Hello everybody, here's the next part. Thanks for the support and all your nice comments I did receive. They are most appreciated.
The Knife that Twists Within Part 17
by Stefan
Try as he might, Sebastian was unable to keep Kay at home. However, in surrendering to his pleas for more sightseeing, Sebastian first lectured his young love on what parts of the city were considered dangerous and what parts were considered safe. After listening attentively, Kay made Sebastian promise to show him where he worked at the Forum Romanum.
Sebastian's bright red little Fiat followed the same path Kay had taken the other night, passing the old gladiator schools and rounding the Colosseum before coming to a stop in the parking lot reserved for employees. Luckily it was a light day for tourists, so they had the fields of ruins almost completely to themselves.
"We have to go down?" Kay asked surprised.
"Yes, this is the street level of the ancient Rome. You see how high they built, level upon level."
It was quiet though the busy traffic was only a hundred metres away. Sebastian visibly relaxed, happy in his element.
"Look at these pillars, how tall they are! I never thought they were so tall."
"Yes." Sebastian smiled. "It's surprising, isn't it?"
Quietly Sebastian began to name the places, temples and arches of the emperors. He stopped briefly at a before a roped-off place and bent down, motioning Kay to follow him. Peering inside the opening, Kay saw a vault of somekind with supports or pillars that appeared only partially excavated, though he couldn't be sure.
"There was quite a sensation over this discovery in 1899. It's supposed to be the grave of Romulus, the founder of Rome. That little obelisk there", Sebastian was pointing to one of the supports before them, "bears an inscription which curses anyone who disturbs the peace of this place."
"Indeed? And what happened to the man that discovered it?"
Sebastian laughed. "Nothing, I don't think. The curse is very old, perhaps it lost its strength."
Kay turned and looked across the field of marble pillars, temples and churches, up to the Palatine hill to the arc of Titus.
"It's unbelievable", he muttered. Sebastian nodded.
"Yes. Once upon a time, the world's heart beat from this place. Come."
He kneeled beside at a toppled pillar pulling Kay along with him.
"Imagine it is sunrise," Sebastian began, his arm sweeping across the scene before them. "The first sunbeams hit the golden helmet of Jupiter in his temple over there." He pointed to the Capitol hill. "The priests are waiting for this sign. First all is quiet, but then the stomp of horses and oxen begins to rumble, the sound growing like the huge cloud of dust rolling forward. Emperor Nero steps onto the balcony of his palace behind us. The Forum fills with the rabble of the Subura, with merchants, thieves, actors, prostitutes, with noble men and senators draped in their togas and robes.
In front of Jupiter's temple a fire is lit, priests bring rams to slaughter - a sacrifice to Jupiter, Juno and Minerva, while the lead Vestal implores the Gods. The people fall silent and the three Holy Trees at the Comitium tremble.
Incense burns at Caesar's temple. Nero's arm goes down as a signal to sound the bronze trumpets. The deep metallic sound merges with the noise of the army now marching into place before the temple. The Pontifex Maximus splatters the statue of Jupiter with blood while the cohorts stomp over the Via Sacra. Next, the chariot wheels crunch over the stones as whips crack over the backs of slaves and barbarian princes. Plunder appropriated from conquered towns is piled high in carts parked before the Emperor, along with cages housing exotic animals - cheetahs, lions, apes, and snakes.
Soon the very pillars are vibrating under the frantic cheering of the people. And yet though we are only beggars looking on, we are Roman Citizens. And who is more than this?"
Kay looked at Sebastian and grinned. "I think I've seen it before. In Ben Hur?"
Sebastian laughed. "Yes, Hollywood's vision of the past, but probably not too far off the mark." He pointed to the square belfry of a church. "See, there's the Forum museum, where I work. The smaller finds of our excavations are all displayed there."
"I can't imagine you in soiled overalls, a hoe or a trowel in your hand, digging the earth", Kay told him with an amused look.
Sebastian kissed Kay's lips. "You can't? Why?"
"Well, you are so ... you look like such a gentleman, you know. I would have guessed you were one of those kids that never got dirty when he played."
Sebastian laughed loudly. "That's how you see me? Well, with your rich upbringing I doubt you ever played in the mud yourself, did you? But you are right, sweetie. Therefore I have a lot to catch up on! It's fun to dig in the earth carefully, to measure and compare it with old maps and plans, to reveal treasure. You see the three high pillars there? They belonged to the round temple of the goddess Vesta, inside the Holy Fire was housed and protected so it would never die. Behind it was the house of the female priests of Vesta, where we found a mosaic floor. Can you imagine what that meant? Those tiny stones, so artfully arranged to grace the feet of those that have been dead for about two thousand years now."
He looked into Kay's interested brown eyes. "It's holy. You understand?"
Kay nodded. "Of course. It's that old that it is holy to you."
"Yes. This work means a lot to me. And therefore I cannot give it up to live in Berlin again."
Kay looked surprised. "I never suggested that you should."
"No, you didn't. But I can read your mind, sweetie. How do think it will go with us?" He took Kay's hand in his.
"Soon you must return to work. You said you had only one week off, and it's half over already."
"I don't know," Kay whispered. "I haven't wanted to think about it."
He pressed Sebastian's hand, absently watching a Japanese tourist in the distance shot one photo after another, incessantly.
"You must think about it."
"And when I go back you will find another Andrea or even renew that relationship, right?"
"Not if you will come back."
"For what? Holidays?" Kay exclaimed.
"Not only for holidays." Sebastian's voice was gentle. "You don't have to work, Kay. You are free. And if you absolutely must, then we'll find another way. Think it over."
"Does this mean you want me to stay with you?"
Sebastian didn't respond immediately. Suddenly he was scared by his words, his feelings. Was this what he really wanted? Briefly he imagined Nicholas' face but banished the image quickly. Nick was out of reach. And Kay's worth? Why measure it against his lust? A young, lovable man who was eager to learn all about his interests, who's lifestyle matched his own in so many ways, who satisfied all his physical desires? He wanted Kay to stay.
