rather than Maria and Francesca?” “Don’t change the subject. Get in there and rescue him.” Ben thought again, fixing the cop with an appraising look for the second time in hours. “You really don’t have a problem with Ray and me.” “No. Now, will you…” Ben gave a genuine smile and left to search for Ray. Stan took his time following, arriving in the hallway in time to see two sets of heels disappearing up the stairs. After a moment Maria was at his side. “Did you remind him to lock the door?” “Uh-huh.” “Twenty dollars says Ray will freak out and be back in five minutes.” “You don’t know this Mountie.” “Is he a nice guy, Stan?” Maria asked with open concern. “I think so.” “Does he care about Ray? Really care?” “They’re mad about each other,” Stan told her without hesitation, mildly surprised by his level of certainty. “It’s only been a week.” “I know,” Stan murmured, recalling the recently disclosed details of Ray’s lonely life. “But it’s been twenty years in the making.” Maria linked her arm into Stan’s and squeezed, leading him away to the living room. “So… How about Rachel…” … “I really don’t want to be in here, Benny.” Ben drew Ray into the master bedroom, standing close to the door and turning the key in the lock behind his back. “It’s very impressive,” Ben observed. “Illusions of grandeur,” Ray snorted as he gazed around at the luxurious wall covering and rich fabrics that adorned the room. “Did he really think paying two-hundred dollars for a roll of wallpaper would make him a better man? A four-poster bed would win him respect?” Ben went to the dresser, looking at the vast collection of framed photographs. “There are several of you here.” Ray glanced at where Ben was. “Come away from there, let’s get out of here.” When Ben showed no sign of moving Ray crossed to him, irritable and antsy, snatched the picture from his hands and, after a cursory glance at Ray the six-year-old, smacked it down on the dresser. “Okay, that’s enough, let’s go.” Ben turned abruptly and took Ray in his arms, walking them towards the bed. “We’re not going anywhere. Yet.” “You’re kidding, right? Here?” There was a distinct note of panic in Ray’s voice and Ben slowed their progress, kissing his lover’s face until Ray made the move that brought their mouths together. It was a short, sharp kiss, full of suppressed desire and anxiety. “Please, Benny, don’t do this. Let’s go home. We’ll go home and I’ll do whatever you want.” “You always do whatever I want,” Ben teased. “Not this, not here,” Ray pleaded. Ben tipped them onto the bed, using all his strength to stop Ray scrambling away. “Smell the covers, Ray.” “No!” “They’re all freshly washed, they smell of fabric softener not Joseph Vecchio.” “Benny…” “It’s as if your sisters were attempting to obliterate him. Perhaps you have to play your part.” Ray gave up his struggles and sank into the plump quilt, accepting Ben’s caresses as he listened. “During the course of the afternoon they’ve both repeatedly mentioned that this is your house now. They may sincerely want you to take your place as head of the household.” “I can’t live here again.” “But you can make your mark,” Ben whispered as his hands found their way beneath layers of clothing and onto Ray’s flesh, fingertips exploring the shape of bones and instigating shudder after shudder. “If I were Maria I’d want to walk into this room and smell a man I loved on the sheets, his cologne in the air.” “Well, she can bring Tony in.” “No, Ray. It’s not enough.” “This is…” Ray made a last perfunctory attempt at escape before giving up and pressing in close to Ben as if the Mountie could protect him from the past. “Why?” he asked quietly. “What is it to you? If it’s about sex you can have that anywhere.” “This is about you. Everything’s about you.” Rolling Ray onto his back, Ben leant over him, distracting him with kisses and deft touches. “Obliterate his influence. Take back your life. Focus on me, focus on someone who…” loves you “…cares.” “I can’t do this here,” Ray whispered, even as his eyes closed and his concentration fixed on the mouth that trailed over his stomach. “Think of me. Just of me.” “This is…desecration.” “Restoration.” “What next? You’ll be back in a month to fuck me on his grave?” “It would be my absolute pleasure.” “I bet.” Ben was dealing with belt and fly, and Ray was surprised by the intense desire he felt, a lust that illogically spiked when he thought of his father’s ignorant disgust at this supposed perversion. Spite and hatred raged through him, and for the first time in his life he truly understood the need for cold blooded revenge, and he knew he would find his in the acts that so appalled his father. As his cock sprang free his fingers caught in Ben’s hair and he manoeuvred that skilful mouth to exactly where he wanted it, thrusting up into Ben’s throat, groaning as Ben’s fingers dug into his flesh and actively encouraged him. But it was only minutes until Ray was hauling Ben away with similar roughness. Their eyes locked. “What’s wrong?” “This isn’t enough. I need you to fuck me. Here, in this bed, I need you to fuck me.” “You bring something?” A slow smile lit Ray’s face. “For