my bottom. I pointed out that if he’d spanked my bum when I was a schoolboy he’d have been up on a charge, which put a slight dampener on the evening. He kept trying, but finally lost interest when I asked him to write his name on my pencil case and said I wanted to go for a smoke behind the bike sheds.”
My relieved laughter catches and holds on the air. “Come on,” I say lightly. “Let’s grab a taxi.”
We come out of the station, and he stops dead. “Jesus, is that our taxi?”
I nod, steering him over to the water taxi waiting for us, its wood gleaming in the winter sunshine and the flags on it snapping on the breeze. “No cars are allowed in Venice, so we’ll take the boat to the hotel.” I take his hand, helping him onto the boat as the driver deals with our bags.
When Felix disengages and goes to stand by the side, I immediately miss the warmth of his hand. I’m slightly mollified when he glances over his shoulder and calls, “Come and look at this, Max.”
The water taxi sets off, and a stiff breeze whips the air. Venice in the winter is beautiful but very cold, the sea winds blowing in off the Adriatic and seeming to get into every nook and cranny. He nestles slightly closer, pulling his jacket around his thin body, and I throw my arm over his shoulder.
“For warmth,” I say. “One friend to another.”
He nods, his expression slightly wary, but I stay close and relish the feel of him.
Venice is one of my favourite cities, and has views that I will never tire of. No grim industrial estates and boarded up shops here, like you see when entering so many other big cities. Instead, we slip into Venice on water that sparkles coldly, our boat jostling for space with the other crafts skimming the water and kicking up spumes of white foam.
The buildings and elegant old palazzos crowd over us, nestling together in their sepia tones, as if remembering, in their faded grandeur, the times when Venice was a centre for music and art, and Casanova was still climbing in and out of ladies’ bedrooms.
Felix’s eyes are everywhere, his face keen and eager. I wish he understood that, although I’ve spent the money for this trip, he’s the one giving me the best gift. Sharing in his excitement, I get to experience one of my favourite cities anew.
I lean into him, pointing here and there at interesting buildings, blessing my ability to retain the most random of facts, because they have always interested Felix.
And, slowly, the wariness that had been evident on the platform recedes, and he leans into me, grabbing my arm as he points things out, showing no signs of caution. I almost resent it when we pull up to the hotel, but Felix’s expression is worth everything.
“Are we staying here?” he hisses.
“We are.” I smile. “I always stay here.”
“Do you get a second mortgage every time?”
I laugh. “I told you before, I don’t stint on life experiences,” I say. “There have been too many times when I was convinced I wasn’t coming home. I won’t waste my time trying to be cheap when I’ve got the money.”
And I like to spoil you, I think. I want to spoil you for the rest of your life, take you all over the globe and show you the hidden paths and byways of the world that I know so well. With Felix at my side, my knowledge of the world wouldn’t die away in loneliness, but flourish by being shared. I think of a little old cafe in Saudi Arabia that I remember where they serve the best luquaimats. The little fried dumplings would satisfy his sweet tooth, and the taste of honey would linger on his tongue when I kiss—
My thoughts come to a screeching stop.
Kissing him? I’d be safer kissing a tiger at the moment. Felix would gut me if I tried anything, but that knowledge only makes me more determined. I want him back, and this is my last chance. If I don’t succeed this time, he will find someone else, and I will be alone for the rest of my life because no one can replace Felix.
I’m able to shake the thoughts away only when Giulia, the owner of the hotel, comes out, talking volubly in her warm voice. I smile as she throws her arms around me.
“Max,” she says when she