A Fluffy Tale Read online

“Good night, Zachary.” Pyon squeaked. “He says good night too.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Julian grinned at that, then let himself out. He found Leo waiting for him in the apartment, eyes anxious, cuddling Nuji to his chest and stroking his tail.

  “He’s fine,” Julian reassured him. “Tired, a bit emotional about stuff, but he’s okay.”

  “Oh, I do hope so. Linis was worried.”

  “That was what all that nonsense was about?”

  “Well, of course. Linis thinks you’re good for him. They’re not exactly subtle creatures, kems—are you, my dear fellow?” he said, nuzzling Nuji. “And Zachary will tolerate interference from Linis that he wouldn’t from a human. I confess myself curious as to how far Linis will go, but you should let him guide you. If there’s anyone or anything on the planet who knows how Zachary’s mind works, it’s his kem.”

  “I think you’ve got a fair idea too. What’s this about me wanting to be a cook?”

  Leo’s guileless expression was a fraud. “I thought you might like to learn. He’s an excellent cook, but you could guess that. Teaching you will give him an excuse for your company he’d never ask for on his own account.”

  “Are you pushing us together?”

  “I'm encouraging two young men who should be friends, to be friends. Zachary needs you, and he’s good for you as well. Your kems are all for it—you’re powerless to resist.”

  Julian shook his head in disgust. “Pushing Zachary where Zachary doesn’t want to be, isn’t a great idea. He’s only just stopped being all huffy with me over every little thing. Don’t back him into a corner, please, Leo.”

  “I won’t. But he’s making strides. He’s not who he was when we first met. I want that process to continue, and I need your help.”

  “You,” Julian said, wagging his finger at his friend, “need a hobby.”

  “I have one—you.”

  Julian sighed. The man was impossible—and impossible to be annoyed with. “I give up. And I'm also going to bed. Goodnight.” He gave Leo’s arm a little squeeze. “Those photos meant a lot to him. He needed them, I think.”

  “Yes, he did. Just…well, if only I’d given them sooner. But at least he’s got them now. Goodnight, Julian. I know I’ll sleep sounder for you being here.”

  Julian’s new bed was the most comfortable he’d ever slept on—ironically, he’d helped Leo choose the mattress without the slightest inkling of what the man planned to suggest to him—but it took a little while for him to get to sleep. He kept thinking about Zachary, and his parents, and how awful it would be to go through life not knowing about them, not having any clear memories—and to believe that the people who’d brought you up, didn’t care all that much about you. He promised himself that he’d call his Mum the very next day and tell her he loved her. He didn’t do that often enough—and if Zachary’s situation could teach him anything, it was that you could never know when the last time you saw someone, really would be the last time.

  Julian’s family weren’t rich, and none of them were travelled or worldly. Sometimes that lack of worldiness really annoyed him. But he wouldn’t trade any of them—or any time with them—for all Zachary’s privileges and wealth. Money just wasn’t a substitute.

  By day, Julian’s new status changed little in their routine. There was some legal stuff to sort out, to give Julian adequate protection in case of Leo’s death or a breakdown in their relationship, and to protect Leo against exploitation. Both sides were handled with scrupulous fairness by one of Zachary’s colleagues at the law firm, not Zachary himself, who wanted to ensure neither Julian nor Leo later felt there had been improper bias. But that took up only a day in total, and the rest of Julian’s duties were exactly as they had been. Leo was slowly introducing him to the business matters which he would later handle, but there wasn’t a huge amount, and Leo’s accountants did most of the work. The rest of the time, Julian was just Leo’s companion—his friend, his helper, his foil for the man’s wicked humour. He kept waiting for the downside, but it never came. He was being paid to spend time with someone he’d gladly help for free, and he had to keep pinching himself to convince himself it wasn’t all some wonderful dream.

