A New World Begins

Putting on the Ritz

London’s bloody busy. Full of half-blind idiots too. I can’t believe how many times I’ve had to weave around people on my way from Waterloo Station to St Pancras, everybody seems to be going around with their eyes closed. It’s not exactly as if I’m hard to see either: my new Gore-Tex coat that mom and dad bought me for Christmas to go hiking and hill walking in is bright yellow with black trim: it makes me stand out like a wasp. Plus, I’m carrying an absolutely mahoosive olive green bergen on my back with all my kit in it, so I’m not easily overlooked. If I crash into somebody, they are definitely going to come off the worse for it. The Law of Momentum is on my side.

I could have got the tube from Waterloo to St Pancras but dad said it was actually better to walk rather than wait for a tube train and fight my way through the crowds on the Underground. It takes longer, the two and half miles can be done in about fifteen minutes on the underground, but on foot it’s flat and full of interesting stuff to see: the River Thames, Covent Garden, the Old Bailey, The British Museum, Tavistock Square. Loads of interesting places.

The St Pancras Hotel is huge. Actually, it looks like something out of Harry Potter. A massive great Victorian Neo-Gothic  red-brick building with an awesome interior. It was the terminus hotel of the old railway company back in Victoria’s day but shut in the 1930s. It’s just had a full renovation apparently and re-opened again as a posh hotel. Shane and his family, well, Shane, plus Kyle and Kyle’s mom and dad, flew in this morning to Heathrow and should have arrived at the hotel an hour ago. They invited me to go and stay with them for a few days over New Year and dad agreed to it. Dad likes Shane, they seemed to get on well when Shane was delegated to escort dad around Allegheny College on Parents’ Weekend, and when Mr Masters phoned dad up a few days ago to make me a proper invitation dad said it was okay for me to come up to London. He even gave me some extra money when he dropped me off at the station this morning to catch the train because, apparently, “London’s expensive.”

I barged through the big swinging glass doors at the top of the access ramp before the flunky in the greatcoat and top hat could open them for me and strode across the lobby to the desk. The lobby looks as though it could actually be part of the railway station, it’s huge. A big tiled floor and loads of seats and tables with people lounging about, and waiters bustling to and fro with posh drinks. The reception desk looks posh too.

“Good afternoon, Sir. May I help you?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m Craig Wright. I’m a guest of Mr and Mrs Masters.”

“Just one moment, Sir.” The clerk tapped away at his keyboard and then smiled. “Ah, yes, Secretary Masters should have arrived earlier this morning.” The clerk frowned. “Ah, unfortunately, Sir, there was a problem. It seems the security detail from the Embassy who visited a few days ago weren’t entirely happy and so, regrettably, Secretary Masters isn’t staying here. He’s left instructions that you are to be conveyed to his new accommodation. Nothing to worry about, Sir, everything is arranged. If you’d care to follow the doorman to the entrance he’ll ensure you get to where you should be. Do have a nice day.”

What the fuck? Now where’s this guy appeared from? He must be the doorman. Top hat and greatcoat.

“Do follow me, Sir, may I take your bag?”

“Err, no, I can manage it myself, thank you.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

This is bloody rickydouglas. The doorman must be four times older than me. He’s no idea how much my backpack weighs and we’re only walking about twenty yards anyway if the plan is to get a cab from the front door. I’m a zillion times fitter than he is and anyway, unfastening the Bergen and passing it to him would take more time than just carrying it myself.

The doorman led the way to the front door and as soon as we stepped outside a taxi swept up from the adjacent rank and halted right in front of us. As I jumped into the back the doorman spoke to the driver. Before the door closed, I reached into my pocket and took out a fiver and slipped it into the doorman’s hand.

“Thank you, Sir, do have a good stay.”

Bloody Hell, where the fuck am I going? I should have asked. And dad was right, London is expensive. I’ve just tipped a doorman five quid for not carrying my bag to a taxi. Dad would probably have done the same though. It’s something he said, once. “Look after the little people, Craig, the people no-one cares about. They’ll look after you.”

I wasn’t exactly sure where the taxi went, but from the position of the sun and the miles ticking over on the clock it looked like we were heading back south towards Waterloo where I started out. Maybe I should have listened to Will and downloaded some apps to my phobile moan, checked the route the cab was taking. Made sure I wasn’t being fleeced.