"Yes." He said firmly and saw Kay's eyes light up.
"Then I'll give it a try." He smiled.
Sebastian stood up and stretched out his hand. "Let's go into the museum."
It was late afternoon when they arrived home, exhausted but happy. Kay's head was spinning from all the new things he had seen and learnt and also from the realization that his secret wish had come true. He would stay here with his lover, to experience a Roman spring.
Sebastian was in the kitchen when the phone rang and when Kay didn't answer it, he rushed out leaving the zucchini on the stove, unattended.
Hearing Nicholas' voice surprised him.
"Hi, Nicki, how nice to hear from you. Has Marcus returned?"
At the mention of his lover's name, Nicholas almost burst into tears. He managed a short, "No."
Sebastian was alarmed by Nicholas' shaking voice. He took the telephone and went to the couch.
"Still in London, then? But he's called to say when he will return." Sebastian hoped his assertion was correct.
Nicholas took a deep breath and said with a tired voice, "No, Bastian, I haven't heard from him for four days. Do you know what Alex told me?" His words were becoming fluid. "He saw Marcus with another man in a restaurant - behaving like they were lovers. And when I called the cellphone, a foreign man answered, telling me that Marcus had agreed to fuck him for one week in exchange for the screen."
It was out now. And it wasn't as difficult to tell Sebastian as Nicholas had thought. Awaking, he had found he could think more clearly and he had longed for some consoling words. He'd automatically dialed Sebastian's number in Rome, though afterward he wondered exactly why.
Sebastian was speechless.
"But it must be a joke!" he exclaimed finally. "I don't understand... Alex was in London too?"
"Yes, visiting Karl."
"Hm. And then he had nothing better to do than tell you this news, hot off the press? How would he know that Marcus and this foreign man were sharing a bed?"
"He said they were kissing or something."
Sebastian couldn't believe it. And he wouldn't believe it until Marcus admitted it.
"And the other man, on the cellphone, he was an Englishman?"
"Yes."
"He told you that Marcus is fucking him? Are you certain you understood correctly? Did you hear Marcus' voice?"
"No, but it doesn't matter; it must be true. I don't know what to do now..."
Nicholas' voice sounded choked with tears and so unhappy that it nearly broke Sebastian's heart. He sighed, thoughts racing, before he smelled something burning.
"Shit! Kay! Can you come quickly? Sorry Nicki, something's burning in the kitchen. Listen, come here as soon as possible, we will figure this shit out together, ok?"
Nicholas was dumbfounded. What would he do in Rome? But then his face brightened. It couldn't be bad to be with friends at a time like this. Kay would be there, with his carefree cheerfulness, and Nicholas longed to feel some of that.
"Yes. I will come. Kay is there, isn't he?"
"Sure, and I hope he's saving the pan right now! Call the airlines and find out when the next flight to Rome leaves, then call us back. We'll pick you up. Oh," he paused a moment, "don't you get airsick?"
"I'll get something at the chemist's."
"Well then, honey. Do call the airlines, I'll be waiting here, alright? Try not to be too unhappy, this will come to a good end."
Nicholas hung up and and made the call. There was a direct flight to Rome at 10:30 that night. Without hesitation he reserved a one way ticket and dialed Sebastian's number again. Already the pain was beginning to subside knowing that Sebastian would help him no matter how things came out.
In the meantime, Kay had fished the burnt zucchini pieces out of the pan while Sebastian tried to reach Marcus. This time nobody answered the phone. In another moment, Nicholas called back to let them know that he would arrive in Rome around half past midnight. Kay waited patiently to ask just what was going on.
"Nick wants to come to Rome? Has he said anything about Simon? Is that why?" Kay was alarmed.
"Simon?" Sebastian was confused. "No. No, don't worry." Kay sat beside him and Sebastian pulled his back to his chest, embracing him from behind. "It's not about Simon."
"There hasn't been another attack?" Kay asked, surmising that must be the cause of Nick's visit and Sebastian's attempt to reach Marcus.
"No, no. Worse than that, although I still don't understand the story. One of Marcus ex-employees saw Marcus and a foreign man acting in a way that implied some intimacy and then he apparently had nothing better to do than to tell Nick. Nick called Marcus afterwards on his cellphone and a foreign man answered, telling Nick that Marcus was fucking him to get the screen. Though what it means... I thought the screen was in the possession of a American."
"Perhaps it was Carlisle?"
"No, Alex knows Carlisle."
Kay was shocked. He didn't know Marcus well, but doubted that he could do something like that; at least not when a lover like Nick was waiting for him at home.
"It sounds so over the top!" he said finally. "Nick is devastated, right? You invited him to come down?"
"Yes." Sebastian nibbled at Kay's earlobe and his hands stroked his belly.
"He'll be on the 10:30 flight from Berlin. Any idea what we could do until then?" He gently rubbed Kay's balls through the cloth of his trousers.
"The zucchini is in cinders, but we could cook up a fresh one," Kay said.
"I know a better taste, sweetie - or are you starving?"
"How can you think about THAT right now? Nick is so unhappy and all you want is to get into bed with me?" Kay said seriously.
"Hey," Sebastian's voice was low, "Perhaps I need a little consolation because I'm unhappy too?"
"You are unhappy?" Kay's voice was mocking. "And I shall comfort you now?"
"Yes. Come on, baby, do me the favour."
"Bastian?"
"Hm?"
"Do you think it's true about Marcus?"
Sebastian rested atop Kay's body - a thing both enjoyed. He raised his head to look into Kay's eyes.
"Seriously? I can't believe that Marcus would fuck a guy to get a screen. But then, I've known Marcus as long as I can remember and he is stubborn and pigheaded. He's besotted by beauty, no matter if it's living or dead, alive or inanimate."
Replacing his head on Kay's chest, he listened to the steady beating of his heart. Kay's voice reverberated deep in his thorax as he asked, "Living or dead? You mean art?"
