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."This is Pip, he's Lindsay's-""Friend," Valentine says smoothly, when she pauses just the tiniest fraction of asecond too long, and he looks at Lindsay with a strange expression, eyebrows raised justslightly like he's checking he's doing it right.That's what ends the whole stupid thingcompletely, it's that resigned little look."My friend?" Lindsay repeats, as scornfully as he can manage, and crosses theroom to slip an arm round Valentine's waist and bump a clumsy kiss against his cheek, infront of all his mother's nosy old gossiping harpy friends who babysat him as a child.Theworld doesn't end, the sky doesn't fall.Valentine just looks down at the carpet and smiles, shy and speechless for once,and that makes everything okay. 15.Lindsay kisses his mum goodnight and goes into the kitchen to make nightcapswith the sound of her footsteps on the stairs thudding gently somewhere above his head.When he carries the glasses back into the living room, he finds Valentine lying on thecarpet with his head and the top half of his body under the Christmas tree, nestled inbetween the brightly-wrapped presents.Lindsay wonders why nobody in his family is normal, and then he realises he'sthinking of Valentine as his family now and sits down on the middle sofa cushion,surprised and feeling weird.He drinks his whiskey.He can smell church incense, stillclinging to his sleeve like a faint whisper of unwanted rituals." What are you doing?""Stargazing.""I'm drinking your drink if you don't come out.""Drink it, I ain't thirsty."He drinks it.The ice cubes clink gently against each other and the bottom of theglass."Explain stargazing.""It's when you gaze at stars, Lindsay.""I ain't dim."The shoddy impression makes the kid laugh."Shut your face, I don't sound likethat." He wriggles a bit, twisting at the waist and bending himself so he can peek out atLindsay from under the dark branches and twinkling fairy lights."Come here.""What for?""Cos I'm asking you to?"So he slips down off the sofa and knee-walks over to the tree, still holding one ofthe glasses, and presses the cold condensation against that tempting stripe of bare fleshwhere Valentine's t-shirt's come up around his ribs in wrinkles.He yelps like a littlepuppy and snatches at the glass, but that only tips the ice cubes out all over his stomachand makes him gasp and swear and burst out giggling."You fucker, that ain't very nice.""It's very nice."Valentine squirms for a bit longer, but stills when Lindsay lifts his t-shirt higherand starts pushing the ice cubes about: mooring one in his navel to melt there in a chillylittle pool, using another to trace the line of dark hair disappearing into his jeans untilthere's nothing left of it, writing a big wet L with the last one and then using his fingernailto scratch a V next to it, hard enough that Valentine makes a hungry little pain-noise inhis throat and then a happy sort of hum when Lindsay goes over it again with his coldfingertip, very gently, until the white of the pressure floods pink."Yeah, I'm converted, I take it back." He finds Lindsay's hand and twines theirfingers together."Come here.""I'm here.""Come down here and lie next to me and I'll show you how you stargaze.Movethem presents, come on." "I can't stand the smell of pine trees." He does it anyway, stacking gifts out of theway and awkwardly tucking himself under the lowest branches.Valentine's still holding his hand, and when he's close enough the kid presses akiss against his cheekbone and stays there, breathing quietly into Lindsay's hair, ticklinghis ear."Are you looking?""At what?""The stars.The fairy lights," he amends, when Lindsay doesn't say anything, androlls onto his back again so he's looking straight up, through the tangle of pricklybranches."I always do it.Ever since I was little, any time I thought my mum and dadweren't gonna walk in on me and batter me cos they thought I was wrecking the tree ortrying to rip the corners off the presents to see what they were, I always just.you know.Look at the lights.You see 'em better from down here, it don't look like a dying treestrangled with tinsel down here, everything's just green and all the lights and stuff, it'slike magic and fairytales, oh shit how come I'm so crap at talking?""You get enough practice," Lindsay murmurs, but it's only for something to sayand he shuts up after and just looks at the lights.Stargazes.Then a pine needle drops in his eye and he nearly knocks the tree over flailing toget out from under it."You having a fit or what?"Lindsay glares at Valentine with his one good eye, shoving his glasses up into hishair and rubbing at the other, smearing wetness all over his face because the eye won'tstop watering."Fucking.half a tree in my eye, great idea of yours, thanks very much.""Trust you to get a piney splinter even though you've got glasses on.""I'm just cursed.""Lemme see." Valentine blots himself dry by tugging his t-shirt down to where itbelongs and smoothing it out over his torso, and starts inching out from beneath the tree managing it without dislodging a single needle or decoration, Lindsay notices, and kindof wants to break his nose."Come here, stop poking at it, you'll only shove it in deeper.You'll blind yourself, you'll have to wear an eyepatch.You'd look good in an eyepatch,though, like Bowie." He trails off.His face is very close to Lindsay's; he's looking intently into his stinging right eye,and his breath against Lindsay's cheek is warm, and sweet from the chocolate baubles hekeeps nicking off the tree.The main ceiling light isn't on, only the fairy lights on the treeand wound around the garland at the fireplace, and it's putting strange shadowseverywhere, making everything look like it's in a dream or a Caravaggio painting.Chiaroscuro  he remembers the kid using the word talking about some old photos hefound in a drawer a while ago.Lindsay had put them away because he was sort ofembarrassed, but didn't do a very good job when he tried to hide them because heunderestimated Valentine's curiosity and need to poke his nose into everything.It's notthe porn aspect he's interested in, not really, because his collection of top-shelf Victorianand Edwardian photographs are mostly women [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]