Chapter Five


+


The coffee pooled in Elijah’s belly making him feel sick again but plain biscuits turned out to be a completely different thing. Nearly a packet of Rich Tea later and he felt well enough to shower and get dressed. That, he decided, was probably enough effort for one day and he slumped on the sofa dozing through the football and some obscure sport from some obscure country.

Orli pottered around for a while, and then flopped out next to him. "What are we watching?" he asked.

"Well you missed the windsurfing and the show jumping, the best I can find now is a kids film about pirates."

"That’ll do me," Orli rested his head back against the edge of the sofa and closed his eyes. He was startled when he suddenly felt Elijah’s head twisting in his lap as he lay down and got comfortable. Elijah settled on his side, pushing a fold of Orli’s jeans flat so that he could still see the television.

Hesitantly, Orli put his hand on Elijah’s head. It wasn’t rejected. Elijah yawned and turned the volume down a bit as the pirates screamed up the hillside. ‘Kaboom!’ the kid on the film shouted, as he threw a home made bomb down the slope. Elijah yawned again and snuggled down till his shoulder just fitted around the curve of Orli’s leg.

"Forgive me?" Orli asked quietly. "Please."

"Already have," Elijah said equally as softly. "Doesn’t mean I’ll forget or let it happen again though."

"It won’t, I promise."

"Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"Yeah."

"Then it’s done, time to move on now."

Orli’s fingers started to move in Elijah’s hair. Weaving a strand backwards and forwards through his fingers till it ran smooth and easy as though that was were it had been designed to fit. "I love you."

"And that mate, is the only reason I’ve forgiven you," Elijah rubbed his cheek almost imperceptibly against Orli’s leg. "That and the fact that I love you too and that, although you have a whole shed load of bad points, you’re too good to lose."

"Elijah I…"

"What?" Elijah looked up and then back to the television screen again. "There’s nothing else you can say." He huffed a breath and stretched out his legs so his toes pushed against the end of the sofa. Orli felt a flush of something warm, something comforting. He knew what that meant; he knew Elijah’s body language well enough to know that he had more to say.

"What?" Orli repeated Elijah’s question back to him.

"You’re always telling me I have to believe in myself," Elijah started, looking firmly at the flickering screen. "That I have to believe I can change. Well, you have to start proving that you do too. I know what it’s like to be jealous and I can understand you don’t like it if other people come onto me – I sure as hell don’t like it when they do it to you – but what are we gonna do? Never let each other out of our sight? You have to have some faith in me."

"But I do, Jesus I do. I…"

"It’s no good just saying it anymore, you have to act like you trust me."

Orli closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers tracing out the curve and texture of Elijah’s skull as he thought. Just a small amount of bone and he could spend the rest of his life losing himself in its shape. Over and over his fingers ran, around the root of each hair in that tiny patch. Years worth of work just to memorize that segment and then there was the rest of Elijah’s head before his neck and his shoulders and…

He opened his eyes. "I’ll do my best."

"That’s all I can ask and all I can offer in return because I can’t make absolute promises Orlando. I will try to play fair by you but I make so many mistakes, do so many things wrong that I can’t make any guarantees."

"You don’t make mistakes; you try so hard and I know you’ll always do your best," there were so many things Orli wanted to say, but they were all coming out in a rush and he couldn’t seem to do justice to any of them.

Elijah turned the volume down on the television completely. "I’ll try my best but it’s hard when I can see in your eyes that you don’t think I can do it."

"It’s not that!" Orli sucked in a breath and calmed his voice down. "It’s not that I don’t think you can, it’s…" he stopped to think about what he really meant. "Right at the beginning, when we first got together, I knew you’d do your best but if you failed, well, at least you’d tried. But now it all matters so much more. I love you so bloody much that I’m scared and I’ve never been so jealous in my whole life, and that includes Shane. With you it’s different, I feel different. When someone looked at Shane I was flattered, it was like, ‘Yeah, my boyfriend’s really hot.’ But with you…"

Orli blew out a long, slow stream of air through his lips. "With you I just want to beat their brains out.