“Here we are, Sir,” said the driver as we pulled into a narrow, dead end side street near Pall Mall and drew up outside a posh looking building – all white stonework and deep red painted plaster or something like that. There was a flight of steps leading up to a large wood and glass doorway with a Union flag flying over the portico. A small discreet nameplate read “St James Hotel and Club.”

I stepped out of the cab, hauling my Bergen out too and dropped it on the pavement behind me. Before I could reach my wallet, the driver had started to spin the cab around and just smiled through his open window, “It’s all taken care of, have a good stay,” and zoomed off back down and out of the courtyard.

I turned to pick up my bag and found myself face to face with another guy in a top hat and old-fashioned frock coat, just appearing out of nowhere like a bloody ghost. With a single deft movement, he picked up my Bergen by the haul strap and led the way up the steps. “Do follow me, Sir.”

I followed through the doors and into the lobby area where the concierge was just placing my bag on a rest near a large polished wood desk. He nodded and smiled, “It seems Sir has brough enough luggage to equip an army,” then disappeared off outside again before I could reply.

I was about to introduce myself to the smart young lady waiting behind the reception desk when a familiar voice came from just outside the reception area and Kyle stepped in.

“Welcome, Boots. We saw you arrive from the bistro, we’re just having brunch before going sight-seeing. Come on through, Shane’s dying to see you again. Leave your bag there for now, and don’t worry about signing in, that’s all taken care of.”

The lady behind the desk nodded and so I turned and followed across the small lobby into what was, according to the engraved glass of the door, “William’s Bistro”. It was a small room, L shaped, with green marble topped tables surrounded by what appeared to be an eclectic mix of satin velour chairs. Seated by the window, eating burgers and fries, were Shane and Lee Miller, both of whom leapt to their feet as I entered.

“At ease, gentlemen,” I joked and went over to them, hugging Shane and then shaking Lee’s hand.

“How ya doin’, Boots,” grinned Lee, “Bet you didn’t expect to find me here in Oregon did ya?”

“Bloody amazing, Lee, they’ve even got you wearing a jacket and tie!” I laughed as he sat back down beside Shane and grabbed several fries from Shane’s plate.

“We arrived a few hours ago,” said Kyle as I slipped my coat off. I was about to hang it on the back of a chair when a waiter, at least I assumed he was a waiter, stepped up and took it from me, disappearing around the corner of the L shape. Kyle smiled. “He’s either taken it to the cloak room, Boots, or you’re going to have to track it down later on e-Bay and buy it back. Anyway, as I was saying, we got in a while ago and the first thing these two ravenous wolves wanted to do after unpacking was try the burgers here after reading the write up about them in the information pack in our rooms. Then we’re planning to go on a short walk to see what’s around here. Mom and dad have already gone out, but you’ll get to meet them at dinner tonight. Until then, we’re all free to do as we please. We could do with a guide though…”

“Are you hungry too, Boots?” asked Shane, stuffing the last morsel of his burger into his mouth.

“Yeah, I can recommend the burgers,” added Lee, “And a portion of fries.”

“No, I’m fine for now, Lee, I’ll just grab a few of Shane’s chips too, test them out.” I grabbed a couple of chips from the bowl in front of Shane and smiled at him as he finished chewing his burger.

“Can I show Boots our room, Kyle?”

“Yes, go ahead, Shane. I’ll wait down here with Lee and then we can go out exploring.”

Shane jumped up, wiping his fingers with a napkin, and led the way back out into the lobby. As Shane studied the floor listing and pressed a chromed button to call the lift, I took a couple of steps further, into the reception area, to grab my bag. It wasn’t there. The lady behind the desk smiled. “If you’re looking for your bag, Sir, it’s already gone up to your room. There’s a key waiting for you up there too, and a registration card. If you could just sign it and leave it on the desk that will be fine.”

“Come on, Boots, the elevator’s here,” shouted Shane enthusiastically. “Wait until you see our room.”

