Page 28 of No Man's Land

“For your sake, not mine.”

Josef felt a different kind of goose bumps, and he tensed. “That sounds like a threat, Captain Winchester.”

“It’s not. I…regret that you’ve been hurt, that’s all. And I’m afraid you’ll be hurt again, or worse, before this is over.”

“And why should you care about that?”

A huff of self-mocking laughter and Alex’s hand withdrew. “A very good question to which I have no satisfactory answer.”

“You don’t haveanysatisfactory answers,” Josef pointed out, turning around. He found Alex watching him, his once-ashy face now warm. Flushed. Their eyes met, locking in a complex tangle of desire and distrust. Despite his accelerating pulse, Josef made himself say, “I’m deadly serious. If you don’t tell me the truth about what the hell’s going on, I’m taking this straight to my editor.”

After a considering pause, Alex said, “Has it ever occurred to you that you might not want to know the truth?”

“Like a child, you mean, protected from a harsh world by his elders and betters? No, it bloody well hasn’t occurred to me. Ignorance is not bliss, Alex. Ignorance is a prison.”

Shaking his head, Alex looked away. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If I don’t, it’s because your lot think the likes of me don’t deserve to know the truth—”

“Deserve?” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it even more dishevelled. “Christ, do you think it’s aprivilege?”

“Of course it bloody well is! And the only reason you can’t see it is because you’ve enjoyed that privilege your whole sodding life.”

Alex opened his mouth on a retort, then snapped it shut so hard Josef heard his teeth click. After a pause, in a more moderate tone, he said, “Take a bath. I’ll have your clotheslaundered; they stink of—of the sewer.” He grimaced, glancing down at himself. “As do I.”

He headed for the door, but Josef grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “You have to tell me. And no more lies—”

“All right!” Alex yanked his arm away, retreating a step. “If that’s what you want, I’ll tell you. But I’m warning you, Shepel, there’s no coming back from this. Once you know, you know. And you may live to regret that choice.”

With that, he stalked out of the bathroom, steam billowing out after him and the cool air from the rest of the flat chilling Josef’s bare skin.

***

Despite the strangeness of the situation, the luxurious bath was incredible—scented with flowers, and hot enough to turn him pink all over—and went a long way to easing Josef’s bruised body and aching head.

At one point, while he lay up to his neck in water, Alex returned with a large towel and a pile of clean clothes. He left them on the wicker chair, scooped up Alex’s filthy clothes, and disappeared without a word. Josef was somewhat surprised he didn’t have ‘a man’ to do such things for him. Then again, perhaps having naked socialists in your bathtub tended to cause gossip ‘Lord Beaumont’ would rather avoid.

He mulled on that title as he lay in the warm water, gazing up at the ceiling. The doorman had used it, and Alex appeared to live openly as Lord Beaumont. If he were a fake, surely the real Lord Beaumont would notice?

Which suggested that Captain Winchester had been the fake name. Fake rank too, which Josef was quite certain was the sort of offence that could get a man shot at dawn. If—when—he wrote this whole bizarre story up for theClarion, he’d perhaps avoid mentioning Alex’s alias. After all, despite his highhanded arrogance, hehadsaved Josef’s life down in the sewer.

Even if his secrecy and scheming had caused Josef to risk it in the first place.

As the water cooled, Josef reluctantly climbed out of the bathtub and dried himself with the largest, softest towel he’d ever seen. It felt like a cloud wrapped around him. How the other half lived, eh?

At some point in his life, it might have felt a little odd, wearing another man’s underwear, but after the deprivations of the front, he barely gave that a second thought. Alex’s clothes—trousers, a striped shirt with no collar, and a heavy woollen cardigan—were a little large, but not ridiculously so, and Josef left the bathroom feeling a good deal better than when he’d entered. He found himself in a pleasant room, with expensive-looking furniture, a thick carpet, and soft gas lights on the modern mantel. A dining table stood at one end, close to the night-black window.

Alex was nowhere in sight, so Josef wandered over to the window, cupped his hands around his eyes, and peered out into the dark. The fog had thinned—or perhaps it was thinner this high up—and he could see London’s chimney pots and steeples poking up out of the mist, stretching away from them beneath a glitter of stars.

“The rent is cheaper up here,” Alex said from behind him. “People think there’s a fire risk, you see, but I took this one for the view. When it’s clear, you can see as far as Highgate.”

Josef turned from the window to find Alex on the other side of the room. Like him, his hair was wet, swept back neatly now, and he’d changed into clean clothes—a warm-looking roll-neck sweater and slim tweed trousers. He looked…good. Attractive.Appealing. Josef couldn’t suppress a pang of want, which was distracting and counterproductive. Ignoring it, he said, “I think I forgot to thank you and your friend for coming to my assistance tonight.”

“Not necessary.” Alex strolled towards a sideboard that was set beneath a large mirror on the long wall of the room. “Drink? I’ve a rather wider selection here than in Poperinge.”

“I’ll take a whisky if you have it, with a splash of water.”

“Of course.” Alex busied himself fetching glasses and pouring their drinks, keeping his back turned. Procrastinating. When he was done, he indicated the chairs before the fire, and they sat, nursing their drinks. The warmth from the blaze felt good on Josef’s feet, cosy in the warm wool socks Alex had given him. He was entirely too comfortable and was afraid that was the point, that he was being managed.

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