"Yes. I love it too but not in a crazy way. It must be the blood."
"Huh?"
"In his blood, the old genes. His father and grandfather were art collectors, too. Before the Second World War his grandpa fled to Switzerland, taking as much of his collection as he could carry or send ahead. Marcus also possesses this hunting and gathering instinct."
"And he forgets all about this particular instinct, I see." Kay said, rumpled Sebastian's hair and squeezing him tight. "Would you do the same to me? I look around at all the precious things you have collected in this house and wonder, what have YOU done to get them?"
Sebastian looked up again. "I haven't done anything similar to what we hear of Marcus, sweetie. I've never fucked a man - or even a woman - to get anything. You know, most of these objects are on loan from the museum. I pay to have them around me, because I love them. Some things I bought at auctions, of course, but..."
"But would you fuck another guy to get what you desired?"
Sebastian closed his eyes and thought about it. "I don't know. Perhaps. But not if I would hurt you by doing it."
Kay smiled. "That's the point, lover, and the reason why I refuse to believe Marcus could do it." He looked at the watch. "I guess we should get something to eat before we pick up Nick. It's getting late."
Marcus looked at his watch while fastening his seat belt. From the tiny window he could see the runway lights glittering like blue topaz in the darkness. Again he reviewed the explanation he planned to give Nick. Of course he would mentioned George, but no word of the deal he had made. With a whole day to distance himself from the debacle, he could no longer understand what had made him agree to it in the first place. Now all he was looking forward to was seeing his lover again and forgetting everything that had happened. Even the long showers he'd taken couldn't wash away George's smell or the scent of betrayal he carried with him in his clothes and on his skin. The airplane touched down softly in Berlin and Marcus unfastened his belt, grabbed his bag and left the plane as fast as he could. It was around 10:30 when he reached the baggage claim area and he cursed that he hadn't been able to get an earlier flight home. It seemed likely that Nicholas would already be asleep and he burned with the desire to snuggle against his warm body, to take him into his arms and to kiss the tiny freckles on his nose. Hearing the last call for a flight to Rome, Marcus thought of Sebastian and Kay and hoped that they were having a good time there. Perhaps Sebastian would finally fall in love and Kay would decide never to return to Berlin. Stepping out of the taxi in front of his house, Marcus noticed that there were no lights on in the house. His initial surprise was allayed when he realized how late it was. Had Nicholas expected him, he was certain he would have experienced a brighter homecoming. Leaving his suitcase just inside the door, Marcus raced up the stairs expecting to find an Nicholas in a heavenly sleep but the bed was empty and cold. Thunderstruck, Marcus didn't know what to think. Could it be that Nick was out, staying overnight at someone else's, perhaps with Ben or Matthias? Shit, he thought, he didn't have an address or phone number for either one of them. The only way to find out would be to wait until morning and go to the academy. The realization made him terribly weary and Marcus sat down on the bed, too tired to do more than kick off his shoes and crawl under the covers. But sleep was suddenly far away. Just before closing his eyes, he'd caught sight of Nicholas' drawings on the opposite wall. One was of he himself, naked, lying on his stomach, and apparently sleeping. He remembered the evening it had been done. It was the last time they'd made love, and the memory of Nick being inside him was now as vivid as ever. Beside it hung another drawing and even in the moonlight he could see that it was a copy of a painting by Burne-Jones. His cheeks burned with sudden shame. What had he done in London with George? He would never to tell a soul about it, not even Bastian. No one would ever understand how anything could have been more valuable to him than Nicholas' love. What would happen to the screen now? Would George remain true to his threat and destroy it? Entertaining these questions, staring at the drawings before him, Marcus became aware that he actually didn't care. Not in the slightest. What he cared about was Nicholas. He heard rain knocking softly at the windowsill. Was it possible that Nick was so angry with him that he was taking a sort of revenge, ignoring Marcus as he had been ignored? With a jolt Marcus jumped out of bed and rushed into the dressing room searching for Nick's clothes. At the first, it appeared they were all there, but gradually he realized some of them were missing. In the bathroom he discovered that Nicholas' razor was gone, as was his toothbrush and comb - the necessities. Could the impossible be true! He rushed down the stairs to have a look at the coat rack. Nicholas' jacket was gone too. Uttering curses to himself, Marcus went to the kitchen, found Anna's prepared and untouched lunch upon the stove, but no note. Nicholas had left without a word. Despairing, he sat in one of the chairs and buried his face in his hands. How could Nick do this? There was no way he could know what had happened in London and yet he was gone. Without reason, Marcus considered. Or perhaps London was the reason - that Marcus hadn't called as he'd promised and that he'd hurried Nick off the phone when he had made the effort. With a simple thought, Marcus felt a terrible, burning punch to his stomach. Alex! Alex had seen him with George at the Trafalgar Tavern! Could it be that ... "Holy Shit!!" Marcus exclaimed. Of course Alex would have an interest in destroying his relationship with Nick. Apparently he still was furious over his dismissal and rejection. He might well have called Nick and told him that there was another man in London. Maybe even that he was Marcus' lover. Gut aching, he moved to the living room in search of something to drink. With a trembling hand, he brought a glass of brandy to his lips. The drink did little to decrease the burning in his belly, but he welcomed the warmth that radiated into his limbs. Settling on the couch he noticed for the first time the room's disheveled appearance. Apparently Anna hadn't come today. He looked at the watch. It wasn't really that late for a call to Anna. He got the answering machine her son had bought for her and he remembered how she'd grumbled about the new, useless thing and her problems in learning to use it. He waited for the beep and left a brief message before hanging up. With another large sip of brandy, he returned to the couch, snuggling into the corner with his knees pulled up. What had happened here, he wondered. He noticed an open book lying on the low table, the letters of Franz Kafka. How did it come to be here? Absentmindedly he leafed it through.... "That you are the knife with whom I twist myself inside...." Marcus blinked. What did it mean?. The knife with whom I twist myself inside... Suddenly, it was as if he could hear Nicholas' voice, see his deep blue eyes looking reproachfully at him. I am the knife. Marcus understood. The knife that twists within. The pain it caused was he himself. With a bang he closed the book and emptied his glass in one go. Taking up the bottle, he poured another glass full listening all the while to the maddeningly loud silence of the house.Nicholas was glad that he could keep his queasy stomach under control with the help of the chewing gum he'd bought at the chemist's. Chewing it also provided some relief for the pain in his ears as the plane descended toward Rome. They approached from the sea, so the water's darkness gave way to runway lights suddenly without any preview of the city.
