is almost like a spectator sport for him and doing it in public never bothered him. He nods enthusiastically and starts to steer me down the street. “It’s the least you can do, Jude, but we’ll do it with your back to me so I can’t see the split ends. Does Devon not have conditioner and hair masks?”
“Fuck off.” I smile almost helplessly, because he still has all the old charm. “Okay, we’ll go for a drink, but no club and definitely no rubbing one off on me.”
“Spoilsport,” he chides, and I break into a reluctant chuckle. The next second I stiffen as I hear “Jude!” being shouted in a familiar voice.
I start to move Malachi along hurriedly, but he doesn’t cooperate, craning his neck around to look behind us.
“Goodness,” he says faintly. “There’s a big man with very biblical hair coming towards us.”
“It’s Asa,” I hiss. “Come on. I thought you wanted to go for a drink.”
“Ah, your daddy.” He looks over his shoulder again. “Goodness, he looks very cross. Did you not clean your room?” He shudders theatrically. “Is he going to spank you? Oh, let him, Jude. Just for me. I could totally get off on that, and I wouldn’t be able to see your current feral hairstyle if you were face down over his knee.”
“Malachi,” I hiss. “I don’t want to speak to Asa at the moment.”
“Too late,” he says happily and swings us round just as Asa rocks up to us. He’s wild-eyed, his hair is down, and he’s missing his jacket.
“Where’s your fucking coat?” I snap. “You’ll get cold.”
Malachi smirks. “Oh, good grief. You older people don’t need that. You’ll come down with sciatica and corns.” He pauses. “And whatever other ailments you daddies get.”
Asa had been alternating between staring imploringly at me while trying to catch my eye and casting fulminating glares at Malachi’s hand on my arm. At his comment, though, his head turns slowly. “I’m sorry, who are you?” He pauses. “And did you just call me a fucking daddy?”
Malachi shudders theatrically. “A very cross daddy. Jude, you naughty boy. You should be spanked and then sent to bed early so your pensioner friend can get an early night.” Asa looks bemused, but it turns to anger as Malachi carries blithely on. “I’m Malachi, an occasional fuck friend of Jude’s.”
Asa turns to me accusingly. “You’ve fucked him?”
“Not today,” I scoff. “Years ago, for fuck’s sake.” I pause before saying poisonously, “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t I mention the fact that I shagged Malachi a few times? What a silly addle wit I am. The next thing that happens is I’ll be forgetting men I’ve slept with for two whole fucking years. How fucked up would that be?” Asa makes an aborted move towards me, but I sidestep him. “Don’t bother, Asa. Fuck off back to Hayden.”
“No, Jude,” he begs. “Stop please, sweetheart. I was going to tell you tonight, but the phone went and…”
“Oh dear, you got interrupted tonight. How unfortunate. Especially when you consider that you’ve had six fucking months to tell me. Every time I spoke to him, you should have been working out how to tell me, but you didn’t. Why?” I pause and then say with a sense of dread, “Hayden said it was because you still want him, that you’d be together now if he’d come out.”
“That’s bullshit,” he groans. “It meant nothing to me. He means very little to me apart from as a friend, and I’m telling you, that’s over too tonight.”
“Why?” I can’t escape the feeling of gladness.
“Because of what he did, Jude. I—”
Malachi interrupts with a loud, theatrical yawn, and Asa stares at him incredulously.
“This is all very Devonshire amateur dramatics,” Malachi says. “But Jude and I were going somewhere.”
“Where?” Asa demands loudly. “Where the fuck were you going with him?”
Malachi shrugs. “Well, I was hoping to get him naked, but he’s proved infuriatingly uncooperative so far.”
Asa turns to me, levelling a glare. I raise my hands. “What? You heard him. I wasn’t going to do fuck all, and you know it, Asa. We were just going to the pub.”
“Come on,” Malachi jeers lightly. “I know you, Jude. You’d have given in.”
“I would not have given in,” I say disgustedly.
I’m drowned out by Asa declaring, “You know fuck all about him.”
“I know he’s got an arse like a fucking peach,” Malachi says as flippantly as ever.
Asa shakes his head. “That’s all you know. You know nothing. You don’t know that he loves thunderstorms,