* * *

We dived out of the lift, or elevator as Shane calls it, on the fifth floor and Shane led the way down a very short corridor hung with some expensive looking Oriental paintings to his room. Our room: it’s a twin room, bigger than any hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. My bag was already waiting for me, perched on a small table at the foot of one of the two beds.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” asked Shane. “We’ve even got a small balcony. I think the furniture is made from silk. The wallpaper is.”

Shane was right: the pale green wallpaper really was silk, and it blended nicely with the pale pink upholstery of the furniture and rich wooden floors. Pink sounds a girlish colour, but it wasn’t in this room. It looked good. Just enough of it to make a warming contrast with the cool green.

“Kyle and Lee have the adjoining room, Boots. We can get to them through that door there – if they haven’t locked it. Their room is the same size as this one, but they have a double bed instead of twins. It’s a four poster! The colour scheme is different in their room too, it’s mainly blue and grey and their paintings are seascapes.”

“We’d best be careful not to break any of these big vases, Shane, I bet they cost a fortune. They look like stuff you’d see in a jungle temple in an Indiana Jones film.”

“Kyle’s parents, Edward and Mary, have a suite on the next floor up, Boots. It has a rooftop garden terrace to it too with a view over London. It’s even smarter than these rooms we have. They have stayed here before and usually have the whole top floor but because we booked in late, they could only get an ordinary suite. That why us and Kyle have rooms down here instead of up with them.”

“It certainly beats sleeping under a bush in the rain, which is what I was doing a few weekends ago, Shane! Plus, I bet Kyle and Lee prefer to be on a different floor to his parents.”

Shane laughed, then stepped over to the desk in the corner and opened the cabinet alongside it. “Do you want a soda, Boots? We have a fridge full of them. And some wine, but I guess we ought to leave that alone. There’s other liquor in that cabinet over there. Brandy and whisky and stuff. But the sodas are good enough. We’ll probably get into trouble if we drink the other stuff.”

“Can I use this wardrobe, Shane? I want to unpack some of my clothes. Not all of them, but I have brought a few smart shirts and things that I want to hang and let the creases drop out. Maybe iron them too. There must be an iron in here. I can use that desk as an ironing board.

Shane was still smiling. “Sure Boots, use whatever you like, we aren’t short of closet space.” He paused and looked around him. “You know Boots, this is way bigger and better than anything I ever had, even before things turned bad. When we saw you on those video link up Will sorted, I was looking at your bedroom and thinking how it was just like mine used to be. Not massive, but nice and comfortable.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, Shane. Did you get to see the rooms at Nathan’s house at the barbeque? His bedroom was like a suite. I felt like I could get lost in the corridors there when I stayed for the weekend.”

It only took me a couple of minutes to unpack the things I wanted to hang up, then put on a tie. After all, if even Lee is wearing a jacket and tie then I will too. I didn’t bother with a tie on the way up on the train. Nobody would see it anyway under my new wasp coat.

“Right, I’m ready Shane, let’s go and re-join Kyle and Lee. Make sure you bring the key. We don’t want to get locked out.”

Shane smiled again, that smile he has that kind of melts you. “There’s an extra key for you, Boots, over there on the desk. That plastic swipe card thing. You can come and go as you please even if I’m not here. I’m glad you are here though, it’s really good to see you again. We’ve all missed you in the dorm. Travis even suggested hiding in my suitcase and being smuggled over here instead of Aspen when he heard I was coming to London for a holiday.”

 “Where’s Aspen, Shane?”

“It’s somewhere in the Colorado mountains, Boots. Kind of like a high-end winter resort.  Quite a few people from college go there. I’ve hardly ever been out of my state until Kyle’s parents said they would look after me and I went to their house and then to the college.”

“What are Will and Noah doing over Christmas, Shane, did they say?”

“I’m not sure about Will, I think he said something about his family usually going on a cruise, but I know Noah is off to their winter place in Florida.”

For a moment, me and Shane just looked at each other, both pretty much thinking the same thing. We had definitely been the two poor boys at Allegheny. Not that I’m poor, I’m way better off than lots of kids, but it’s just that most of the guys at Allegheny are rich enough not to be aware of it.

“Come on, Shane, we need to get a move on, Kyle will wonder what we’re up to. One thing’s for sure, the next few days are going to give us better adventures than any trip on a cruise liner. Unless it gets attacked by pirates of course. That could be exciting. Hey, I’ve had an idea, I’ve got to take you to Execution Dock. That’s where they used to hang pirates. It’s down by the River Thames. We could do it right this afternoon.”