"Idiot," Elijah said softly.

"I know, I’m fucking ridiculous. But I want to stand in front of you, with a huge sword in my hand, and chop down anyone who even dares to look at you." He twisted his fingers deeper into Elijah’s hair. "’Lijah, none of this is your problem. It’s mine and I have to deal with it, but…" he tugged on the hair in his hand and Elijah obligingly twisted round till he was looking up at Orli.

"Even when I’d driven myself nuts wondering where you were and what you were doing, there was a rational little bit of me, deep inside, that had faith in you. If I go mad again will you remind me about it?"

"That I can do," Elijah looked up at him. "And if it doesn’t work I’ll just whack you round the head with a frying pan and pray that when you wake up you’re back to normal."

Orli didn’t laugh as Elijah had expected. "You do that," he said, completely seriously. "Because I promise what happened out in the hall will never happen again, and this does come with a cast iron guarantee."

"Okay," Elijah said. "And that’s it, we’re finished with it now."

"What I did to you was so…"

"No, shut up about it now," Elijah interrupted. "It’s done, it’s over, it’s not happening again. We move on, end of argument."

"All right," Orli said, his hand repeatedly brushing the hair back from Elijah’s forehead. With his hair like that and his face exposed, Orli could see the child Elijah had once been. "We move on."

Elijah stared at him for a moment then smiled and rolled back, turning up the television. The family in the film were now rolling logs down the hill onto the pantomime pirates, there was even a tiger in a pit, but although there were lots of injured men there didn’t seem to be any blood.

They watched in silence for a while.

"How are you feeling now?" Orli asked. "Is your belly ready for dinner?"

"I don’t know," Elijah groaned. "Perhaps something bland that won’t hurt on the way back up."

"You really did a number last night, I’ve never seen you so drunk."

"Think yourself honoured; much as I need it sometimes, I don’t get falling-flat-on-my-face drunk in front of anyone. I save that little gem for in private."

"Why?"

"Oh come on," Elijah rolled his head round, trying to ease the kink in his neck. "You know why, you can work it out."

"Tell me. What happened?"

Elijah looked up at Orli, considering. He shook his head, just a little. "No, you’re not ready to hear it."

"But I want to know, I want to know everything that ever happened to you in the past."

"Then maybe I’m not ready to tell you, I probably will in the future, but not now."

"’Lijah," Orli said, suddenly desperately. "There can’t be secrets."

"This isn’t a secret, not really. You can guess what happened but now isn’t the time to talk about it."

"I have to prove I can handle it first?"

Elijah shrugged. "We have to calm down, get easy again. I have so much to worry about that I can’t take on…" he tailed off into nothing.

"You can’t worry about my reaction as well." It was a statement not a question. "It’s not fair is it, what I’ve done to you?"

"Told you, it’s finished now."

"But I wanted to be supportive and instead you have to be on your guard with me," Orli flopped out, scrubbing his hand across his eyes. "Christ I’m sorry."

Elijah sat up, twisting round so he was close up to Orli, his bent knee hooked over Orli’s thigh. "Orlando listen to me," he pulled Orli’s hand away from face. "I’m not on my guard with you, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I got passing-out-drunk in front of you and I don’t do that; not ever, not with anyone.

I didn’t plan to get that drunk last night. I just started drinking and it made me forgot about uni so I had a few more and yeah, that moment came, that moment when I know I have to stop, and I just thought, ‘fuck it, I’m all right here,’ so I carried on."

"You felt safe enough to get pissed in front of me?"

"Yes." They sat and stared at each other for a long moment. "I also feel safe enough to tell you anything you need to know."

"You don’t have to," Orli ran a hand through his hair but the tension had gone. "You’re right, now isn’t the time, but," he looked at Elijah. "Just tell me one thing, have you ever been raped? After what I did to you I know I have no to right to ask, but I need to know," he rushed on quickly. "You said what I did wasn’t rape and I have to believe you. But if I took you back there, made you think about it again because I was so out of control that…."

"No," Elijah covered Orli’s mouth with his hand, silencing him. "I’ve never been raped. I’ve come close but I’ve handled it." He took his hand away slowly.

