in the closet, either. I wanted to have boyfriends, for God’s sake, hold hands in the pub, bring them home to meet my parents; that shouldn’t be too much to ask. I just felt totally paralyzed. I thought I’d be stuck that way forever, rock and a hard place. But after Dominic . . .”
He reached for the poker and stirred the fire, which shot up a ragged, gallant spurt of flame. “The whole thing looked totally different. If people didn’t see me the same way once I came out, who cared? I’m not talking about being brave, or some YOLO shite. Just . . .” He shrugged. “They’d be out of my life soon enough anyway. Nothing lasts forever, and I don’t mean that in an emo way, I’m being factual. Dominic was enormous in my life for years, this huge presence looming over every single thing, I went to sleep thinking about him and had nightmares about him all night and woke up in the morning dreading him. And then we did this one thing, it only took a minute or two, and he was gone. Just gone. It’s hard to think of anything as permanent, after that. What you’ve got”—to Susanna—“the husband and the kiddies and the mortgage, all that ever-after stuff, it’s never felt like an option.”
“Do you wish it did?” Susanna asked. For the first time she looked worried, twisting on the sofa to peer at Leon in the dimness. “Do you wish you’d gone like me, instead?”
Leon thought that over, nudging charred bits of wood delicately towards the heart of the fire. “No,” he said. “Not dissing what you’ve got, but it’s not my style. I’m happy the way I am. It’s got its downsides—I’ve dumped every boyfriend I’ve ever had, or else made them dump me, and I feel like a total shit every time. But I like the feeling that anything’s possible. I could be in Mauritius, this time next year, or Dubrovnik.” He glanced up at Susanna, smiling. “I love places, you know,” he said. “I always have. The less I know about them, the better. The Yorkshire moors: don’t they sound amazing? All that space and heather and Viking place names? And New York, and Goa, and . . . Once I get to know them a bit, the shine wears off and I get itchy feet, but this way, that’s OK, because I’m not tied down. I don’t have to pick one; I can have them all.” He grinned. “And I also really like guys, and I don’t have to pick just one of those, either.”
Susanna smiled back at him. “Good,” she said. “Send me postcards.” She reached out a hand; Leon wove his fingers through hers and squeezed them. In the fireplace a splinter of wood caught, flared.
They felt alien, as if they were made of some material I didn’t understand and shouldn’t touch. The curve of Susanna’s cheek white and smooth as polished rock, under the layer of moving firelight. The long shadow of Leon’s arm skimming across the wall as he pushed back his hair.
“So,” Susanna said. She leaned back into the corner of the sofa and watched me. “There you go.”
“Right,” I said. “OK.”
“Not what you were expecting?”
“Not really. No.”
“Are you OK with it?”
I said, “I have no idea what that would even mean.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Susanna said. “Give it time.”
Leon was watching me sideways. “Tell us you’re not planning to run to Rafferty,” he said: joking, except it wasn’t a joke.
“What?” This had never even occurred to me. “No.”
“Of course he’s not,” Susanna said. “Toby’s not stupid. Even if he wanted us to go to prison, which he doesn’t, it’s not like telling Rafferty would make that happen. It would just kick off huge amounts of mess and chaos, and when that cleared, we’d be pretty much where we are now. Everything’s fine as it is.” She lifted an eyebrow at me. “Right?”
“Not if Rafferty still thinks I did it.”
“Oh, he doesn’t. And even if he does, there’s nothing he can do about it.” When I didn’t answer: “Seriously, Toby, chill out. It’s all under control.”
“But,” I said, looking from one of them to the other. There were things I needed to ask, vital things, but I couldn’t figure out what they were. “Don’t you feel bad about it?”
As soon as I’d said it, it sounded like a stupid question, sanctimonious and faux-naïve. I expected some barbed putdown, but they were silent