* * *

Kyle and Lee were happy to go along with my suggestion of a walk along the side of the Thames all the way to Execution Dock, which should only take us about an hour and so, after grabbing my coat, we stepped outside. The doorman suggested a short cut round the back to Green Park and so were soon heading through the park and on our way to The Mall. It really impressed all three of them when we popped out of the park right alongside that big monument to Queen Victoria directly outside Buckingham palace.

“Can we go to the Palace instead?” asked Shane. “We might get to see the Queen. And the guards marching up and down.”

“We’d be better doing that another day, guys. The Queen’s not home right now. You can tell because the Royal Standard isn’t flying above the Palace, just the Union Flag. If the Queen’s home, they replace it with the Royal Standard. Come on, let’s stick to the original plan, we’re losing time. If you want to see guards, Shane, I’ll take us on a cut through St James Park and then Horse Guards’ Parade. They usually have sentries there in full cavalry armour, I’ve been round there with dad.”

It actually took us longer to get to the Thames than I planned. What should have been a ten- or fifteen-minute bimble took us almost half an hour because Shane, Lee and Kyle kept stopping every few yards to take a photo. Still, the Blues and Royals dismounted guard outside Horse Guards’ Arch gave them a lesson in just how good ceremonial turn out should be, there wasn’t so much as a fingerprint on his gleaming breastplate, sword or helmet, and his boots were nearly up to Royal Marines’ standards. Not bad considering he was probably only the same age as Kyle and Lee. He just stood absolutely motionless and inscrutable as first Shane, then Kyle and Lee, posed alongside him for photos.

“Was that a real sword, Boots?” asked Shane as we finally began to stroll away.

“You bet, Shane,” I replied. “It’s razor sharp. That’s why he wasn’t too concerned when Lee and Kyle got real close to him for their picture. One flick of his wrist and their heads would have been rolling down the pavement…”

We emerged onto the Victoria Embankment right opposite the London Eye and so I had another battle on my hands right away as they all wanted to cross the river and go up on the Eye.

“No guys, save that until tomorrow too. Trust me, my plan is way better. We’ll head downstream and keep on this bank of the Thames so I can show you London Bridge, Tower Bridge and the Tower of London on the way to the Execution Dock. There’s load of stuff to see, then maybe we can come back along the other bank and see HMS Belfast – that’s a big warship guys – and Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, he’s probably not home either, Kyle, and…”

“Okay,” laughed Lee, “Lead on, Oregon. Just don’t ya expect me to quick march even if Shane and Kyle do.”

* * *

It took way longer to get to the Tower of London than it should have done. You just can’t rush a Yank when there’s old stuff around that needs photographing. I suppose it’s a good thing they were using their phone cameras: if it had been like in the olden days when you needed proper cameras it would have cost them a fortune to feed them with rolls of 35mm film. Actually, those little plastic tubs that those films came in are dead useful, I have some dad has given me. They’re brilliant for packing things like matches, or salt and pepper, or sugar, in fact anything small that you don’t want to get wet on exercise. Still, the fact that the three of them were so engrossed in photographing anything that moved, or photographing anything that didn’t move until it got up and walked away, did have its useful side. Whilst they were busy taking a million snaps of Traitors’ Gate I was able to slip my phone out of my pocket and make a quick call to the number dad had given me.

Just beyond Traitors’ Gate is a small bridge across the moat into the Tower grounds. It’s got a couple of policemen and a sentry box at the public end of it to keep the riff-raff out. I strolled over and stood by the two big bombards that are on the grass there, reading the plaque that tells you all about them.

“Craig?” Somebody was tapping me on the shoulder. It was a Yeoman Warder who had just strolled out across the bridge.

“Oh, hi, Mister Langton.”

“You were right, Craig, that coat does make you stand out like a wasp. I had no trouble spotting you. How are you doing? You’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you. How old are you now? Seventeen? Eighteen?”

I laughed. “No, I’m fifteen. People always think I’m way older.”

“Looks like you hit puberty running! You were just a snotty nosed little brat when I retired. How are your mum and dad doing? It must be three of four years since I last saw them.”