During the flight he had asked himself repeatedly if it was wise to flee Berlin like a wounded animal. Eventually he assured himself that it was better to speak with Marcus' oldest friend than to sit, waiting for the call that would tell him to pack his bags because he'd been replaced.
With shaking legs he made his way to the baggage conveyer. Looking around in the large hall he saw neither Sebastian or Kay. The longer he waited the greater his sadness grew until somebody tapped his shoulder. Nicholas swirled around to find Kay's smiling face.
"We aren't late, are we?"
Nicholas was so relieved that he almost burst into tears as he embraced Kay.
"It's ok, sweetie, I know the whole story," Kay told him, matching the strength of his embrace. "Although I don't understand it. Look here comes the luggage."
Nicholas looked at him, vision blurred. "You don't mind that I've come here?"
"Of course not! Come, Sebastian is waiting outside with the car."
He took Nicholas' bag, and gently pushed him toward the exit and the little red Fiat. Sebastian stepped out and pulled Nicholas to his chest. "Are you ok?" he asked, lips close to his ear. "No airsickness?"
Nicholas shook his head and took a step back, being so close to Sebastian was more than he could bear at the moment. "Only some mild pain in my ears."
"Well then, you can't become a pilot!" Sebastian tried a weak smile. "Come on, let's go home."
Nicholas climbed into the backseat next to Kay and breathed deeply. He had made it. He was here in Rome and far away from Berlin and Marcus. Kay studied him intensely and Nicholas felt the gaze.
"Marcus still hasn't gotten in touch?"
"No. And I'm not sure if I want to hear his voice." He hesitated for a moment. "I haven't thanked you for inviting me to come. It's ... I was alone..."
"Sshsh, you aren't alone, Nicki," Kay stroked his hand. "I'm sure we'll find it was all a big misunderstanding."
"Yes," Nicholas snorted almost, "and if it turns out to be a big misunderstanding Marcus will be angry that I had no confidence in him or us and fled to friends, crying like a baby."
"Nonsense." Sebastian threw in. "That's what friends are for. If I were Marcus, I would think only how much you... loved me to be so distraught."
"But love supposes confidence!" Nicholas exclaimed. "And trust."
"Love also includes care for the other. He should have called." Sebastian responded.
"Sebastian is right, Nicki. You don't have to make self-reproaches. Marcus is responsible."
Nicholas didn't answer. Suddenly he felt very tired, sagging against the upholstery.
"The airport is about half an hour from home. We think you'll love the room we've picked out for you. It overlooks the garden behind the house, framed by pine, cypress and chestnut trees."
Nicholas smiled. It was indeed a good idea to have come here.
"Any news about Simon?" Kay asked suddenly and Nicholas flinched.
"We have found him," he said almost timidly.
"What? You're just telling me now? When did you find him? Why didn't you call immediately?"
"I'm sorry, Kay. I wanted to call right away, but then I thought you would cut your visit short and come back. I didn't want to disturb your holidays, especially since Simon appears well and will be there when you return."
"Oh, thanks so much for your consideration!" Nicholas could hear a slight hint of sarcasm in Kay's voice, though he no longer seemed seriously angry. "It's all right. Now tell me, where did you find him?"
"At the 'Nightfactory'. It's his usual hangout. He looks fine." Nicholas met Sebastian's eyes in the tiny rearview mirror. "You know he deals drugs and he... he's became a hustler."
"What?" Kay was shocked again. "That... arsehole. I should have known before. He's always messing things up," Kay muttered.
Nicholas patted his arm. "Ben cares for him it seems."
"Ben?"
"Yes, my classmate, you've never met him. Together with my friend, Matthias, we found him at the club. We led him to believe we were going to have a nice foursome, but then he recognized Marcus' house and tried to flee. We managed to convince him to come inside. And now Ben has fallen in love with him."
Surprised, Sebastian again raised his eyes to the mirror. "Really? And he knows the whole story?"
"Yes, he does. Simon owns a little flat but Ben says he doesn't take his customers there."
Kay shook his head. "Did he ask about me? Do you think he'll speak to me?"
"Don't know. I think so. Will you return to Berlin now?"
Sebastian looked at Kay in the mirror, waiting for his answer. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to be alone with Nicholas.
"Heaven knows. I must go back in two days anyway. Do you have his phone number?"
Nicholas nodded.
"Good, then I will call him and see how it goes." Kay looked out of the window. "Look, we are almost there."
Sebastian drove up the winding streets which led to his house on Gianicolo hill and parked the car in the garage.
"Wait until morning breaks, you will be surprised at how beautiful it is here." Kay said, pulling out Nicholas' bag. "Is this all you brought with you?"
"What else do I need?" Nicholas responded. "I don't want to spend the winter here."
Sebastian ushered both men into the house and turned on the hall light. "Are you hungry? Want something to drink?"
"Nothing, thank you. I'm tired."
"Good. Come with me." Nicholas followed Sebastian upstairs into a surprising spacious room with nice old furniture, a large bed and a connecting bathroom.
"It's all yours, Nicki. Make yourself comfortable and welcome to Rome." He smiled encouragingly.
Again Nicholas' view was a little bit blurred. "I don't know what to say, Bastian... I'm so ..."
Sebastian stepped up to him, embraced him and stroked his back. Then he briefly kissed Nick's cheek and whispered, "It's ok, honey. If you get hungry in the night, the kitchen is downstairs, to the right. But try to sleep, yes? I tried to call Marcus myself, but there was no answer. Perhaps it was indeed only a misunderstanding."