the first time in my life.” Ray pulled his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a condom, flicking the foil envelope at Ben, receiving a heated look in return. “Maybe you should…” “No. You have to fuck me. Poppa would have thought that was the worst thing ever – not only a dirty fag, but a…” “Understood,” Ben firmly interrupted, before repeating more softly, “Understood.” “I hate being here but I’m going to love this.” “He’s gone, and this is us.” “This is us,” Ray nodded, “and I love it.” … A couple of hours later Ben stretched out to switch on the bedside lamp. Ray gradually stirred, blinking in the light. “We fall asleep?” “I think we may have dozed off.” “Or passed out. That was pretty intense, Benny. Is there something wrong with me? Jesus, I can’t believe we’re still in Pop’s bed.” “There is nothing wrong with you,” Ben assured, snuggling back with Ray and kissing whatever flesh presented itself. “And if that’s your way of lashing out at your father I feel duty bound to encourage it. As a friend.” Ray chuckled. “Now, that’s a line.” “That’s a line,” Ben conceded. “Ben… Benny, will you do something if I ask you?” “Anything. Within reason.” “Within reason?” “If you’re going to tell me to go home and never come back the answer is no. If you’re going to ask me if we can see other people the answer is no.” “It’s nothing like that. I want you to get tested.” There was no misunderstanding the question. “If it makes you happy.” “What would make me happy is knowing what you taste like, because latex cannot be the natural flavour of Canadian dick.” “I’ve always been careful, but particularly so with you. I’m sorry if…” “Don’t be sorry for taking care of me, just get it done. I want you to fuck me and come in me and I want to know that there’s something of you left inside me. I see your face when you go down on me and I come and you hold it in your mouth before swallowing it down and there’s this expression of – of…bliss. I want that. I want to taste you. So unless you’re prepared to take a chance…” “Which I’m not.” “…which you’re not, I’d really like you to get tested.” “Our relationship stays exclusive?” “God, Benny, you see me wanting anyone else?” “You trust me?” “I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I shouldn’t have listened to Steve, I should’ve made my own judgements. I’ve been so screwed up. Yes, I trust you.” “Then I’ll get it done as soon as possible.” “Do you mind me asking?” “No, Ray. I’m glad you did.” They laid together in silence for a while, Ben’s perpetual caresses sending Ray to the brink of sleep once more. Teetering on oblivion, Ray made the grand effort and pulled himself back, forcing himself to sit up and wake fully. “You hungry?” “Mmm,” Ben agreed, reaching across to walk his fingers up Ray’s spine. “It’s going to be embarrassing downstairs. How can the girls not know what we’ve been doing up here for hours?” “They’re grown women. I think they’ll cope with their thirty-four-year-old brother having a sex life.” “But here? Here?” Ray repeated, absently tapping the bed. Shivering, he swung his legs out from under the covers and went in search of his clothes, glancing over the array of pictures on the dresser as he did up his shirt. An apparently loving gesture: Joseph Vecchio having his family around him, even his disgrace of a son. With a hollow laugh Ray crossed to the window, checking the street, seeing Stan’s car still parked behind the Riv. Great. Not only did he have to face up to his sisters, he had Stan waiting with that goddamned awful knowing look of his. “Think we can sneak out?” Ben enveloped Ray in a bear hug from behind. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Ray was prodded into the kitchen by his lover; Maria and Stan were sat at the table and glanced up immediately with friendly smiles and no sign of a knowing look. Maria was on her feet within a second. “Dinner’s over but I kept something warm for you two.” “You didn’t have to,” Ray said apologetically. “Maybe I wanted to.” Maria stopped by the oven and turned to her brother. “Maybe I needed to. I’ve really missed you.” Maria resumed her emptying of the oven, bringing out dish after dish. “Ray…I was thinking that now…” “Don’t ask me to move back here.” Maria paused, looked over with a sad smile. “Okay. I won’t.” “But it’ll never be like before. At least we can stay in touch now.” Maria banged a couple of dishes onto the counter. “I had to beg for permission to call you.