“Oh, they are doing great. Dad’s on a posting in America. Well, he’s home for Christmas right now, but he’s going back in a couple of weeks. He was telling me some stories a couple of days ago about when you were his SSM before you retired and then joined the Yeoman Warders here. And I always remember that day when you caught me doing wheelies across the parade ground on my BMX bike. My eardrums are still vibrating…”

“Yes, I remember it too. I told you not to play on the Parade Square and you looked at me and said, ‘This isn’t play, this is serious.’ You always were a cheeky runt!”

We both laughed and then he slipped his hand inside his tunic and passed me an envelope, which I quickly tucked inside the map pocket of my jacket. “It’s good to see you again, Craig. Give my best wishes to your dad. I’d best go back inside again, some of these tourists are getting a bit inquisitive and wondering what I’m doing out here. I could end up answering questions all afternoon if they collar me.”

As Mister Langton popped behind the barrier and strolled back across the bridge into the Tower, Shane, Kyle and Lee all came bustling up.

“Who was that, Oregon?”

“Was he a Beefeater, Boots?”

“Why was he in a blue uniform, Boots? I thought Beefeaters all wore red uniforms. Who was he?” Do you know him?”

I smirked. “Yes guys, he was a Beefeater. Well, actually, he was a Yeoman Warder, that’s the proper name for them. And the blue uniform is the Undress Uniform. They wear their red Dress Uniform when they are escorting the Sovereign, but on ordinary days, when they are dealing with the Plebian Hordes, they wear blue Undress. It’s like at college, Shane: you wear blues on normal days and keep your white and grey ceremonial uniform for special parades.”

“But what did he want, Boots? He came out of the castle to talk to you. We saw him.”

“He’d spotted you all hanging round Traitors’ Gate, guys, recognised you as Americans. He came out to check if you were a consignment of rebels I’d brought in to be dealt with. You’re okay: I told him you were my prisoners and I don’t need you executed. Yet. We’d best keep moving though…”

* * *

After passing the Tower of London we went to Tower Bridge, where we had to stop for ages again so they could take photos. I’m sure they were half expecting Harry Potter would drive across in a big red bus, except of course that in the film he drove across a completely different bridge. I really could do with a sheep dog, or at least one of those electric cattle prod things, to keep them moving along. Two bloody hours it’s taken so far and we still have nearly half a mile to go before we get to Execution Dock.

“Come on, guys, keep up. We’re nearly there.”

“I’m getting hungry again, Oregon. All this walking is giving me a thirst too.”

“No problem, Lee. I have that sorted. We’re going to take a break and have some scran and a wet just as soon as we get to Execution Dock. You can almost see it from here. Just another few hundred yards.”

* * *

We piled on to a table on the terrace outside The Captain Kidd pub. It’s right on the waterfront and has views over Execution Dock, which is basically a stretch of mud where they used to hang pirates after catching them and shipping them back to London. The gallows used to be accessible at low tide, when they would hang the pirates, then they would leave the bodies swinging until three high tides had covered them. It made sure they were especially dead. Captain Kidd was hanged there, which is why this pub is named after him.

I left Shane and Lee reading the history of Execution Dock on the back of the menu card and asked Kyle to go inside with me and order some drinks. I was pretty certain I’d be able to get served but with Kyle being a bone fide eighteen-year-old he made a useful back up in case the barman got uppity.

“You and Lee can have pints of proper beer, Kyle, and I’ll have one too. I’ll buy them. What about Shane? Are you okay for him to have a pint too? It would be a shame to leave him out.”

Kyle thought deeply. “He shouldn’t, Boots. He’s still under twenty-one. Well, under eighteen too, which I guess is what matters here.  We’ll just get him an orange juice or a coke.”

“How about a shandy, Kyle? That’s mainly lemonade with just a tiny bit of beer in it. It won’t do him any harm. It’s what English kids all start on. A very weak shandy…”

Ten minutes later we re-joined Shane and Lee at the table. Kyle passed a pint of best Yorkshire bitter to Lee and I passed a pint to Shane. The barman had smirked as I asked for a ‘very weak shandy for my American cousin’ and poured a pint of bitter anyway, assuming I was referring to Kyle. Kyle was so busy mopping up the ambience that he didn’t pay much attention to the drinks being poured.