"Honestly? Don’t lie to make me feel better."

"You’re the only person I don’t lie to."

"And you trust me enough to not be in control with me?" Orli worked out the significance of Elijah’s actions. "And not just getting drunk, when we’re in bed and you let go… You really do trust me."

Elijah nodded.

"Now I have to show you I trust you as much."

Elijah nodded again.

"I do you know, trust you. I just…" it was Orli’s turn to shrug. "You’re too important to lose."

"I’m not going anywhere."

"And I have to really believe that."

"Yep."

"I’ll try, and you promise to hit me with that frying pan if it looks like I’m failing."

"Deal," Elijah smiled and sat back. That was it, as far as he was concerned that conversation was over. "Now, do you want to watch the rest of the film or get something to eat?"

"Have we got anything?" Orli asked. "No one’s been food shopping for ages."

"There’s bacon and eggs," Elijah mused. "Oh and I fancy fried bread."

"I thought you wanted something bland." Orli thanked God that they could have a normal conversation again.

"I changed my mind," he grinned. "Let’s watch the rest of film and then have a big fry up."

"Just please, don’t make me clear it up if you throw up again."


+


After dinner they walked down Tooting high road to the local supermarket. All right so maybe it wasn’t the greatest way to spend a Saturday night but they walked hand-in-hand and now, pushing the trolley with the dodgy wheel round the surprisingly busy aisles, Orli felt like he’d found his place in the world.

They argued over which type of bread to buy and how much beer they could carry without having to get a taxi home. Orli had raised an eyebrow when Elijah had put four times the amount of fruit in the trolley than Orli would have bought before Elijah had arrived.

Before Elijah had arrived. Orli didn’t want to think about it now; that half life of day-by-day getting by in the darkness. Now the lights were on and… he could have ruined it.

He’d make sure there was never a risk of that happening again.

On the way back, weighed down with plastic carrier bags, they’d stopped at the dvd rental store. Twenty five minutes later and their packets of cereal and biscuits were all over the floor and they’d argued over every possible film. In the end they headed out with no film and not the slightest bit bothered. At the pub on the corner Orli had gestured inside but Elijah took one look and shook his head.

Back indoors they put the food away, made a pretence of rotating the salad, then collapsed in front of the telly till Elijah got bored. "Come to bed," he suggested to Orli.

"It’s still early."

"I know but I’m tired."

"I’m not, I haven’t done anything all day," Orli said. "We didn’t even go to football." Orli said.

"So? I’m tired and I don’t sleep as well if you’re not there," when Orli looked up Elijah added a huge, make believe smile and stood in front of the television.

"Okay," he admitted defeat and headed for the bedroom.

Elijah turned off the lights and went to clean his teeth. "You know you could have gone to football today," he shouted around a mouthful of toothpaste. "You didn’t have to stay in and baby sit me. In fact I could have come with you." He rinsed and looked for the towel to wipe his face. "Well I could if I’d have woken up, I’d have just looked like shit. And felt like it. It’s funny but a nice big greasy fry up and I feel fine again. Why do you think it works like that Orli? Surely that sort of food should bomb in your belly and make you turn green but it doesn’t. It makes you feel human again and …"

Elijah stopped just inside the doorway to the bedroom. Orli was standing by Elijah’s side of the bed, his hands by his sides, his face just hiding an edge of fear, completely naked.

"Do you want me?" Orli asked simply.

They stood for a long moment simply looking at each other as Orli offered himself.

"Yes," the word slipped from between Elijah’s lips along with a breath.

"Then I’m yours," and Orli took a step closer towards Elijah before stopping and ducking his head.

"Orli," Elijah said, the sound long, drawn out and rough. He reached out and cupped along Orli’s jaw, his fingertips pressing into the back of Orli’s neck. In the next moment he pulled Orli into a tight embrace, rubbing his face into Orli’s neck, squashing Orli’s naked body against his clothes.

Orli tentatively put his arms up and around Elijah’s back, stroking a hold up to his shoulder blades. He turned his face to Elijah’s, his breath brushing against Elijah’s lips. "Yours," he said again.