He looked into Nicholas' deep blue eyes. "Tomorrow you will feel much better, you'll see." At the door he turned. "Sleep well."
Nicholas sighed and looked around before opening his bag and pulling out another smaller bag that he carried into the bathroom. A hot shower was all what he wanted now, that and a soft bed. And no dreams of Marcus.
Marcus woke at the crack of dawn. At first he couldn't remember where he was and why he was lying on the couch in his living room. His head pounded, his tongue was coated and thick, while his stomach twisted with nausea. He'd drunk too much last night, based on the hangover he felt, but a glance at the empty brandy bottle confirmed it had been far too much. With that, the realization that Nicholas was gone hit him like a well-placed professional boxer's punch. Moaning he wandered through the house searching for some sign that Nicholas had come home in the night. As he traveled, his nausea increased until he only just managed to make it to the upstairs bathroom where he threw up into the toilet bowl. Afterwards he felt a little better, and drank some water from the cup for his toothbrush before climbing into the shower. Gradually his mind was cleared and the headache subsided. He had to find Nicholas. First he would drive to the academy - perhaps Nicki would be there! If not, he would speak to Ben. Arriving in the kitchen, Marcus noticed that it was much to early to find any students at the academy, so he sat brooding until a vaguely spoiled odour disturbed him. Searching for the cause he lifted the cover of the pot standing on the stove and grimaced. The dish had begun to rot, which meant that Anna hadn't been there for days. That was most odd, he thought, taking the pot to the bathroom where he flushed the contents away. Again he dialed Anna's number and this time he got Anna's husband who told him that his wife hadn't been well for the last few days; she'd come down with a flu. From a relayed message, Marcus learned that Anna had no idea about Nicholas' whereabouts either.The yellow flowers in the black plastic vase were bleached out and withered. A man in a dark and heavy coat stood in front of them with folded hands, seemingly immersed in silent prayer. All at once, trembling fingers reached to trace the small, golden letters which told the date of death: 26th December 1998.
Thirty two years, Philip. A life that had lasted only thirty two years, the man thought.
The pale sun, peering out from time to time behind milky clouds was mirrored in his glasses. Alexander ran his hands through the white hair around his temples, his face stern and determined, furrowed in pain and haggard from a poor diet. Hate was the only thing keeping him alive now.
He envisioned the accidents he had caused: the dark, slippery street, his target, stumbling, eyes glowing like a deer just leapt from the forest onto the road in the path of his car ... the sharp, yet sweet scent of the anesthetic he had pressed upon the boy's nose in the toilet of the bar ... the purposely frayed wiring on the sparkling coffee pot at Marcus' exhibition... A vicious, twisted grin spread over his face.
Certainly the boy seemed to have a guardian angel but, he wondered, was it really his intention to kill Marcus newest lover? Abruptly Alexander clenched his fists in the pockets of his coat. Marcus had to pay ... 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth' ... Marcus would pay because Marcus was the reason that his lost son lay there, alone in the cold earth without hope of resurrection, and beyond redemption due to his suicide.
Images flashed before him of blood pooling beneath a stilled body, the deep and ugly wound that had cleaved the skull and spilled the brain of his only child... Marcus had to pay for it. It must be done. Alex took a deep breath and allowed his gaze to travel from stone to sky, cloudy and pale.
Was the revenge perfect already?
He had seen Nicholas' reaction as he told him that Marcus had betrayed their love. But how could he be sure that Nicholas would believe his strange story? Certainly he would have called Marcus, and it was likely that the older man would have claimed a huge misunderstanding. Doubt would likely remain... He must be sure.
With a quick look and a prayer over the grave, Alex left the cemetery.
As Marcus recognized Ben coming down the street he stepped out of his car. Ben saw him and beamed. "Hello, Mr. Weidenbruch! Back from London? Now I see the reason why Nick didn't call me yesterday." He winked blithely as Marcus' heart sank. "He was supposed to call you and didn't? You were my last hope, Ben." Marcus raised his head to look directly into Ben's eyes. "And don't call me Mr. Weidenbruch, please. I'm feeling old enough as it is." "As you like ... Marcus." Ben responded. "Why do I get the feeling that you don't know where Nick is?" "Because he's not at home and I was hoping he might be with you. You say he was supposed to call you?" "Jesus! Yes, he was to call me after the meeting with one of your ex-employees. Supposedly the man had something important to tell him." "Ex-employee? What did he look like? Slender, middle aged, glasses, grey temples, small face?" "Yes." "Alex! God Damnit!" Ben stood stunned before him, "Nick is gone, Ben, without a note. I have no clue... wait, surely he has gone to his own flat!" Marcus slapped his forehead and rushed back to his car and shouted, "I'll let you know..." "Wait!" Ben ran to the car. "I have Simon's address. Perhaps he's there." Ben opened his wallet and removed the scrap of paper. "Here." Marcus grabbed it. "Thank you, Ben. I'll try it." The car made a jump as Marcus slammed the accelerator. How could he be so blockheaded, he wondered. Nicholas had gone to his flat that first time they'd had a falling out, why he shouldn't be there a second time? Arriving, he hammered on Nick's door but knew instinctively that the flat beyond it was empty. Pitifully, he sat down on the dirty staircase to wait in case Nicholas was just out at the market. After twenty minutes he realized that Nick wasn't going to appear. While sitting there on the stairs, Marcus thought of Nick's parents. It might be possible, though unlikely, that he had taken refuge there. Clutching at every straw now, he drove to the heart of the city, where blocks of graffity-coloured tenements lined trashy streets casting grim shadows over stray dogs and disenfranchised youths. He mounted the stairs to Nicholas' parents flat with single minded purpose, and arriving, leaned impatiently on the doorbell. The sound of shuffling steps could be heard through the smudged door and in short