  Zachary went back to work on half-days, the afternoons being taken up with physiotherapy appointments and other minor chores. The ugly wheelchair-friendly car had been sold, but at Julian’s suggestion, replaced with a sleeker, smaller one, to give them a little more flexibility with outings and quick dashes here and there. He gave Zachary lifts to his appointments about half the time, because they could then run errands afterwards. Julian and Leo wanted to encourage Zachary to think it normal to have someone else around when he did things, so more often than not, they invented a perfectly plausible reason for Zachary to need a lift rather than a taxi. Zachary, Julian suspected, was well aware of their game—but never argued about it. The guy was learning.

  It was the evenings that started to freak Julian out, just slightly. Zachary seemed to have accepted that Julian and Leo would come over each night for supper, either prepared by him (occasionally with Julian’s assistance), or ordered in. That was followed either by a film, or Zachary and Julian playing chess with Leo watching and arching his eyebrow in a knowing manner, or just sitting and talking, often about Leo’s past travel experiences.

  The chess was fine, even if Julian was hardly a worthy opponent for Zachary unless Leo helped him (and even then, Zachary could kick his arse.) But when they were watching a film or talking or doing anything that involved sitting on the sofa and armchairs, Linis, and then Pyon, would start up the peculiar business of forcing Julian to sit closer to Zachary. Once they tried switching chairs—but Linis then nagged Zachary to move back onto the sofa. After a week, Julian gave up, and sat on the sofa next to Zachary without any need for the kems to ‘persuade’ them. The smug look Linis gave him that night was positively human.

  None of that bothered Julian much, but the way Zachary just accepted it, did. He didn’t seem to find any of it annoying—a little peculiar, certainly, but not enough to resist Linis’s efforts. The fact that he was spending hours on most nights voluntarily sitting less than a foot away from another person, didn’t make him react as Julian would have predicted a bare two weeks before. Half a dozen times it was on the very tip of Julian’s tongue to ask him why it didn’t bother him—and half a dozen times, he thought about Leo’s hopes that Zachary would get used to having people around, and he shut up.

  Leo’s plan seemed to be working. More subtle than Linis’s manoeuvrings, the principle was the same—to gradually desensitise Zachary, until he forgot he was a solitary man who disliked being physically close to other people. The shopping trips for ingredients were another small way in which Zachary was kept company without it being obvious. Once he was off the crutches, and slowly building up strength and stamina again, it seemed natural for Julian and Leo to accompany him on shorter walks, Julian for longer ones with plans to resume jogging anytime now. Julian went to the gym with him as well, on the pretext of needing to improve fitness for his own sake.

  He realised about a week after Zachary had gone back to work full-time that he was spending almost as much time with the man now as he had while he’d been injured—and nearly as much time as he was with Leo. It worried him a little.

  “Don’t you think he should be meeting other people as well?” he said to Leo over lunch one day, when they were discussing plans for a weekend away. Today was Zachary’s birthday, and the surprise weekend trip was Leo’s gift to him—a ferry ride out to an island famous for its wildlife, a night in a hotel with magnificent views, and then a boat tour to look for marine animals before heading back to the mainland.

  “All in good time, Julian. Are you still planning to ask him to go with you to your brother’s wedding?”

  “I’ll ask, but even if he agrees, which he won’t, I can’t see him enjoying it much. And then he’ll be cranky with me.”

  “Give him some credit, de
ar boy. I think you should ask him. Let him expand his horizons a little.”

  “My family tend to narrow them. They did for me.”

  “And yet you turned out just fine. Your parents must be such monsters.”

  “They’re not,” Julian muttered as Leo smirked knowingly. “They’re just not much like you or him.”

  “Another reason he should go. In the meantime, I’ve got a few ideas to entice him out. You’re still enjoying the cooking lessons?”

  “Yes, I really am. I mean…he’s a natural teacher. I worked out I just need to shut up for a while, and then he starts to talk, almost like he can’t help himself.”

  Leo smiled. “And you love to listen, so it’s a perfect match. Encourage him. We can use that to help him make other friends.”

  “How?”

  “I have some ideas. Right now, I'm just delighted that he’s learning that people as well as kems can make good companions. Well done.”

