Barney fastened his coat, slung his backpack over his shoulder and took a final look in the mirror. He forced a smile onto his face, the smile that had to be maintained at all costs once he reached his father’s, no matter how difficult he found it. Leaving his room, he double locked the door and turned to see Simon leaning against the wall opposite, hands in his pockets, staring at him. Barney lost his smile.
“Can’t you leave your door open?” Simon asked. “Give someone a place to crash. You’ve nothing worth nicking, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Fuck you! “No, sorry.” Barney headed for the stairs. Why the hell had he added sorry? He wasn’t sorry. He might not have much worth stealing, but no way did he want to come back to a trashed room or dirty sheets.
“You could share with me.” Simon called after him and laughed.
Been there, done it once, and never again. Simon’s version of fun was very different to his. It was both worrying and irritating that Simon wanted more. Barney hoped he’d just give up, but four months later, the guy was still lurking, still giving him looks he didn’t want, probably just trying to get him to move out so he could have Barney’s room, which was the best in the house.
The party had already started. The music was too loud, the scent of weed strong. As Barney reached the bottom of the stairs, Jamie emerged from the kitchen, holding two bottles of Corona.
“Can Mitch and Pixie sleep in your bed tonight?” Jamie asked.
“No. I’ll be sleeping in my bed tonight.” Probably. “Have a good party.” But not too good, not wreck-the-house good, not kick-my-bedroom-door-open good.
Barney stepped outside and his smile came back, his mood vastly improved by the sight of huge snowflakes floating as if by magic in the air. He loved snow. It hadn’t snowed over Christmas, just rained. His three housemates had gone home to their parents and he’d been on his own until they came back yesterday.
That sounded a bit sad, but he hadn’t minded spending Christmas alone. He’d watched what he liked on TV and been able to eat without being persuaded to cook for someone else. Most importantly, for a few days, everywhere had been tidy and spotlessly clean because after the last housemate had set off for the train station, Barney had spent hours spraying and polishing the communal rooms. He wasn’t a neat freak, but he didn’t like having to put up with other people’s dirt and mess.
Barney turned up his collar and pulled on his hat as he made his way to the bus stop a couple of streets away. He’d packed to stay overnight at his father’s, but he couldn’t count on being invited to sleep over. Since that had never happened, he doubted it would tonight, though he still hoped.
In an ideal world, he’d have a place of his own with no weirdos lurking outside his room and he’d be doing a job he loved that paid a decent wage. But Barney wasn’t currently living in an ideal world. He had two jobs, struggled to save as much money as he could for his project, and he lived in a house with one guy who freaked him out, and another two who smoked too much weed, and he could see no prospect of any of those things changing. Maybe his New Year’s resolution should be to make them change.
Yeah, right. Well, he could look for somewhere else to live, but he had his own bathroom, the room was large and reasonably priced, and the location convenient. It would be hard to find somewhere as good. Even so… Maybe he’d look in the new year.
It wasn’t a long wait before the bus pulled up. He stepped on board and pressed his card to the reader. His dad lived a few miles away in Rottingdean, in a big fuck-off house with his petite but domineering wife Debra. They had two sons and a daughter. All older than Barney. Barney’s mum had been Frank Garrett’s mistress, though Barney hadn’t understood just what that meant until he was a lot older.
Barney had seen a fair amount of his dad when he’d been small. He had his father’s name on his birth certificate and his father’s surname, but after his mother had died when Barney was twelve, he’d gone into care and that had been that. His dad only met up with him a few times a year, though he always sent him a birthday card with a cheque. Same at Christmas. Fifty quid this year, which Barney had used to buy new boots.
He understood why Debra hadn’t wanted another child in the house when she had three teenagers of her own. Though it wasn’t just that. Barney would have been a constant reminder of her husband cheating on her. Debra really wished Barney didn’t exist. But he did, and his dad invited him round every so often, or met him in town and bought him a meal. They’d last met up in October and that was when he’d invited Barney to their New Year’s Eve party. Barney hoped he hadn’t forgotten. He wouldn’t turn down any chance to be with his dad because he was the only relative who acknowledged him, and he remembered when he’d been little, how kind his dad had been to him and his mum.