order he faced Nicholas' father. It was difficult for Marcus to see even a trace of his lover in the figure that stood before him in worn-out track suit bottoms, a soiled and sweaty undershirt and a day's grimy beard. "What do you want?" he said with disgust. "Nicholas. Is he here?" "Nicholas? Why should he be? I thought he was with you, enjoying the trappings of people like you." "You haven't seen him in the last few days?" Rudolf's face sneered. "Of course I've seen him in the last few days." "Yes?" Marcus made a step forward into the flat. "Tell me where and when." "Hey, I didn't say you could come in." But Marcus took another step forward and Rudolf retreated. Marcus shut the door behind him, raising his voice, "Tell me!" Rudolf's eyes darted around the stranger, never looking directly at him. "He was here, spreading presents he bought. Apparently he's a rich man now, isn't he? Or was it your money?" At that, his gaze settled on Marcus. "I told him and now I'll tell you. I don't want the money of a faggot! I worked my whole life with my own hands, and I have no use for the dirty money that comes from a lay about!" Marcus looked at if he would hit Rudolf in the face. "Shut your mouth! All what I want to know is where your son is?" "How should I know? Did you treat him so badly that he ran away? Perhaps I should go directly to the police and press charges! What did you do to my son?" Marcus' anger dissipated. Nick wasn't here. Any more discussion was useless. "If he should turn up, tell him to come back home. Please." With that Marcus turned and left the flat. On the ground floor a door opened slightly and the man peered through, apparently to see what the commotion was about. Ludwig Reisig and Marcus' eyes met and Ludwig opened his door wider. "Are you Marcus?" he asked almost timidly. "Yes," Marcus was astonished. "Come in, please." Marcus was greeted by a tiger cat coming around the corner to see check out the guest. "I'm sorry, I'm Ludwig Reisig. Come along, please." On the kitchen table were the remains of a poor breakfast and Marcus became aware that he hadn't eaten since the afternoon before. His stomach's growling was audible. "You are hungry, yes?" Ludwig smiled and motioned at the rolls, butter and marmalade. "Help yourself. I'm not hungry anymore." Without asking, he made fresh coffee. Marcus helped himself to the fresh rolls. Ludwig seemed to watch every move he made. "I assume you were upstairs at Nick's home, yes? Had a row with his father? He's just came from his night shift... he was probably tired." "You are well informed." Marcus managed. "Well," Ludwig smiled again. "Nick was here a couple of days ago and poured his heart out." "He was? Why?" "Because he was lonely. He'd had a quarrel with his father over gifts he'd brought. His father didn't want them. Said he didn't want anything bought with the money of a fa..." Ludwig swallowed the rest. Marcus nodded. It seemed clear now. "And he told me about you, that you were absent and he felt lonely." Ludwig studied Marcus' face. "I know, I was gone too long and didn't get a chance to call. But is that any reason to run away?" "Run away? You can't find him?" Marcus nodded. "I was at his school, at his flat and now here." "This is bad." "Did he mention an Alex?" "Alex? No. Only that he's happy with you." Color rose in Ludwig's face. "At least it seemed so to me." Marcus closed his eyes. He was happy with you. And now you've messed it up, you clod... He emptied his cup. "Thank you, Ludwig. I appreciate this greatly. If you should hear from Nick, please call me." Marcus removed a visiting card from his breast pocket and left it on the kitchen table.The first twittering of birds woke Nicholas from a deep sleep. He hadn't expected to sleep so well after all that had happened, but he felt much better this morning. Just as Sebastian had promised. He smiled and rubbed his eyes.
Creeping out of bed, he went to the window and pushed it open to look over the lovely garden below. The house was still quiet and Nicholas wondered where Sebastian's and Kay's bedroom was situated. Perhaps next to his on this same floor? After he relieved himself in the bathroom he slipped into a T-shirt and jeans and inspected the house. It was similar to Marcus' and he felt instantly comfortable.
In the living room he had a brief look at the Venetian mirrors standing on a sideboard, the strange Drink Horns from Persia, the Etruscan Goldfibulas and paused before a marble bust of a beautiful young man 'Antinous' according to the engraving. Nicholas believed he had seen it before but couldn't remember where.
He came to a patio with comfortable looking armchairs, coloured cushions and a low table, and in every corner stood large terracotta bowls full of plants. It went on into the garden and Nicholas understood why Sebastian preferred to stay here than in grim Berlin. What if Kay would stay here? How had their relationship had developed, he wondered. Yesterday it looked as if they were both happy together... but then he'd had only a very brief look.
Hearing naked feet on the stone floor, he turned. It was Sebastian, dressed only in jeans and looking very tired. "What are you doing up so early? I thought you would sleep like a marmot." He smiled. "Good morning, Nicki."
"Morning, Bastian. Yes, I did sleep like a marmot, but the twittering of the birds woke me."
"Come in, it's still cool outside. Hungry? How about ham and eggs?"
"Yes, please." He followed Sebastian into the kitchen where he started the coffee machine.
"Let me get that. Where's Kay? Are you sleeping together?" He bit his lip. Again his tongue was faster than his thoughts. Sebastian turned, amused.
"What makes you think that we wouldn't be? He's a sleepy head, you know."
"And you?"
Sebastian laughed. "Usually, yes. But I woke, thought of you and thought I ought to check on you. You do want breakfast, don't you?"
"I could have made it by myself. You know, I'm not a baby."
Sebastian came around the table and embraced him. "No one thinks you are. How do you feel? I will try to phone Marcus later. Either he has lost his cellular phone or he will be back at home by now. I'm sure of it." Sebastian's body warmth made Nicholas weak. He breathed in his special scent, though unwashed it was still pleasant, even the unshaved cheeks were soft to his skin.
Nicholas missed the scent for cinnamon and lemons but Sebastian's smell of rosemary and sage or something similar - a very Italian scent - caused him to hold Sebastian tight for a moment longer. Then he abruptly broke the embrace, "Let's not do this," he whispered.
"Do what?" Sebastian whispered back.
