Page 114 of Everything That Kills Me
“They wouldn’t tell us either. We followed the trail and it led us in circles.”
“Oh.”
“Any guesses?”
“If you weren’t able to find out then no.”Distract.“I thought for a while it was my father. But he’s not had anything to do with me since I was sixteen. It could have been money my mother left me.” He stared straight at Penshurst. No way would he mention Jack. “I did think about refusing it, but… You think it might come back to bite me?”
“If it did, you’d have to immediately tell your supervisor. It would be unusual for someone to attempt bribery so long before you were working for the government, especially when there’s no certainty you’d take a job with us, but your skill level is high. If it is pre-emptive blackmail, we’ve not seen it done before. It could be useful to us.”
Oh God.
“And yet, if you weren’t such a brilliant student, we’d probably have passed on you because of it.”
The guy pushed to his feet and held out his hand. Zeph stood and shook it.
“I’m looking forward to seeing your work on facial recognition and body composition algorithms.”
“Thank you.”
Zeph was in a daze when he left the room. He wouldn’t say anything to Martin and Paulo until he had the actual offer. Even then, he’d not be able to tell them much and they couldn’t tell anyone. It would have to be his secret.
Along with Jack.
And along with the blood tests he’d recently had at the hospital. Maybe that was something he should have mentioned to Penshurst, but Zeph hoped there was no need, that nothing was the matter with him.
While almost everyone on Zeph’s staircase was going for Christmas dinner at the college’s last Formal Hall, he was in the kitchen cooking beans on toast. Most students would leave at the end of this week, but Zeph had permission to stay an extra ten days to work in the computer lab. His laptop wasn’t powerful enough to do what he needed.
He’d signed the acceptance letter for the GCHQ job.Zeph couldn’t see what security issues his appointment might raise, but it was still a relief. The salary was at the top end of what graduates were offered there. Still lower than if he’d got a job with Google or Apple or a big bank but he liked the idea of helping keep the country safe. He wasn’t brave enough to be a policeman though it was what he’d wanted to do after he’d gone off the idea of being an astronaut or an astronomer.
Last weekend, he’d told Martin and Paulo and their reaction had been more lukewarm than he’d expected. But when Paulo mentioned the GCHQ employee who’d been found dead inside a zipped bag in his bath, Zeph understood why. After reassuring them he wasn’t working for MI6 and had no interest in being an operational agent, they’d been happier.
He washed up after his beans on toast and tidied the kitchen. No one was around now. The whole staircase was quiet. No rock music blaring from the ground floor from Steve’s room. No violin from Alex’s. Zeph might be used to being alone, but he was still lonely. The tightness in his chest told him he needed to do something about that. Make more effort. Find a friend, even if only to have coffee with.
Commit to a random act of kindness.
Those were the words on a piece of paper given to him by Paulo that he’d stuck to his whiteboard. A cure for feeling sad. Making someone else happydidmake Zephhappy. Buying a meal for a homeless person. Picking up litter. Reading to a guy in an old folk’s home. Except he didn’t particularly want to goout tonight. It was cold and threatening to snow. The random act of kindness could wait.
He went back upstairs, unlocked his room and almost collapsed when he saw Jack lying on his bed.What the fuck? How?Joy…anger…delight…rage… He was pulled in multiple directions. Every day it had hurt a little less and now that pain came roaring back as if it had never gone at all, just waited to pounce. Though not just pain.Damn him.Zeph thought about walking out, but this was his room. How the hell had Jack got in?
Jack stood. “If you want me to leave, tell me.”
Speaking was currently impossible, but Zeph managed to shake his head. He was owed an explanation. He pushed the door closed behind him.
Angry as he was, it wasn’t Jack’s fault that Zeph had fallen so hard.
Not his fault that all Zeph’s hopes and dreams for what might have been had died on that journey back from France.
Jack had warned him not to get attached. But Zeph literally had no idea what to say. How could he still feel alone when Jack was there in front of him? Jack had lived and laughed and maybe loved without him. Jealousy bit hard and it hurt.It fucking hurts! And I still want him. Fuck!
He struggled for the right thing to say. The longer he struggled, the more imperative it seemed that he saidexactlythe right thing.Where have you been? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you get in touch?
“Are you with anyone?” Jack asked.
The moment for those questions was lost. Zeph almost laughed. How could he tell Jack that the memory of him, of the ball, of France, of what they’d done was too much for him to contemplate being with anyone else? That he was ruined, thateven sitting with another guy was painful? He couldn’t say any of that. Bad enough to be so vulnerable, but to show it?
“No.”Oh God, I spoke.“I’m not with anyone.” Just in case Jack had forgotten what he’d asked.
How could he tell Jack that he could still feel his lips on his mouth, his hand on his cock, the vibration of his chuckles against his neck? How could he tell him any of that and not freak him out?