It was still snowing when he got off the bus in Rottingdean and had started to settle. It was about a fifteen-minute uphill walk to his father’s house from the main road and he could see the lights display before he got there. He headed down the drive through an avenue of trees decorated with oversized baubles and smothered with fairy lights. His father had probably paid someone a lot of money to come and wrap the strings of lights around the trunk and branches. The house was illuminated too, twinkling icicles dangling from the eaves and lining every window, and there was a flickering display of snowflakes being projected onto the front of the building from a machine on the lawn. It looked lovely.
He registered the cars parked out front, the personalised number plates with the initials of his half-brothers and half-sister. No point being jealous. But I am. A bit. Though Barney’s car would be better than all these once he’d finished restoring it. He searched for the bell beneath the large Christmas wreath and pressed it.
Kaz yanked the door open with a smile on her face that fell away when she saw him. “Oh, it’s you. Mum!”
Behind her, Barney could see a huge Christmas tree festooned with colour co-ordinated decorations and big silver bows. Debra was obsessed with how things looked. She came to the door in a short, tight black dress, make-up immaculate, her hair an elaborate sculpture that could probably withstand a storm force gale. Botox had pulled all the expression out of her face.
She stared at him, rolled her eyes and yelled. “Frank!”
Uh oh. Barney didn’t have a good feeling about this. They weren’t expecting him. His dad appeared in a tux and came outside, pulling the door almost shut behind him. Barney knew that was as close as he’d get to going inside. Now he wished he’d not come.
“Hi, Barney. What’s up?”
He’s forgotten. Disappointment tugged at Barney’s heart. He didn’t want to make his dad feel bad that he hadn’t remembered inviting him, but…
“You asked me to come to your party tonight.” He plastered a smile on his face.
“Oh God. Did I? Sorry, Barney. Yeah, I did. I remember now. But there’s been a change of plan. Debra and I are off to an event at The Grand. Staying overnight. The kids are having their own party, with strict instructions not to let anyone throw up in the pool.” He chuckled. “But I’m sure they won’t mind you joining them.”
Oh God, do you know them at all? Though from the way his dad was blocking the door, Barney knew he didn’t expect to him to stay. “No, that’s fine. I’ve got another party I can go to. I just…”
Barney backed away. He was annoyed with himself for looking forward to this. He’d keep the chocolates he’d bought for Debra, and the mince pies he’d made himself and the wine he’d bought for his dad. The wine and the chocolates had cost him more than he should have spent, but he’d wanted to get something that would impress them. He tried to smile and couldn’t.
“Happy New Year, Dad.” Barney set off down the drive.
“Happy New Year,” his father said. “I’ll give you a call.”
Right.
“Did you get rid of that loser?” The loudness of Kaz’s voice showed she’d intended him to hear. “I don’t want him at our party.”
“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s leaving anyway.”
The door slammed and Barney jumped as if he’d been shot in the back. His heart felt like a lump of iron in his chest. He’d never asked his dad for help with anything. Partly out of pride, and partly because he knew Debra would veto any request, no matter how small. The annoying thing was that when his dad was around, she was sweetness and light. But if she saw Barney out in town, she ignored him and once, she’d come into the WHSmith’s where he worked, and cut him dead when he’d greeted her.
His dad owned car dealerships in Brighton and Sevenoaks that specialised in expensive cars like Ferraris and Lamborghinis. The faster the car, the more likely his dad was to stock it. Barney had talked to him about the car he was restoring, so his dad knew he wanted to be a mechanic, but Barney had never been offered a job and he was too proud to ask, too worried that he’d be turned down.
Back at the junction with the main road, he hesitated. Right took him to Brighton, but he didn’t want to go back to the house. Not this soon. It would be self-inflicted torture to listen to the others having a good time, even if it wasn’t the sort of good time he liked. Straight across the road led to the sea.
In the end, he crossed the road and started to walk back to Brighton. The snow was still fluttering down, but he wasn’t cold. He had his big chunky-knit scarf wrapped around his neck, and his blue gloves on his hands. If he got fed up of walking, he could catch the bus. Trouble was, walking gave him time to think, and thinking wasn’t good for his current state of mind.