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I had to beg – beg – to talk to my own brother.” Ray went to his sister, gently enfolding her in his arms, letting her cling to him. “No more. It’s over.” Choosing not to disturb the embracing siblings, Ben moved around them, finding oven mitts and transferring the dishes to the table, laying out plates and cutlery. As he sat along from Stan the cop’s knowing look finally emerged and Ben responded with an airy smile. “Ray, come and eat something.” “Isn’t that my line?” Maria joked tearfully as she released Ray, pushing him to the table and into a chair. “He’s too thin. Isn’t he too thin?” “It suits him,” Ben responded easily. Maria sat opposite Ben to get a good look at her brother’s choice of partner; ignoring the strangeness and some natural anxiety she proceeded to verbally frisk the man for information, settling comfortably into a protective sibling role. Ben, Ray noted, was cleverly selective in what he related about his past and present, and the charm offensive was clearly paying off: he watched as Maria gradually relaxed, her body language opening up, the tense smiles becoming unselfconscious laughs. In the midst of a Diefenbaker tale, Stan caught Ray’s eye and nodded toward the hall, already halfway to his feet. Ray followed his partner, and they found solitude in the deserted dining room. “What’s wrong?” Ray asked instantly, reading Stan’s face. “Welsh called me in before I left the Station House. I have
to go back to “When?” Ray asked warily. “Tomorrow,” Stan offered regretfully. “No.” Ray began to pace. “I’ll be at the funeral, but I have to leave from there. I’ve told him I’ll only go by air, so I can be back faster if you need me.” “I do. I do need you.” “Yeah, but…” “But what?” “You have Fraser.” “I don’t want him or you. I want him and you. Is it too much to ask for one day? One day? Fucking Welsh!” “It’s not his fault.” “You being pushed out, Stan? Am I pushing you out? Is Ben?” “It’s just this “That isn’t true.” “You think? Stop right there, on the spot.” Ray forced himself to stand still. Stan took a step toward him, reaching out, not being at all surprised when Ray automatically backed off. “See? See, Ray? How much comfort is that?” “That’s always been me, you should understand better than anyone.” “I do understand. Now can you try and understand what I’m saying? Do we have to fight over everything? Will you please not be mad at me for having to leave. Fraser will be here for you,” Stan spelt out. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not even mad. I’m just…upset,” Ray finished dejectedly. “Yeah. I know.” They fell into one the protracted silences that were the trademark of their partnership. Eventually Stan sighed deeply, looked to the front door and back to Ray. “You going?” “I gotta go pack, read up on what happened in Stan extended a hand and Ray fell on it, gripping it hard with both of his own. “You will be there.” “I’ll be there.” “Can you pick up Ben tomorrow? I’ll be with the girls.” “No problem.” … During the drive back to the apartment Ray told Ben about Stan, about what he had said and done. “Has he changed much in the time you’ve known him?” “Oh, yeah. When I first knew him he was really insecure, inarticulate, jittery, all nervous energy burning him up. You think he’s thin now you should’ve seen him then: he ever hurt himself you didn’t need an x-ray, you just held him up to the light. I used to wonder how he managed to do the undercover work but there was this time I met up with him when he was in character, and he was so different.” Ray smirked at a memory. “Got a good one over Frankie.” “Scarecrow,” Ben realised. “Right. Cocky piece of smack-dealing shit. Sent down three of the Zuko hierarchy. I can’t tell you how impressed I was.” “Did you tell him?” “As soon as the case was over and he came back to the 27th. It surprised him, I know. It was like he took what he did for granted and couldn’t see what the fuss was.” “You did a good thing.” “I instantly regretted it because it made him think about being partners and – well, I told you about all that.” “The friendship has served you both well.” “I feel bad when I look back. Knowing him like I do I look back and see how edgy he was, waiting for me to reject him and get him moved on. It’s taken me this long to admit how much we needed each other. Need,” Ray adjusted the tense, “need each other.” “He doesn’t seem to have much affection in his life.” The observation hurt; Ray accepted it and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve got to try harder.” “I didn’t actually mean that to reflect on you.” “He’s making an effort for me, I’ll do the same for him. What are you grinning at?” “You.” “You think I’ll be making a fool of myself?” “I think you’re extraordinary.” “As in extraordinarily great or extraordinarily stupid?” “Great. You’re extraordinarily great, Ray.” “I hope that’s not blind lust speaking because I am fit for nothing.” “Although…” No. Ben gave up that fight before it even started. “Yes, you need to get some sleep. I promise not to do a thing to tempt you away from that.” “You’ll be in the same apartment, Benny. Haven’t you noticed that’s enough?” … Maria and Francesca stood in their late father’s bedroom. At first glance nothing had changed: it was as pristinely tidy as they had left it earlier in the day; all it took to appreciate the difference was a deep breath. The air smelt familiarly of Ray and Paco Rabanne, less familiarly but equally pleasantly of Ben; the musky aroma of sex still pervaded. Scents of exorcism. The women exchanged a smile before Maria opened the first of the drawers, grabbing up two handfuls of Joseph Vecchio’s bespoke clothes and gleefully hurling them into the garbage sack held by her sister.
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