After doing so and removing his socks, and after a surreptitious glance at the tight backside remounting the horse, Trevor strolled alongside, chatting companionably.
He learned about Rudy being the youngest son of Mr and Mrs Mortimer-King. His parents had gone to look after his mother’s older sister in Vancouver over the Christmas season but would be back on New Year’s Eve, Hogmanay. Rudy’s horse was called Troy and lived in the stables up at the old house. Whenever he said the words ‘old house’ he pointed a thumb back the way he had come. Over the holiday season, Rudy had been left to fend for himself, but didn’t seem to mind. Trevor filled him in on their little group of friends, about the regular get-together, omitting to mention what they had in common, about them batting for the gay team. Fair enough, too, because for the first time in five years not all of them did.
Instead of leading them to the lodge’s front door, Rudy steered the horse to the other side and, just as he had stated, a field opened before them. After a brief chuckle, Trevor stepped in and used the scissors he had brought with him to collect healthier specimens, placing them into his plastic sack. Without a word, Rudy guided Troy off, this time heading towards the back of the lodge. Once Trevor had finished, he hurried to catch up, finding Rudy now wearing a white polo shirt tucked into his jodhpurs and tying up the horse in the car park. Mrs M stood at the door, staring as Rudy unloaded the tree. When Trevor reached her, he stood at her shoulder, having turned to study Rudy.
“You need a hand?” Trevor called out.
“No, I’m good.”
“You most certainly are,” muttered Trevor, as Mrs M snorted and bumped her shoulder against his. They watched Rudy unload the Christmas tree and drag the evergreen towards the front door.
“Are you Mrs Madison?” asked Rudy as he approached.
“I am,” said Mrs M, folding her arms. “What of it?”
“I’m Rudy Mortimer, the owner’s son,” he said, lowering the tree to the ground before removing his cap and holding out a hand. Trevor noticed his hair and brows then, a deep, dark shade of red. “And I need to apologise to you. I should have switched on the power yesterday, and because of my mistake, I put you out. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
She studied him for a moment then looked to Trevor for reassurance.
“Is he for real?”
“What Mrs M means,” said Trevor, grabbing Mrs M’s hand and making her accept Rudy’s outstretched hand, “is that she’s not used to dealing with such well-mannered people. And to thank you for bringing the tree.”
Rudy dropped the tree off in the main room, then walked Trevor and Mrs M through the house, pointing out little features they could easily have overlooked during their stay. By the end, they knew their way around the lodge, where to find the fuse box and lights for the bar counter—hidden behind a wall panel just as Frank had guessed—the switch to illuminate the outside porch, how to fire up the central fireplace and where the remote controls were located for the television sets in each of the rooms.
Back in the kitchen, Mrs M set about making tea. Rudy offered to stick around to help Trevor put up the tree and the decorations, in recompense for his forgetfulness.
“I took the bedroom next to the kitchen,” said Trevor, to make conversation before wondering why he had shared that particular snippet.
“Good choice. Best room in the lodge.”
“Not sure about that. But it’s the nearest to the kitchen.”
“I take that room whenever I stay here. Bet you didn’t discover its little secrets, did you? Mind if I show you?”
Even before Trevor shrugged his approval, Rudy had already started moving towards the door. Inside the compact room, on either side of the bed, floor-to-ceiling wood panels covered the walls much like the rest of the lodge. The owners had placed a small bedside cabinet with a lamp on the right side of the bed, but nothing on the left, near the small window. Trevor had thought nothing of this, putting the lack of furniture down to fact that the room only slept one person. Rudy stepped around the bed and stopped at the bare wall on the left.
“Unless by accident, you probably wouldn’t have discovered this,” he said before placing his palm on the panel and pushing. The wall moved inwards softly and soundlessly, a hidden door leading into darkness. Reaching a hand inside, Rudy pressed something on the wall and bright light flooded the space.
Turning to Trevor, he beamed and said, “Come take a look.”
A modern bathroom had been fitted inside with a tub, a shower cubicle, sink and toilet. Rudy stepped over and turned the sink’s hot tap. Even though they had only just switched on the lodge’s electric immersion heaters, steamy hot water gushed into the sink.
“Best of all, the old lodge used to be heated from a fireplace in the kitchen—pipes still run at the back and through the Aga—so if you ever have a problem with the boiler, or if you have a power cut, this room will always get hot water. I love staying here when we have too many guests up at the old house. You may think you got a bum deal on the oldest and smallest bedroom in the house, but I guarantee, you’ll not get cold, because the pipes run beneath the bedroom floor.”
While Rudy talked, he had placed a hand on Trevor’s back, making his body stiffen slightly at the intimacy. When he left the warm hand there, Trevor turned to grin conspiratorially at him. Eventually Rudy let go, but the place where his hand had touched remained warm.
“Does that mean I can finally get out of these wet clothes and take a quick shower?”
“You need a hand?”
Trevor grinned at Rudy and the comment slipped out before he could stop himself.
“Might not be so quick if we’re showering together.”
“I meant with the shower controls,” said Rudy, baffled, his smile draining away.
Instant mortification. Usually Trevor had better filters and would never be so openly playful with someone he had just met. Not for the first time in his life, he had misjudged the situation, and now he had embarrassed Rudy. This time, he felt the deep burn of a blush on his cheeks.