“This is proper English beer, guys. Not that weak fizzy gnat’s piss like Millers and Bud you have back home. Don’t drink it too fast because it’s way stronger and I don’t want you falling flat on your faces. Shane, yours is, err, shandy. That’s mainly lemonade. Kyle said it was okay. You can see it’s a slightly different colour. And its fizzy.”

Shane smiled and raised his glass. “Thanks, Kyle.” He didn’t seem to notice it wasn’t fizzy, or a different colour.

“Hey, this tastes good,” said Lee. “Not like beer at all.”

“No, Lee,” I laughed, “It tastes exactly like beer should. It’s your stuff that’s naff.”

As everyone was thirsty after our walk, our first pint went down quickly. It also seemed to take the edge of everyone’s hunger because when I said it was time to go and order a second round, and what food did they want from the menu, everybody suggested that it was okay to skip food. We all went inside as I went to order again as it was starting to get a bit chilly as the sum sank low into the late December sky. Kyle and Lee and grabbed a table by the window overlooking the river and Shane came with me to the bar to help carry the glasses. We were served by a different barman this time and I asked for three pints of bitter and a shandy. The barman looked at Shane, then poured him a shandy. A proper shandy.

Back at the table I asked what time we needed to be back at the hotel for dinner. “Oh, about seven, I guess. Dinner is at seven-thirty, up in the suite. If we get back at seven we can freshen up and be in plenty of time,” chuckled Kyle. “This beer is good. Kind of warm and mellow. Not fizzy like Bud.”

I think it was the third pint that started the problem. They weren’t drunk. Just very chilled out.

“Guys, come on, it’s nearly six. It went dark outside ages ago. It’s an hour’s walk back to the hotel, and that’s only if you don’t stop every other minute to read a plaque or photograph something. We need to get moving. Now.”

Lee was chuckling. “An hour’s no problem, Boots. We only need half an hour. We can go fast. Quarterback pace. It’ll be useful training, keep us fit for football. You and Shane will have a struggle keeping up with me and Kyle.”

“Like bollocks we will, Lee. You won’t see me and Shane for dust.”

“Not see us for dust,” giggled Shane. “We have time for another pint of shandy, don’t we Boots?”

“No, we bloody don’t. Come on guys. Spit-spot, off we trot.”

The fresh air did the real damage. As soon as we got outside into the chill December air the beer really got to them. Lee had his arm around Kyle’s shoulder, the two of them chuckling like demented squirrels. “Come on, Oregon, show us the way. We’ll set the pace and you two try and keep up.”

Shane wasn’t quite so bad, he’d had two shandies after his first pint of Old Peculier and so was just happy. At least I was okay. I’d taken my time and paced my pints rather than just necking them down like fizzy pop, even when Lee had smirked and said, “Can’t keep up, alien?”

“It’s this direction, guys, not over there, and I’ve had a better idea. We don’t want to be late for dinner so let’s get a taxi back to the hotel. There are some cabs over there, let’s grab one. It’ll only take about twenty minutes if the traffic is good and we ‘ll have plenty of time to freshen up before dinner. You two could do with a coffee. In fact, let’s get one from that café over there and you can drink it on the way back.”

“A real London cab, Boots? That would be awesome, I’ve always wanted a go in one of those. Let’s do it, Kyle. Can we?”

Kyle and Lee nodded and smiled. “Good idea. We don’t want to leave you two behind, lost in London.”

“Lost in London,” repeated Lee. “That would make a good horror film. Jack the Ripper and werewolves and stuff.”

“Come on, let’s head up the road to that taxi rank and we can get some coffees from that shop there. In fact, Shane, can you run over and grab some coffees and I’ll go up and get a taxi and bring it back here. You two just sit here on the wall and wait. Don’t want your accents giving the game away, the cabbie might charge extra. Just stay put.”

“Just stay put,” repeated Kyle as he pulled Lee tighter to him.

“I don’t havver myself an accent, bud,” giggled Lee.

* * *

The taxi ride back was pretty straightforward: the traffic was as good as it ever gets in London and the cabbie took us back right along that road that runs parallel to the Thames for most of the way so we were back at the hotel by six-thirty. The coffee had done pretty decent work and so Kyle and Lee were almost human again when we piled out of the lift and headed into our two adjacent rooms.

