“Couple of things. It’s an old flat, so there’s no fancy bathroom fixtures. But the plumbing works and the place is heated, so you won’t freeze to death. And more importantly the flat comes with—”
“You, Spencer,” said Marshall, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “The place comes with you. Honestly, you have no idea how much this means to me. And remind me to show you photos on my phone of some of the far-from-fancy places I’ve stayed around the world while reporting on one situation or another. Your flat is five-star luxury accommodation by comparison.”
“That’s nice of you to say, and I actually love living here. But I was going to mention the easy-to-reach shops.” Spencer took his hand back and reached for his wallet and keys. “Now, I’m going to take some money, leave my phone on the table so you can still listen to the music while you’re soaking—Bluetooth stillworks without the internet, thank goodness—and pop down to the pizza shop. Put Her Royal Highness onto the floor when you’re ready. Jump in the bath while the water’s nice and hot. Don’t leave it too long.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Grinning, Spencer bounced down the stairs, two at a time. Gino was already serving another customer at the counter, and he waited to place his order, which included a six-pack of bottled Italian beers. While he waited, he realised he hadn’t asked Marshall whether he drank beer, but he was sure alcohol of any kind would not go amiss, bearing in mind the weekend he had endured.
Around twenty minutes later, when he pushed open the upstairs door to his apartment, Marshall was sat cross-legged on the sofa in grey sweats and white socks, watching television with Tiger installed again on his lap. Spencer went to the kitchen counter and placed everything down.
“Hope you don’t mind. I used your hairdryer in the bedroom. Not a big fan of wet hair on a cold night.”
While pulling out plates, cutlery and his small bottle of hot sauce, Spencer continued chatting with Marshall.
“Me either. You look better, refreshed.”
“I feel better. Much better, thank you.”
“My pleasure. I bought us some beers to go with the pizza. Thought you might like something more fortifying to drink than tea or coffee.”
“Good call,” said Marshall.
Spencer searched his kitchen drawers for a bottle opener. He rarely drank at home but had brought a corkscrew combined with a bottle opener with him when he moved in. Once he’d popped the tops off a couple of beers, he took one over to Marshall, finding him flipping through news channels on Spencer’s flatscreen.
“Are you okay to watch the news?” asked Spencer.
“Damage is done now, isn’t it?”
Spencer couldn’t help but notice the resigned tone in Marshall’s voice. On all the programmes of Marshall’s that Spencer had watched, the man had never backed down from asking hard questions. Now the tables had been turned and Marshall was the one having to answer them. Spencer went back to the kitchenette and brought the pizza box and plates over to the coffee table. He placed a slice on each plate before handing one to Marshall. Without thinking, he picked up the remote and clicked off the television.
“You know, sometimes you begin to wonder if you can trust anyone,” said Marshall, staring at the plate.
“There must be people you can still lean on, surely? Like Darcy?”
“There are. Not many, though. Not entirely,” said Marshall, becoming reflective. “I usually go and stay with my mother if I need space from life and work. She lives in a small village outside Oxford. But she’s in the Bahamas right now.”
“Very nice.”
“Can I trustyou, Spencer?”
When Spencer met Marshall’s sincere gaze and felt his vulnerability, his heart wrenched. Of course Marshall felt betrayed, after being exposed publicly by somebody he thought beyond scrutiny. He wanted to say yes, that he could trust him with his life, but those words would be easy to say and maybe Marshall needed—deserved—more.
“That’s a question you need to answer for yourself. I can only tell you that I would never do what Joey did to you, that seeing you like this breaks my heart and I would punch anyone in the nose who tried to hurt you right now. But then, you don’t really know me. I could say anything. The point is whether you believe me.”
Marshall fell quiet and nodded solemnly.
“I can only give you my word. And if it helps, I’ve suffered humiliation at the hands of a partner—not as publicly as you—but I know the number that kind of thing does on your self-esteem. Only you can help yourself bounce back from something like that. You also know for a fact there’s no internet access or phone connection here, so I’m not about to call anyone. I truly want this to be a safe space for you, Marshall.”
Once again Marshall processed Spencer’s words, and eventually, he returned a sympathetic smile.
“Poor Spencer. Both times we’ve met, you’ve seen me at my lowest ebb. You must be wondering what a mess I am, this man who’s dropped into your life twice.”
“Just to clarify, I happen to like this man.”
Marshall smiled.
“Is that so?”