  Julian felt a bit of a hypocrite for accepting any thanks. He’d done nothing—Zachary had done all the hard work. Julian had only had to sit still and wait for Zachary to come slowly out of his shell. He could hardly say he hadn’t enjoyed it either. Scheme of Leo’s or not, the cooking lessons had become one of his treats, and tonight, for Zachary’s birthday, Julian was making a special meal in Leo’s apartment. He hoped he wouldn’t mess it up. He wanted to show Zachary that he’d been paying attention, that he appreciated the time Zachary had spent on him. If Zachary was learning how to be around people, Julian had learned to appreciate them. He’d been—still was, most likely—a thoughtless, careless grub but Leo and Zachary had shown him that to be considered worth knowing, he had to be worth knowing. He liked himself better these days too.

  Both Leo and Zachary loved seafood, and Julian had learned to like it, though he suspected he would never adore it as they did. But what he did enjoy was the fish markets, shopping with either of them, seeing the strange sea creatures he wouldn’t even know how to start to cook, let alone eat, watching Leo ask knowledgeable questions and drive hard bargains for the freshest and best. Julian was happy to cook whatever Leo bought, but he let the master do the picking.

  They selected a few other items, and then a taxi home before it got dark and even colder. Then Leo had kem watching duty—in particular, keeping Pyon’s nose out of the food preparation—while Julian marinaded and sliced and whipped and dunked and tasted. It wasn’t the fanciest meal any of them had eaten even since Leo had arrived, but he’d been researching, and had a few ideas that Zachary hadn’t tried yet. The food was simple—lightly breaded and fried calamari with a salad, grilled sea bass and steamed vegetables, and a whipped fruit mousse that tasted decadent but which would sit easily on the stomach—but the details were what Julian hoped Zachary would notice. And if not—well, it was all damn healthy stuff. No alcohol, the handmade bread was wholemeal and the entire meal was low in saturated fat and refined carbohydrates. Even if Zachary hadn’t lectured him endlessly about the correct way to eat to keep their kems happy, Julian would have made the meal this way for Leo’s sake. Leo’s latest check had shown him to be in excellent health for a man ten years younger—and Julian planned to keep it that way.

  Zachary called up on the private intercom they’d set up between the apartments to say he was home, and five minutes later he turned up at their door.

  “I'm not late, I hope,” he said, smiling tiredly. Linis leapt down to the floor where Pyon and Nuji indulged in a kemmish orgy of welcome, with much licking and cuddling.

  Leo handed his nephew a cup of green tea in his own welcome gesture. “Not at all, and happy thirty-first birthday, my dear boy.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Leo.” He pulled up a chair at the kitchen counter to watch Julian’s final preparations. “Need a hand?”

  “No, all done. Happy birthday from me too.”

  “Thank you. They bought me a cake at work,” Zachary said, frowning. “I don’t eat cake. And they gave me a pen. I’ve got all the pens I need.”

  “It’s a mark of respect, that’s all. They like you.”

  “They do? Why?”

  Leo laughed and Julian grinned. “Why not?” they chorused and Zachary just shook his head.

  Julian handed the man a plate of plain nuts and some dried lentil things that Zachary liked as a snack. “Is it a nice pen?”

  “It is. But I’ve got enough pens.”

  “They don’t go off. Keep it for when you run out.”

  “But they’ll give me another one next year. How can I ask them not to?”

  “You can’t. They love birthdays in that office. Cheer up, it’s over now. I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Good,” Zachary said with such feeling Julian had to grin again. “I don’t need things. People don’t understand that.”

  “I do,” Leo said, handing him an envelope. “I can assure you that all I’ve given you in there is memories.”

  “More photos?”

  “New memories.”

  Zachary read the letter and examined the booking forms. “Oh, this is wonderful, Uncle Leo, thank you—but it’s for two people.”

  “You and Julian, yes. It’s too cold for me, and my doctor thought it might be wiser to do it in the spring.”

  “You didn’t say you weren’t going,” Julian said, hands on his hips. “I can’t leave you alone.”

  “You can and you shall. You need some time off from me, so it’s my gift for you too. Julian, my boy, you spend almost every hour of every day in my company. Love you dearly as I do, I'm sure there are times you wish to be around people more your own age. Go, enjoy yourself, take lots of photos and come back and tell me all about it. And then when it’s warmer, we can do something similar, altogether.”

