“Bullshit. I know you used to. If we are going to hear this intriguing tale of mystery, I want us all at least partially stoned. And this is good stuff, isn’t it, Shan?”
“Tufnell Park’s finest.”
“Nish met this little man—” says Josh, as he is lighting up.
“Hush,” says Nishan. “You know that information is classified.”
Josh has just taken a drag on the joint and chokes with laughter.
“Honestly, Gabriel,” says Nishan, chuckling along. “Was he always this indiscreet?”
“Always.”
As they pass around the joint, I share stories about living under the Callico House roof, their basement pool, Albert’s snobbish siblings and the uncomfortable family dinners. When I talk fondly about Albert, about how he took me in—we hadn’t really broached that subject the one time Josh met him—the questions begin.
‘Was he good to you?’ ‘Yes, very good, helped me on my feet and was the one who secured the job for me.’ ‘Did he defend you in front of his family?’ ‘Always.’ Even when I wasn’t there, according to Alice. Sometimes I felt he could be overprotective, which was frankly ludicrous, bearing in mind my past, and when he appeared to be the one needing protection from that horrendous household. And he’d liked that I could talk about real issues, what was happening in the world, outside his family and work. Inevitably, with Josh anyway, the subject turns to sex.
“Albert would have fallen under the A category in LGBTQIA,” I tell them.
“Wait, stop. You lived for three years with that hot daddy and never once had sex?” says Josh, eventually. “What profession did he push you into again? Priesthood?”
“I see your boyfriend’s still a dick,” I say to Nishan and get a nod and a shrug in response. “Still making elephants out of flies.”
“Making what out of what?” asks Nishan, an eyebrow rising.
“Don’t worry, Shan,” says Josh, waving smoke from his face. “He often comes out with shit like that. No, seriously though, Gabe. How did you cope?”
“You have a short memory if you’ve forgotten the things we had to do to survive on the streets. I found someone who wanted to take care of me, wanted to help ground me, withoutdemanding anything in return except company. If he had wanted sex, I would have been more than happy to oblige. He didn’t, and he also trusted me. We were partners who were good for each other, and I’m going to really miss that selflessness, really miss him.”
“Of course you are,” says Nishan, plucking the joint from Josh’s hand and giving him an admonishing glare before taking a deep draw. “The way Josh talked about him, I thought he might be an uncle or something.”
Something in Nishan’s words carries a sinister undertone that gives me a cold, unsettling feeling. Perhaps it’s the insinuation that people believed I was a kept boy, which is far from the truth.
“The day he died, I was supposed to be in the minibus with him.”
That statement stills them both. I tell them about the last-minute change of plans, the argument between us and finally, about getting news of the accident. While I have their attention, I tell them about my visit to the solicitor and the derelict property in Italy, then explain the cypher and the secret message Albert left me, word for word. When Nishan offers me the joint, I take a hit and notice Josh waiting to speak. I am sure he is going to berate me for turning down the money Albert left me, but instead, he says something I am not expecting.
“He saved your life.”
I puff out a cloud of smoke. Josh and I have always been on the same wavelength.
“Maybe.”
“Could he have been involved in anything dodgy?” asks Nishan.
“Albert? Never. Josh met him. Straight as a Roman road. Professionally, he was a well-respected infectious diseases specialist working with a team of biochemists, immunologists and virologists to find a cure for AIDS.”
“The same team of people on the bus with him?”
“I know what you’re thinking, but no. The others were colleagues who studied different areas of medicine. More like friends. They just happened to be attending the same conference.”
“Well, he obviously found something out,” says Nishan. “And, from what you tell us, he doesn’t sound like the sort of person who would go to the trouble of formulating a warning message like that for no reason. Telling you to get out and stay offline is pretty hardcore. Did he seem strange—scared or distant—the last time you saw him?”
I like Nishan. He asks insightful questions. I try to think back to that last night and remember Albert had been weird in a distracted way. At the time, I’d assumed he was upset because I was being a bastard to him.
“Not scared, no. But something was troubling him. The thing is, I’d seen him like that before. Like when he was working through a problem in his research or considering something his brother had said to irritate him. He didn’t seem so much scared as preoccupied, trying to figure something out.”
They are quiet for a time and quickly glance at each other. Although no words are spoken between them, I can see they are coming to the same conclusion.