"Orlando," Elijah repeated in turn, his voice low and heartfelt with a rasp of underlying need.

And then Elijah was kissing Orli, his mouth wide and desperate, his tongue seeking possession and reassurance as his hands scrabbled against Orli’s spine. Elijah kissed again, pushing Orli back with each hard stab of his tongue, till Orli was forced to take a step. Only there was no room and nowhere to go and he fell, clutching Elijah to him, as he went backwards onto the bed.

Elijah pushed him further up onto the mattress, his knee firm between Orli’s open thighs, his hands rubbing hard over Orli’s nipples before running down to his hips.

Orli let one hand just rest against Elijah’s back, no pressure, no force, and let his legs and his mouth open wider still.

Elijah pushed in; harsh denim scraping over Orli’s semi-hard cock, his tongue reaching into each corner, each hidden secret of Orli’s mouth.

Suddenly Elijah sat back and his hands fumbled his t shirt up over his head, for a moment it caught on his ear and he tore at it in frustration. Then it was gone, thrown carelessly towards the end of the bed, and he started in on his trousers. The button was flipped, the zip was pulled but before he could get them off any further he was back down kissing Orli with a passion that startled himself.

He licked across Orli’s lips and kissed up around his jaw line, pushing his face into Orli’s flesh until the kiss was more of a graze; a wet, warm, impassioned graze. Elijah reached down blindly trying to find Orli’s hand, eventually capturing it and entwining their fingers before bringing them up next to Orli’s head.

Elijah could feel his breath panting in his chest as he rubbed his hard cock against Orli’s and kissed, rubbed, licked his way back to Orli’s mouth. He pushed his tongue back in, feeling the soft stretch and give of Orli’s lips as he reached deeper.

But it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough.

He grabbed at his trousers with his free hand, frantically trying to drag them down, but they caught on his hip in a lopsided tangle. "Bugger," he muttered, pulling back again to try and wriggle out of them. In the end he had to climb off Orli and twist and squirm and struggle to get them off. Then he was back round, kneeling on the bed next to Orli, looking down ready.

Orli: his Orli.

Orli, who lay there, open and exposed. His legs bent up and out at the knees, his arms up by his head. Orli: with his messed up, sticking-up-straight-because-he’d-just-scratched-his-head hair, his gorgeous eyelashes, his cheek bones to die for, his too red, bruised lips.

Orli stared up at Elijah and ran his tongue slowly over his lips. "Whatever you want," he said softly.

Elijah stopped; the desperation slipping away.

He ran his hand slowly up Orli’s thigh, over his cock, to just rest on his lower belly.

Orli didn’t move.

Elijah ran his hand back down, his fingertips dancing along the length of Orli’s cock before they cupped his balls, just tight enough, just the way Orli liked.

Orli carried on staring at him.

Elijah ducked his head and swirled his tongue around the tip of Orli’s cock, dipping into the slit.

Orli pulled his hips back slightly. "Whatever you want. Let me make it so good for you."

Elijah sat on his heels again and chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Whatever I want?" he checked.

"Yeah, whatever."

Elijah nodded and crawled over Orli’s body, lowering himself slowly till he fit snugly between the open circle of Orli’s thighs. He ground his hips round slowly and nipped Orli’s lip between his teeth, pulling. One hand slipped down Orli’s side, his fingers sneaking underneath to pull and push at softly muscled flesh.

Orli yielded even further.

Lapping around the edges of Orli’s mouth, Elijah pressed down more firmly as his free hand went up and under the pillow searching. He nudged Orli’s head back with his chin and kissed down the column of his throat, running his open mouth across the stubbled bulge of his Adam’s apple, the whole time his backside lifting and falling in a subtle dance.

Without looking or lifting his head Elijah flipped open the bottle of lube and then pressed it firmly into Orli’s hand.

Orli opened his eyes. "What? You want me to prepare myself?

"No," Elijah kissed the corner of Orli’s mouth. "I want you to prepare me."