I’m not happy. But he wasn’t sure how to make himself happy. A new job would help. One that paid enough that he didn’t have to work two jobs. A boyfriend would be nice too. One that didn’t cheat on him, or take him for granted, or knock him around. Barney seemed to have been a bit unlucky with boyfriends, and Simon definitely wasn’t going to get another chance, no matter how hard he lurked.
Thinking about jobs and boyfriends was not going to make him happy. There was no prospect of getting a job as a trainee mechanic because he had no qualifications, and there was no boyfriend because he’d lost faith in finding one who’d be as kind to him as he would be to them.
When a bus pulled up as he reached a stop, he took it as a sign he’d done enough thinking and climbed on. It was warm on board and he took off his gloves and snuggled down in the seat, rubbing the condensation off the window so he could look out at the falling snow. He wished this was a magical bus and he could just keep going, out of Brighton, out of England. Go on an adventure.
But all his adventures were inside his head. He didn’t even have a passport. Though it was more than that. Barney had always been a good boy. His mother had brought him up that way. To be kind and generous. To obey the rules and be careful. So Barney rarely took risks, rarely did the unexpected. Does that make me dull? He clenched his fists in his pockets. Do something brave tonight. He could go to a club and dance, hope that someone might dance with him, dream that someone might be a guy who’d want to see him again…
He stepped off the bus onto a busy promenade full of happy people, many of whom, judging by the meandering path they were taking, were already drunk. Considering it was snowing, he was surprised how little some were wearing, but pubs, clubs and restaurants all over Brighton would be heaving tonight with New Year events, many of which would be costume parties.
As Barney dodged revellers weaving their way along the pavement, he decided he’d treat himself to fish and chips. He was normally frugal with his money, but there was no point thinking he’d be able to use the kitchen back at the house. As he walked along the promenade, he spotted a noisy group ahead and a feeling in his gut told him to be careful.
Despite Brighton largely being a haven for gays, there was an element of the population that resented that, and Barney had good instincts for sensing trouble. But this could just as easily be drug related. He’d begun to detour when he realised two of the men were kicking someone lying curled up on the ground. Oh fuck.
Barney hesitated until he heard a cry of pain, then he ran at the group, hoping surprise might make them scatter. “Hey, stop it!” he shouted as he pushed his way through.
“Get fucking lost.” A guy elbowed Barney hard in the ribs and he yelped and reeled back only to be shoved forward by a protesting woman.
So much for being careful and not taking risks, but Barney wasn’t going to walk away and leave someone to get beaten. When the guy on the ground was kicked again, Barney pulled out his phone and pressed 9-9-9. “I’m calling the police.”
The guy who’d elbowed him snatched the phone from Barney’s hand, threw it on the ground and stamped on it. Pieces scattered everywhere. Shiiit. He heard someone laugh, then a menacing face with multiple piercings, topped by a crewcut, invaded Barney’s space. Barney stood his ground, but inside he was freaking out. I should have just phoned the police, not announced I was doing it. Idiot!
“Come on, Kenzo!” a woman shouted. “He might have got through to the cops. Leave it.”
“I know your face from somewhere,” the guy in front of him said. “Don’t let me see it again.”
Barney gulped. “I know your face too. Better run while you can.”
“Are you threatening me?” Kenzo laughed.
The faint sound of siren filled the air and the guy snorted, turned and walked away with the others.
Oh fuck. Barney’s courage dissolved. He dropped down by the man who lay curled up on the ground. Homeless, by the look of the rolled-up sleeping bag and collection of plastic carriers. He was breathing heavily and groaning. When he tried to get up, Barney took his arm and helped him. Blood was trickling down the guy’s cheek.
“No police,” he muttered. “Little fuckers.”
“You mean the guys who attacked you and not the police, right?”
The man huffed out a laugh, clutched his side and gasped.
Barney glanced at the remains of his phone and sighed. It was insured, but he’d be without one for a few days. “Are you okay?”
The man was taller than Barney, with a scraggy beard. It was hard to tell how old he was, but Barney guessed mid to late thirties. Probably ten or so years older than him. His hat was pulled low over his forehead and he looked as if he was wearing several layers of clothing.
