Page 134 of Reinventing Cato
Cato would have been happy to give the party a miss, but Vigge wanted him to behave normally, particularly with Sam and Pedro. So at lunchtime on Saturday, Cato drove back to Cambridge behind Vigge. As was typical of a Saturday in Cambridge, there was nowhere close by for Vigge to park. Cato paced on the drive as he waited for him to turn up, not wanting to go into the house by himself.I’m more spooked than I thought.He turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Vigge jogging towards him. He held out his hand for him and they walked inside together.
As Cato closed the door, Sam appeared in the hallway and Cato put a smile on his face.Damn it, I don’t normally do that.
“Thanks for helping us get stuff in.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were going to do it together.”
Cato winced. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. What can I do now?”
“Cook? Pedro wants kebabs. We bought chicken and veg.”
“Just let me take my things upstairs.”
Once they were in his room, Vigge closed the door and put his hand over Cato’s mouth.Wait,he mouthed.
“What sort of food do you usually do for a party?” Vigge started to search the room.
When Cato didn’t answer, Vigge turned and raised his eyebrows. “Crisps and nuts? Pineapple and cheese on sticks?”
Cato’s heart thumped, but he forced out a laugh. “When did you last go to a party? When you were at school?” He searched too, assuming Vigge was looking for a camera or microphone.
“It’s just that kebabs sound a bit elaborate.” Vigge looked under the bed.
“Sam and Pedro like my kebabs.”
“But not your nuts?”
Cato choked out a laugh. Vigge smiled at him.
Oh God, say something else.“We’ve had two parties here so far. One after I moved in and one just before Christmas. The first was just crisps and nuts, but for the Christmas one, I did the food and went for the elaborate, table-sagging buffet, no-one will leave this house hungry approach.”Damn it, I’m waffling.Though listing the food they’d eaten would keep his mind on track as they searched.
“I did a couple of different salads, one with pomegranate and pumpkin seeds and feta cheese that was delicious, a lot of mini-Yorkshire puddings filled with horseradish and thinly sliced beef, tandoori chicken skewers, king prawns, pizza slices…”
Vigge had run his fingers underneath the chest of drawers, looked down the back, now he began lifting out the drawers, checking underneath before sliding them back into place.
“Now I’m hungry,” Vigge said. “Come here.” But he shook his head.
Oh God.“Why does kissing you make me forget my name?” Cato whispered.
“Do we have to go straight back downstairs?” Vigge pulled out the drawer with Cato’s toys and the leather harnesses, looked at him and raised his eyebrows.
“Yes. I have to help. I forgot I was supposed to go with them to buy the stuff for the party. Ohh. How quick can you be? Don’t answer that. I already know. Very quick.” Cato smiled at Vigge’s glare. “Yes, yeeessss.”
But when Vigge dropped to his knees to look inside the bottom of the unit, Cato could tell by the way he froze that he’d found something. Hopefully, it was nothing worse than a large spider, or one of his dildoes that had escaped over the back of the drawer.
Vigge turned to beckon him and Cato dropped down at his side.
“Don’t freak out,” Vigge whispered into his ear.
Cato crouched down and saw a plastic bag taped to the wood at the back of where the drawer would sit. Inside the bag was what appeared to be his letter opener. A letter opener with ominous telltale stains. He reached out without thinking and Vigge wrapped his fingers around his wrist and tugged his hand back.
There had been moments in Cato’s life when he’d been terrified, nearly falling from the roof when he was a kid, his interview for Cambridge because he wanted the place so much, and more recently swinging on the trapeze, but they all paled into insignificance compared to this. He rolled away on the floor with his fist pressed against his mouth to hold back his scream.
Vigge wrapped his arms around him and put his lips to Cato’s ear. “Breathe.”
Cato wasn’t sure he wanted to take another breath. He wasn’t going to come out of this. The murder weapon hidden in his room? What way back was there? But Vigge was holding him, whispering to him, stroking his face, trying to calm him.What is he saying?
“Is it yours?” Vigge whispered. “Cato, listen. Is it yours?”
He nodded. “I think so.”