"How is it with you and Kay? Will he stay with you until the end?"
Sebastian moved to the stove. "Until the end? Of the world? Until we are old and gray? Dying?" He shrugged. "We spoke just yesterday about it. Yes, I want him to stay. But he has to go back to quit his job. To pack his bags. Whatever."
As the coffee gurgled into the jug Kay appeared in the kitchen, also dressed only in his jeans and with rumpled hair.
"Hi," he said and with almost closed eyes, sat at the kitchen table. Nicholas grinned.
"Is he always in such condition in the morning? How can you love such a sleepy head?" he teased, almost in Kay's ear, making him jump.
"Man! And how can you be in such a good mood so early in the morning?" he shouted.
Sebastian laughed. "I certainly missed the way you are together."
He held the scrambled eggs under Kay's nose and the boy rose perked up at the scent. "Hm, smells really good."
Sebastian dished up.
"Nice tattoo, sweetie," Nicholas said with full mouth, pointing to Kay's upper arm.
"Isn't it? It was created by my last lover, who owned a tattoo shop."
Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "So it's permanent?"
"Yes. It will stay with me always." He looked at Nicholas. "Sleep well?"
"Yes, thanks. It's a nice room and an even nicer bed. Do you have to work today?" he asked Sebastian.
"No. No more work before Kay leaves. So we'll have time to find out what's happen to Marcus."
Nicholas flinched at the mention of Marcus' name. "You think he has lost his phone and somebody was playing a joke?"
"That's the only answer I can think of."
"But why hasn't he call me?"
"Let us have our breakfast first, Nicki. Then we can sort it out."
"Have you seen a lot here in Rome?"
"Indeed. Yesterday we were at the old Forum, it's where Bastian works. He showed me all the ruins and pillars and the grave of Rom ... what is the name? ... the founder of Rome. And then the Colosseum, the Capitol and the little island in the river. Oh, and the Spanish Staircase."
Kay touched the bandaide on his head. Nicholas noticed, "Where did you get that?" he asked.
"Um, I guess you could say it was a souvenir I picked up the other night."
Nicholas tossed a puzzled look at Sebastian. "He was keen to see the Colosseum in it's nightime glory, and he was robbed. "
"Unfortunately yes. The motorbike and my wallet, both gone."
"And your shoes. But you've learned something new every day, sweetie." Sebastian laughed.
Nicholas smiled weakly. He would have given a lot for the lightheartedness of these men. Suddenly he felt like an intruder into their blissful place.
"What would you like to see first?" Kay asked.
"I'm not here to make a sightseeing tour." Nicholas said tired. "And I don't want to disturb you."
Kay rolled his eyes at Sebastian. "I only thought you would enjoy it, distract you from your brooding."
"Sorry, Kay. Of course. I would like to see everything."
"Hah, you would need a lifetime to see all that! But let's start with a nice view of Rome, what do you think?"
Nicholas smiled.
It was almost noon when Marcus arrived at home again. In his pocket he felt for the scrap of paper Ben had given him with Simon's address. He hadn't the energy to see him now, and calling ahead would probably be a bad idea. He'd rest for just a bit and then go round to Simon's flat. And maybe Nick would be there. As he was unlocking the front door, a man stepped out from behind a bush. "Alex!" Marcus exclaimed with surprise. Reacting to the odd look in Alex's eyes Marcus grew suddenly nervous. "What have you done to Nick?" Alex's face paled. "Nick? Who's that?" "Come on, don't fool around. You saw George with me in London. And I know what you think of it, am I right, Alex?" Alex had regained his composure. "I have no clue what you are talking about. Yes, I saw you and this ... George together, but why should I care?" Marcus motioned him to come in and Alex followed. "You know very well that Nick and I ... so you put one and one together and told Nick to spite me, isn't that so?" "And why should I do that?" "Why are you here? Lying in wait for me?" Marcus was nearly shouting, his nerves absolutely shot. "I didn't know the young boy meant so much to you." Alex said almost innocently. Marcus went into the living room and sat at the edge of the couch. Alex followed and took the opposite armchair. "Let us stop this," Marcus said. "If you did say something and Nicholas is gone because of it, then I would like to know the reason." "Can I have something to drink please?" Alex asked. "This early the day? If I remember rightly, you never drank a drop." "It's different now." Alex watched Marcus poured in a glass of whisky and a second for himself. Alex didn't like whisky but it didn't matter now. "You want to know the story, yes?" he said after the first gulp. Marcus nodded. "Well, it all began with my last trip to Paris. You know, the Marie Antoinette brooch we were after. Everything was going fine until I got a call from Berlin. It was the hospital telling me that Philip - my son - had had a bad car accident. He was unconscious, his condition deteriorating, they requested I return immediately." He threw a wary gaze to Marcus who looked dismayed. "I know we didn't know the woman who wanted to sell the brooch, but suddenly there was no time for another appraisal. The woman pressured, telling me if I wouldn't buy the brooch right then she would sell it to somebody else. What was I suppose to do? I knew how keen you were for the piece and how apparently precious it was." He took another gulp. "I wasn't thinking clearly. In fact, all I was could think of was my son and that I wanted to be with him..." Marcus remembered that Alex had lost his wife about a year before the Paris trip and that his son was all he had. He emptied his glass and felt his headache return. "I bought the brooch and returned to Berlin to find that Philip was still living. But the doctors made it clear that he would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. You know it hit him hard because he always loved sports, climbing in the mountains, walking, playing games. He was also engaged, planning to marry within the month. Well, it would hit anyone hard, wouldn't it?" Again he looked at Marcus who sat slumped in the corner of the couch. "Why didn't you tell me this?" "Why?" Alex laughed bitterly. "You never gave me the chance to explain, Marcus. After you found out that the brooch was a fake you but me to pieces with your temper, there was no room for explanations. You weren't interested in the reasons. I'm not a stupid man, Marcus. You should have known that there had to be a good reason for my failure. "Anyway. Philip was discharged from the hospital... I took a flat on the ground floor because of the wheelchair. Then his girlfriend left him, his friends deserted him, leaving only me to care for him." Alex offered his empty