“Your cheek’s bleeding.” Barney found a clean tissue in his pocket and dabbed at the guy’s face.
The man took the tissue from Barney’s fingers and held it there himself.
“Are you injured anywhere else?”
“I’m bruised. I’ll live. Unlike your phone. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Barney picked up the pieces and stuffed them in his pocket.
The police siren faded away.
“It is my fault. Thanks for coming to my aid. I appreciate it.”
“What did you do? Look at one of them? Mutter some innocuous comment that was taken the wrong way? Like only a mother could love a face like yours?”
The guy laughed, then grimaced in pain. “How did you guess?”
“I’ve been given a black eye twice for looking at someone. Not the same someone. I’m not that much of an idiot. But even a glance is too much when an arsehole is in that sort of mood.” He smiled at the guy and held out his hand. “My name’s Barney.”
The guy hesitated, then shook his hand. “Raf.”
“Are you sleeping rough?” Barney asked. “Or on your way to a costume party as a homeless person?”
“That’s an interesting thought and I wish I could say you’d guessed correctly, but no, I’m sleeping rough.”
“Are the hostels all full?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.” Barney felt sorry for the guy. “Can I buy you some fish and chips? I was just about to get some.”
The silence was so long, Barney wondered whether to repeat what he’d said.
“Do you have an ulterior motive?”
Barney frowned. “Such as? Wanting to nick your sleeping bag?”
Raf smiled. “I was thinking more in terms of you wanting to lead me onto the path of righteousness, and before I got to eat a chip, we’d pray together for Jesus to save me.”
“Er no. You can just eat the fish and chips. I might talk because I’m a bit of a gabbler, but not about Jesus.”
“I’d love fish and chips. Thanks.”
“The best fish and chip shop in Brighton is this way. You okay walking?”
“I’m fine. I think you saved me from serious injury. They were egging each other on. You were brave.”
A warm feeling surged through Barney’s gut. He probably been more stupid than brave, but he’d take brave. The two of them continued along the seafront, the snow falling a little more heavily. There was a thickening layer on the ground.
“You’re not out partying tonight?” Raf asked.
He had quite a posh voice. A nice voice. A voice that didn’t belong to a homeless person, but Barney knew better than to make snap judgements. There were all sorts of reasons why people were homeless and not all of them were to do with drugs and alcohol.
“No. Just doing my superhero thing. Looking for people in trouble, and I didn’t even have to activate my patented superpower.”
“Which is?”
“Screaming very loudly. I also have a pink belt in karate.”
“Is there a pink belt?”
Barney laughed. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you sit here in this shelter while I nip across the road to get the food? Fish and chips or something else? Pie? Battered sausage? Salt and vinegar, a drink? Little wooden fork?”
“Fish and chips would be great. Plenty of salt and vinegar. Yes, to the fork. Black coffee, no sugar. Thank you. I’ve got fifty pence…”
“My treat. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Barney smiled and hurried across the road.
He wasn’t doing this guy a favour to make himself feel good, but he did feel good about helping him. Was that wrong? Okay, so his New Year’s Eve hadn’t turned out to be the party at his dad’s that he’d hoped for, but at least he had a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head and enough money to buy something hot to eat. He worried that cash given to homeless people might end up getting spent on drugs or alcohol, but he was fine about buying someone a drink or a sandwich. Or fish and chips.
Raf seemed a little…different to most of the homeless people Barney saw around town. Even with the offer of food, he did wonder if Raf would be sitting in the shelter when he got back, but he was on the bench, staring out to sea, and Barney dropped down beside him. Raf started when he saw him, but being homeless would keep you on edge and Raf had already had a bad scare that night.
“Only me.” Barney put the food and the coffees between them.
“Thank you.”
Barney unwrapped the paper from around his tray of food and opened it up on his lap. His mouth was watering and he sighed with pleasure when he bit into the first hot chip. The top ones were the best because they had the perfect amount of salt.
“I don’t know why they taste better eating them outside, but they do, don’t you think?” Barney glanced at Raf. “Even when it’s freezing cold and snowing, though at least it’s not snowing on us under here. Thank you to the Victorians who built this shelter and the wind for blowing offshore.”