"But ’Lijah no, I…" Orli tried to pull away, but the press of Elijah’s body meant he had nowhere to go.

"You what? I thought you said ‘whatever I want.’"

"I did but…" Orli flustered. "That’s not what I meant."

"So I can’t have whatever I want?"

"No! Yes. Of course you can but… I want to make it good for you."

"Oh you do, trust me you do," Elijah smiled and curled Orli’s fingers around the bottle. "This is what I want, so let’s get on with it."

"Elijah I can’t not after…"

Elijah slapped his hand over Orli’s mouth cutting off any more words. "If you say another dumb arsed thing you are seriously going to regret it," he squeezed his fingers. "In fact it would be best if you didn’t say anything at all. We both know how ridiculously overdramatic you can be and, if you do it now, I’ll get cross with you. You need to think about your next move very, very carefully."

"Hmh," Orli tried to speak.

"Uh, uh, uh," Elijah squeezed again. "Admit I’m right, as usual. I know what’s best. Now you said whatever I want…" he let the implication hang in the air.

He kissed the tip of Orli’s nose and then rested his own against it so his eyes had to boggle to focus. "Are you gonna fuck me?" he smiled. "And this is most definitely a yes or no answer. In fact you might just want to nod."

Orli looked.

Oh God, he loved Elijah. Elijah, who was their sanity, their saving grace, their…

He nodded.

Elijah grinned, wide and happy and pulled his hand away, kissing Orli softly on the mouth, his lips pressing just hard enough at first to feel their roundness and the pressure needed to make them squash into his.

Orli didn’t know whether to keep his eyes open so he could watch or give into the inevitable.

Elijah pulled himself up slightly, angling his head so that their mouths fitted perfectly and as both arms came up to tangle round Orli’s neck.

Orli gave in and closed his eyes, his hands cupping onto Elijah’s back so he could feel each rib, each gap in between. And then suddenly he was pulled and heaved and rolled until he was on top, his legs splayed out over Elijah’s, Elijah’s mouth still stuck like a limpet to his.

Elijah tightened his grip on Orli’s hand till the bottle was cutting in painfully. "Now," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Orli took the bottle and squeezed out a dollop with a rude plop. He smeared it over his fingers and then did a weird dance of reorganisation as he pulled his legs together and wriggled Elijah’s apart. At last he was in position, lying between Elijah’s open thighs. He kissed him once more, softly, gently and with as much passion and meaning as he could muster.

He knew if he said anything now, said sorry again, Elijah would only be annoyed with him. But Orli wanted to say it; he wanted to scream and shout how sorry he was and how much he loved Elijah, how much he would always love Elijah. He wanted to scream it out of the window, off the roof tops, standing in the middle of Tooting High Road. Instead he slipped his hand down and pushed one finger gently forward till he felt the wall of muscle.

He stopped, his forehead resting on Elijah’s chest just for a moment before he looked up. "Elijah can’t we wait for a bit to do this? I mean, what’s the rush?"

"What are we waiting for?" Elijah asked, his hand stroking over Orli’s shoulder. "Don’t you want to fuck me? Never again?"

"I do it’s just…"

"What?" Elijah cocked an eyebrow. "I don’t want to work up to it, taking each stage slowly like there’s something wrong, something we have to get past."

"I know but it seems…" Orli felt like he was always running out of words.

"But what? We’re past that, I want to be back to us and you said I can have anything I want. We like to fuck; and right now I want you to fuck me." He caught Orli’s chin and held it fast. "And I don’t want it soft and girly. You don’t have to go mad but I want it the way we like it; the way you like it. I want it our way with no shadows and no holding back."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I don’t play games with you and I’m not going to start now. Forget all the crap and let’s get on with the good stuff." And that, Elijah decided, was enough talking. He pulled Orli’s head down and kissed him – full on, hard as he could – while he pushed his arse over and round and… right onto Orli’s finger. With a flick of his hips one leg was lifted high, the other up so that the heel of his foot was in the small of Orli’s back and he pressed down.