  “It makes sense,” Zachary said. “We can make sure it’s suitable for Uncle Leo. The weather forecast is for very cold weather—perfect for walking, but…”

  “Not so good for him. Okay.” Julian didn’t like it, but they had already planned for the times when he would be away or taking a night off. This would count as a dry run and he was sure canny Mr Underwood had already thought of that.

  “Excellent,” Leo said. “So enjoy it, both of you, and I can be naughty without my keepers around.” He winked at Julian to take away the offence while Zachary looked to the heavens for patience with his wicked old uncle.

  Supper together wasn’t anything unusual any more, but Leo and Julian had done their best to make it a little special, breaking out table decorations that had been in storage since Leo’s last lover had died, and exotic yellow flowers—just a few—sitting in single-stem vases here and there on the table. Julian had been in fits wondering if Pyon would suddenly take it into his head to rampage up and down, but Linis had a calming effect on the two smaller kems, and the three of them curled up together on a chair while their humans indulged themselves,

  As usual, Zachary ate in silence, concentrating on the food. Julian watched him closely for any signs of pleasure or distaste—but the man was irritatingly opaque. At least, he was until dessert arrived, and as he tried the handmade chocolate dipped cherry on the top of his serve of mousse, he smiled. He ate it delicately, laid the stem beside his plate, and then he bowed his head. “Julian, that’s exquisite. Really…all of the food has been most…acceptable.”

  “Acceptable?” Leo glared narrowly at his nephew. “That’s possibly the nicest meal I’ve had in ten years.”

  “Well yes. I didn’t want to imply it was the best he could ever achieve. I expect you to only improve from now on.”

  Julian glowed with pride. “Try the mousse?” Zachary had a slight sweet tooth, but he was so picky, it was hard to get exactly the right balance between flavours that he’d like.

  Zachary tasted it, then another spoonful, and sighed. “Delicious. I could never get the hang of desserts. You’re my master in those.”

  Julian felt almost unbearably smug, and when both men asked him for seconds, he thought all the hassle of mak
ing the meal had been well worth it.

  Zachary was tired, but he seemed reluctant to let the evening end early, so Julian selected a film and they settled down to watch. He didn’t tempt fate—or Linis’s wrath—by sitting on the armchair. As soon as he put his backside down on the sofa, Zachary’s kem and his own jumped up and took up their now habitual position between the two humans.

  Leo came over, looked down, and smiled at them all. “They have you two trained, don’t they?” He lowered the lights and sat on his usual chair, pressing the command to play.

  Julian had seen the film several times before, though it was new to Zachary, so his attention drifted. He felt content and satisfied with his efforts tonight—Zachary’s reaction had been much more generous than he’d expected. Fulsome, even. That was the nice thing about Zachary—you could trust his praise completely. You could trust him completely because he didn’t lie. He saw no point in lying, and what he found pointless, he didn’t indulge in.

  He smiled to himself at Zachary’s peaceful expression. It had become more common to see him like this, even before he’d shed the nuisance of the crutches. It was as if Leo’s presence had eased the sourness in him, lanced the wound. He was still sharp, and inclined to be truthful more than polite, but the anger that had coloured so many of Julian’s earlier conversations with him, had gone or been muted. It might not have been all Leo, Julian considered. A brush with death might have made him reassess things. One day, Julian might even ask him, but that much hadn’t changed—Zachary still avoided personal topics of conversation, even with someone like Leo.

  Julian’s hands moved almost automatically over Linis’s thick soft fur, and then over Pyon’s shorter coat. They were so cute together, and inseparable. Nuji was their friend, but if Pyon had to choose, Linis won every time. Julian had no idea what Linis would do, but it was funny to see how playful the big, dignified kem became around Pyon. Linis’s affection didn’t extend so much to Julian, but then he tended to mostly ignore humans except Zachary. Unless of course the big guy wanted something and then you couldn’t escape from his golden gaze. Persistent, Julian thought, running his hand down Linis’s buttocks and then back along his spine.