Me and Shane had hardly got into ours before there was a knock on the adjoining door and Kyle tentatively stuck his round it. “Is it okay guys, I don’t want to disturb you?”

“Definitely don’t want to disturb you,” said Lee, who had now appeared at Kyle’s shoulder.

“You’re not disturbing us,” snickered Shane. “Nothing happening in here. It’s the two gay boys next door you want to keep an eye on.”

“Yeah, go make them another coffee,” I added, “There’s one of those fancy coffee pod machines in the cupboard by your bed. There is in our room anyway.”

“Okay, we’ll see you in half an hour, we can head up ready for dinner. Introduce you to our parents, Boots.”

The door closed, followed by the sound of something clattering.

“I think one of them has just tripped over, Boots.”

“Or been thrown on the bed,” I laughed. “Come on, let’s make ourselves a coffee and then get ready.”

Shane wandered over to the cupboard with the built-in coffee maker and dropped a pod in the slot.

“It’s been a brilliant day, today, Boots. It’s so good you could come up and stay with us for a few days. First the overnight plane flight – we each had big reclining seats that converted into beds up front – then the tour round London this afternoon. I’ve got loads of pictures to show the guys back at college.”

“How did the flight compare with Travis’s plane, Shane?”

Shane smiled and thought for a moment as he passed me a cup of coffee and started to make one for himself.

“I think I preferred Travis’s plane. It wasn’t as big or fast but it was just as comfortable. And its seats can recline too. It was nice being able to talk to the pilot and watch her fly. She even let Will talk to the air traffic controller. The airport was better too with Travis’s plane. Just turn up and go to a private lounge instead of going through the crowds. We did go through the VIP lanes for the flight here, and wait in a VIP lounge, but it was still not as good as just going right up to the front door and getting in a plane.”

“Or flying right out of Travis’s back garden!”

Shane was now sat on the end of his bed, hugging a cup of coffee, smiling. I like to see him smile. It’s good he looks happy. This must be a great Christmas for him. I really don’t like to think what it might have been like for him at Christmas and New Year in previous years.

“How are you and Amelia doing, Shane?”

If it was possible, Shane’s face lit up even more.

“She’s really nice, Boots. I get to see her whenever I get a pass out into town. Nat’s been pretty good at giving us passes into town most Sundays and some Wednesdays after sports are done. Her family are nice too.”

Shane hesitated for a moment.

“How about you, Boots? How are things with you? That girl you were with on the first video link we had was nice.”

“Mandy? She’s okay, Shane. She’s not my girlfriend though. Everybody thinks that, but she isn’t. Most of the time she’s a complete pain in the arse. A real bossy-boots at times. I like her, but she’s more like my sister. She’s known me forever.”

“The guys were all wondering about her, Boots. She looked pretty hot and we all thought that she was your girlfriend. But then…”

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s what you said to me. About you thinking you liked guys. It kind of confused us…”

“It bloody confused me, Shane!”

“We were wondering too, about why you went back home. It was so sudden, and we never got told why. Not really told. Kyle just told us it was for personal reasons. I think him and Nathan had an argument about it.”

I paused for a moment. Not sure what to say to him. I know he wants to know, they all do. In their shoes I’d be curious too. But if I tell them, it might cause problems for Nathan. Avoiding problems for Nathan was really the main factor behind leaving. Everyone said it was for the best. Partly, they were right.

“We were talking it over at Travis’s, Boots. Did Nathan complain about you? We kind of worked out that maybe you liked him, and he objected and got you sent back home.” Shane looked nervous, as though he hadn’t wanted to say what he had said, but hadn’t been able to stop himself.

“No, Shane, Nathan didn’t complain about me. Nathan hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re part right. I do like Nathan, so mainly that’s why I came home. It could have been awkward to stay.”

Shane was silent for a moment, then spoke again, very quietly.

“Noah thinks Nathan likes you, Boots.”

I finished the last drops of my coffee. Avoided looking right at Shane.

“Come on, Shane, time’s flying. I’ll just go freshen up in the bathroom, then get changed ready for dinner while you get freshened up too. Then we’ll grab Kyle and Lee.”