Orli’s groin was caught between Elijah’s body and his foot, his own hand somewhere in the mix, his finger… oh god, it was so tightly pressed against a quivering solid wall…. Only it wasn’t so solid now, it pulsed once, twitched and Orli was in.

Elijah sighed in satisfaction and wriggled the way only he knew how. He pushed down with his hips and his heel and Orli’s finger shot deeper.

"Slow down," Orli warned. "You might not want girly but there’s no need to rush it." He stopped Elijah from answering by twisting his finger and stroking; there, just there.

Elijah shuddered, his legs hooking up onto Orli’s shoulders in automatic response. "That’s my boy, keep it going just like…. holy shit…" Elijah caught his bottom lip between his teeth.

Orli kept it going, adding a second finger and then a third, twisting and opening and stroking just the right spot to make Elijah breathless and squirm. He leaned over, licking a trail up and over his chin to his lips, to kiss him sweet and hot.

"Now, Batman, do it now," Elijah panted, his eyes… at first Orli had thought Elijah’s eyes were sparkling with need, then he decided it was mischief, now he realised it was happiness. Elijah was happy and that was one look Orli wanted to keep.

He slipped his fingers out and his cock in.

Home.

That feeling of fucking rightness that took his breath away; every bloody time. That feeling that he could never quite understand, never quite believe his luck. That feeling that he’d come so close to losing through his own sheer bloody stupidity.

Orli stilled for a moment, his breathing completely in time with Elijah’s, their bodies moulded, glued, together. "You know what I want to say, don’t you?"

"Yeah, I know," Elijah rolled himself fractionally on and off Orli. "Just… don’t say it, not again."

Orli closed his eyes and thanked every God he’d ever heard of for this second wonderful, magnificent chance he been given. Then he opened them, smiled, and fucked his way, carefully, to the best feeling this side of nirvana.

They came a few moments apart, Elijah with a self-satisfied smile on his face, Orli with a shake of his head and the deepest of sighs. Orli slipped his sticky hand from between their bodies, wiping it on his own hip, as Elijah let his legs down with a grunt. Orli couldn’t help but hug him tight.

He buried his face against Elijah’s shoulder for a moment, inhaling the smell that now meant so much. He could feel all sorts of weird emotions flooding through him and he just wanted to give into them, just for a bit. His breath hitched, loud and awkward, in his chest and Elijah pinched him on the arse. Hard.

Orli groaned, tightening his arms and rolling so that Elijah was on top. "I love you, you little bugger," his voice didn’t sound like his, not at first. "You moan that I push all the time but you don’t do bad yourself."

"Sometimes you need a kick up the arse," Elijah lent up, resting his chin on his hands, his elbows digging painfully into Orli’s chest. Orli winced; Elijah ignored it. "Go on admit it, you were going to drag it out, a long haul wallow till you got round to fucking me again."

"Maybe."

"Course you bloody were, that’d be just like you," Elijah laughed. "Aren’t you lucky that I’m so sensible?"

"I’ve heard you called a lot of things but sensible has never been one of them," Orli smiled back.

"Well, when it comes to us I am. So just be bloody grateful," he smiled and kissed Orli lightly on the lips.

Orli sighed into the touch, his fingers splaying out to cover as much of Elijah’s back as he could. "Grateful is one thing I am."


+


Sunday afternoon, it just had to be.

Elijah undid the top button on his jeans and let his too-full belly expand. Yep, it had to be Sunday afternoon. Orli’s dad, Frank, was snoring in his chair, a family film was on the telly – at least it wasn’t in black and white this week – Elijah’s belly was stuffed with well cooked, homemade food, he didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything and Orli was out helping his mum make coffee.

A typical Sunday afternoon.

Orli was still outside helping his mum.

Elijah pushed his chair away from the table, swallowed the last of his wine and headed for the kitchen. He never, but never ever, interrupted one of their mother-son chats, but today was different.

"Can I do anything to help?" he asked, watching Yvonne and Orli as they stood close to each other by the kitchen counter, their discussion just out of reach of his hearing.

Yvonne looked up, faintly surprised. "No I don’t think so, the coffee is all ready. I wonder if Frank wants decaffeinated or regular, did you notice if he was awake?"