Raf was eating quickly, almost shovelling the food in, but he nodded.
“How long have you been homeless?”
“Not long.”
“A bad time of year to have no roof over your head.”
“Yep.”
“What did you do before you became homeless?”
“Lived in a house.”
Barney laughed, then snapped it off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. Am I asking too many questions? But I meant what did you do for a living?”
“I owned a company.”
“Oh wow.” Barney couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to lose a house and a company. Maybe a wife too.
“What about you?” Raf asked.
“I don’t own a company. Or a house.”
Raf chuckled.
“My day job is on the till at WHSmith. Three evenings a week, I clean business premises, when I’m not roaming the streets of Brighton being a superhero, obviously.”
“Are you working tomorrow?”
“Not at WHSmith’s. I have the day off. Though I have to do the cleaning job because there’s only me on duty over the holiday. Instead of going in late after everyone’s left, I can go in early because no one’s working tomorrow.”
That gave him an idea. Definitely not a good one. One that was out of character. But… The snow started to fall more thickly, obscuring the view of the sea, and Barney winced. He couldn’t leave Raf out in this.
Raf finished eating before him and balled up the paper. “Thanks for that. I need to get somewhere under cover before all the good spots are taken.”
“Would you like my scarf?” Barney blurted. It was his favourite one, but he had another.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m fine.”
“Would… Would you like to come home with me?” Oh God. Did I ask him that?
Raf just stared at him, probably able to tell that Barney had not meant to blurt that out. But he had and he’d stick by his offer.
“Are you sure?” Raf asked.
Barney took a deep breath. “I’ll have to sneak you in, put your stuff somewhere before we arrive so you don’t look homeless… Oh that sounded bad. I’m sorry. I’ll go down and get your things once you’re in my room. I have a shower. You can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor. But we have to be careful to get in without anyone noticing.”
One look at Raf, and the others, no matter how stoned and drunk they were, would object to a homeless guy coming into the house. Raf was either a big or wearing a lot of layers and his clothes were dirty. If Barney’s housemates saw him, Barney would be the butt of their jokes for eternity. Probably longer. Barney and the tramp. He could hear them say it.
“Really?” Raf stared straight at him.
“Yes, I really have a shower.” Barney smiled. I’m an idiot.
“Are you thinking you’re an idiot?”
“Oh my God! You have a superpower too. Reading minds is so much more useful than screaming loudly.”
Raf chuckled. “I’m not sure about that.”
Barney sighed. “I’m taking a risk but as long as you don’t trash the place or steal stuff or kill me and spray blood all over the walls, it should be fine. If you are intending to kill me, please don’t make a mess.”
“The mess wouldn’t matter if you were dead.”
“That’s true. So make a mess. It will be my parting gift to my irritating housemates.” This conversation had taken a weird turn.
“I’d be taking a risk too,” Raf said. “You might be luring me somewhere so the group that attacked me earlier can torture and kill me. You lulled me into a false sense of security by helping me, but you’re in league with them and they’re waiting for us to arrive at your house.”
A really weird turn. Barney gaped at him. I like him. “But then I wouldn’t have bought you fish and chips and coffee because torture would result in you vomiting, and think of the mess. Who’d clean it up?”
Raf gave a choked laugh.
“Do you think that lot have enough brain power to plan kidnap and torture?” Barney asked.
“No. You’re right.”
“I live with three other guys but tonight the house will be full of people because they’re having a party. It’ll go on and on and it’ll be noisy but at least you’ll be warm, and you can get clean.”
“Do I smell? Ack, don’t answer that.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you did, but I thought maybe you’d appreciate a shower.”
“I would. Thank you. I think… I think that sounds great. The kindest thing anyone has offered me for a long time. Maybe in forever.” Raf gave a short laugh. “I won’t let you down. I promise not to steal anything or trash the place.”
“Or spray blood everywhere?”
“I’m a very tidy killer.”
Barney gulped. “Don’t forget about my pink belt in karate and my superpower.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. I won’t mess with you.”
Barney was only slightly reassured.
