Page 150 of Reinventing Cato
“No.”
“Watch porn?”
Vigge chuckled.
“Oh God, if you say no to porn, I’ll feel obliged to call the doctor. Possibly even dial 9-9-9 because itwillbe an emergency.”
“I’m fine.” More than fine. Cato was like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s day. He made Vigge smile more than anyone he’d ever met. He made him feel as if his life could be different. He’d already made his life different. Vigge wasn’t going back. He was only looking forward. He’d spent too much of his life closed off. He’d let guilt and sadness over losing his brother and his family smother him for too long.I’m not being the person I could be.He’d been getting there with Cato, and with Cato by his side, he could reinvent himself too.
The trapeze had been a start. Something completely out of character. Vigge wanted to be different. Honest with his colleagues. Open about being gay.I’ve wasted too much time.
But… Vigge didn’t want there to be a but, though there was.I don’t want to lose Cato, but I have to let him go without telling him how much I want him to stay.It wasn’t fair otherwise. Cato needed to make the decision without Vigge’s interference. Vigge hadn’t known him long enough to expect him to even think there was a choice to be made.
He listened to Cato coming in and out of the house several times and wondered how much he’d brought with him. When he got up to use the bathroom, he found out.
Cato stood in the hall wringing his hands. “It didn’t look this much in the boot and back seat. God, my car is actually a TARDIS. I had no idea.”
Violins, an amp, two suitcases, several boxes, laptop bag, a couple of sports bags and groceries.
“I didn’t want to leave anything important in the house. It’s not a moving-in-by-stealth—honestly. Ah well, it sort of is. I’ve moved out of Selwyn Road, so technically, I’m homeless until I find somewhere else to rent, though I can stay in college for a little while. I just need to store some stuff if that’s okay. I should have asked. I didn’t want to freak you out. Sorry. You can cope with a couple of violins and a lanky violinist for a couple of weeks, right?”
Why did that make Vigge’s heart sing? “As long as you don’t mention eels again.”
“What if I saywhat a cute sealand you think I’m saying…what a cute…the other word.”
“I don’t think there could be any occasion when an eel could be called cute.”
“Not even if it was wearing a red bow and a top hat?”
Vigge laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cato had made carrot and coriander soup and brought it with him. He’d not transported everything he owned. The bed, desk, chair and a few other items were his, and he’d arrange for them to be moved once he’d found somewhere to rent. He wasn’t keen on living in college. It made him feel old being around all those undergrads. Even if Vigge said he could stay with him indefinitely, and Cato really wasn’t expecting that, he couldn’t. The house was too far from Cambridge, and Cato wouldn’t lie about his address. Weekends at Vigge’s would be fine. Maybe the occasional night midweek.
Assuming that was what Vigge wanted.
Cato had caused so much trouble for him, maybe he was ready to part ways. Except Cato really hoped not. When he’d told his supervisor what had happened, Alistair had been suitably horrified. Cato didn’t want to mess things up this close to finishing his doctorate, but he was on top of things academically, just a little wobbly emotionally.
He poured the soup into bowls and went to the door of the lounge to tell Vigge it was ready. “Soup’s on the table.”
Vigge shoved off the throw, pushed to his feet and followed Cato to the kitchen. They sat down and Cato helped himself to a slice of bread.
“Have you told your parents what’s happened?” Cato asked.
“Some of it.”
“I didn’t realise being a policeman was so dangerous.”
“I could say the same about being an astrophysicist.”
Cato huffed out a brief laugh. “A policeman and an astrophysicist went into a bar and got into trouble.”
“I think it started before then.”
“At the airport?”
“I’ve never given a lift to a hitchhiker. But I gave you one.”