glass for a refill. Marcus took the bottle and poured out the amber liquid, his hand trembling slightly. He still couldn't figure out the connection between this and Nicholas' disappearance. "Philip was in bad condition, he couldn't face the future the doctors had painted for him - that he would live out his days in that chair. I moved in with him, caring for him like a baby, just like a baby in fact, emptying the bags of piss, moving his bowls. Then I heard of a doctor in the USA with therapies for those that are paralyzed. He's had sensational success. I wrote to the doctor and he said it would be possible to operate Philip, but reading the cost, I knew I would never be able to pay for it. It was a huge sum. I asked if it would be possible to make payments in installments, it was. All I needed was a job." Alex paused and glared hatefully at Marcus. "Yes, I tried to get a job, Marcus. How many times did I ask you? How many times did you reject me?" "But I didn't know..." "Shut your mouth, man. True, you didn't know the reason but wouldn't it have been fair to give me a second chance? Just for old time's sake? For the years of loyal service I'd already given you? You weren't the least bit interested in how I was paying my rent. It's true, you've always paid your people well, why else would I have begged you to take me back? Would you have employed me again if you'd known about Philip and the surgery?" Marcus' look was bewildered. "But what .. I don't understand..." "No, you don't understand. Of course not. I wasn't able to get a job. There was no hope for the surgery and Philip ran out of courage and patience. He gave up on the 26th of December. I found him on the floor, his head split apart by a bullet from my pistol. What did YOU do that day?" Marcus' face was ash grey. The ache in his head throbbed steadily, like a blacksmith swinging his hammer against his skull. What a horror story. And he'd had no clue about it. Alex and his damn reserve. One word and Marcus could have assured the surgery. Now it was too late. Far too late. Alex had emptied his second glass and his cheeks were burning. A diabolic grin spread out over his face. "You are the reason for his suicide!" He spoke clearly and slowly, his forefinger nearly piercing Marcus' chest. "Why should you be happy when Philip is dead?" Alex jumped up and smashed the glass into the carpet. It didn't break, but the remains of the whiskey dribbled into the fibers. Oddly, Marcus had a brief thought about how angry it would make Anna to see such a thing. He raised his head just in time to see Alex's fist swinging toward his face. He jumped up, grabbed Alex by the collar and twisted his arm behind his back. Alex whined in pain and went limp. "It was you!" Marcus hissed. "You tried to kill Nicholas. Admit it!" He twisted even more Alex's arm. "Yes," Alex panted. "Of course it was me. I've lost my little boy, you should lose yours." Marcus suddenly released Alex. "You bastard!" he spoke through menacing, clenched teeth. "Get out of my way. You must be insane. If you want to take revenge then you should kill me, not an innocent boy!" His face was an angry red and the little blacksmith in his brain hammered even harder. Standing in the middle of the living room, Alex began to laugh. First it was a high-pitched giggling, then it spread to a sound which filled the whole house. Marcus turned and held his palms over his ears. He neither wanted to hear that laughter nor to see Alex's loony face. All that he could think of was how to prevent another attack on Nicholas. Like a flash he turned again and slapped Alex across the mouth. "Don't you dare to do anything to Nicholas again. I'll kill you, I swear it!" Marcus hissed and Alex's laughter abruptly subsided. "It doesn't matter to me, Marcus. Kill me if you want. I'm dead already." With that he turned and left the house. Marcus' head was spinning and enduring the pain was quickly becoming nearly impossible. Infuriated, he stomped Alex's glass into the carpet where it broke. What ought he to do next? Follow Alex and prevent Nicholas from further attacks? He shook his head and screwed his eyes up in pain. Alex didn't know where Nick was, of that he was sure, therefore, it was a good bet he'd had nothing to do with his disappearance. Marcus sank into the couch and ran his hands through his hair. Alex had lost his son. He had reason to be mad, to have lost his sense as a result of the pain, to hate Marcus for his selfishness, for his ignorance, for his arrogance. You've always considered yourself to be a nearly flawless man, haven't you? But look at all the ways you've fucked up - Sebastian, Simon, Alex and now Nick. This realization hit him hard, a punch to the solar plexus - and he saw all those faces before his eyes: Sebastian, now with Kay... Simon, doomed to die... and Nick - where and with whom? How must he feel now? Certainly betrayed and perhaps despairing. Marcus crouched down, arms resting on his knees. He recalled Nicholas whispering 'I love you' after the last time they had made love, to which he had answered with silence. Why hadn't he just said what he was feeling? He loved Nicholas, didn't he? But he'd never said it out loud to anyone before and he wasn't sure he could bring himself to say it even now. Yet all the little things he remembered, all things which made up Nick's personality. That he could feel very clear in his heart - or wherever such a feelings were produced. It wasn't hard to love Nicholas. And now Marcus was responsible not only for Nick's sorrow but for Alex's too. Even Nicholas had asked him to hire Alex again, but all Marcus could think of was his own reputation, as if anybody would have known of Alex's failure. If only Alex had mentioned it, Marcus would have given all his money to save the young man's life. He realized it wasn't easy to share your tragedy or sorrow with others, but he was no stranger to Alex. Alex should have told him. He realized he was oversimplifying things to ease his guilt. Yet, Nick was first and foremost in his mind. He must find him and try to make right what he could, before something else was beyond repair. Would Nicholas believe that George meant nothing to him? Another lie. George had meant something to him. He'd spent two night with the man, and although he didn't actually fuck him, Marcus was pretty sure Nick wouldn't care if the actual act had taken place. It was still betrayal, and for what? An Antique. He'd lost Simon to the obsession. And though Sebastian had tried to warn him about it happening again, the advice had fallen on deaf ears. If he'd lost Nicholas also... he only could hope that it wasn't too late. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to go to Simon. And if he was not at home, he would wait upon the staircase until he did return. He had to speak to him. To be continued