"Yeah I think so," Elijah said, moving to stand next to Orli, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Orli’s trousers.

Yvonne noticed the careful positioning. "I’ll just check," she said as she walked back to the living room.

"You all right?" Orli asked.

"Don’t you fucking dare say anything to her," Elijah hissed.

"Who said I was going to?" Orli hedged.

"Bloody hell Orli, I know you, you wanted to tell Rose and now it’s your mum’s turn. Well don’t."

"Why not? She’s not going to think any the worse of you because of it."

"Oh for Christ sake, think of her for a minute. She doesn’t need to know her darling baby son is capable of smacking his lover around," he pulled Orli round so their backs were to the door. "Or were you going to tell her about the sex as well? That’s one she shouldn’t know anything about."

"But you shouldn’t have to lie for me, she’s already suspicious about how you got the marks on your face."

"She thinks I’m up to something, so what? Leave her some illusions."

"It’s not right!"

"For who? Me? I don’t fucking care but she would. She’d feel duty bound to me if you told her what happened and that would fuck up everything between me and her for good." Elijah huffed out a breath, trying to calm himself down. He dragged his hands through his hair. "But it’s not about either of us, is it? It’s about you wanting to off load it on someone else," he looked Orli straight in the eye. "That’s not fair and you know it."

Orli sighed and slumped back against the counter. "She thinks I’m a saint at times. If I told her I’d hit you she’d think you’d done something to deserve it, it’s not right."

"So what are you gonna do? Tell her you raped me, even though it’s a load of bollocks, just so she’ll think badly of you?"

They stood and stared at each other for a few long minutes as the clocked ticked away in the background.

"She should know what we’re like," Orli said eventually. "That you try so bloody hard all the time and that I cock up."

"Why? Why should she know? It’s only right she thinks the best of you, she’s your mum not mine."

"But I want her to love you like I do."

"Orli," it was Elijah’s turn to sigh. "You might hate her guts but I’ve got a mum. I don’t need yours."

"And I already have a son, I don’t need another one," Yvonne said from the doorway. Her voice was soft, not accusatory or as harsh as her words sounded. "Elijah and I might become friends in times but not mother and son."

"Mum," Orli’s hissed.

Yvonne looked at him. "I know something is going on so which one of you is going to tell me what it is?"

"How much did you hear Mrs Bloom?" Elijah asked straight out.

"Not very much," she made her way forward into the kitchen. "That you try hard and Orli makes mistakes."

"He does and I do," Orli said. "I wanted to tel…"

"He wanted to do something stupid and I stopped him," Elijah very firmly interrupted.

Yvonne stared at Elijah for a second, her eyes shrewd, and then turned to her son. "Orli go and talk to your father."

"No mum, I’m not a kid that you can send away," Orli tried to dismiss her.

"Either you leave or Elijah and I will," Yvonne said and all of a sudden Elijah knew what a tough parent she could be when she needed to.

Orli looked from one to the other of them.

"Shut the door on your way out," Elijah said.

With an incredulous snort of laughter Orli turned on his heels and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

"So," Yvonne was right back on task. "He wanted to do something stupid. Stupid for you?"

"Stupid for him," Elijah stated.

She regarded him for a long moment in silence. "How did you get the marks on your face Elijah?"

"Some things fell out of a cupboard and hit me," Elijah repeated what he had said when they’d arrived.

She carried on looking at him and he held her gaze. After a long pause she nodded and gave a small smile. "Would you like me to put some antiseptic cream on your face?" She asked.

Elijah smiled back; mother and son were so alike at times. "Thanks but it’s pretty much healed now."

"All right," Yvonne patted the air near his arm. "How about some bread and butter pudding? I have custard."

"Is it home made?" Elijah asked.

"Of course."

"Mrs Bloom, I’d kill for some of your home made custard."

Yvonne took the dish from the warming oven and spooned out an enormous helping for Elijah. She handed him the bowl and pointed towards the custard. "I think it’s time you called me Yvonne, don’t you?"



Six

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