Chapter 15

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Chapter 15: Resolve

Quite understandably, I was tired enough on Friday morning to gratefully accept Greg's suggestion that I grab forty winks once we drove out to the Al Qasimi compound. I could have sworn I'd just closed my eyes when I felt Greg nudging me.

"Our boy's on the move, Rick, but he's in the Rolls today. Call Dré so he and Vince can start following him from the mosque, okay?"

I wiped the remnants of sleep from my eyes with one hand as I pulled my mobile out of my pocket with the other. Dré picked up on the first ring.

"What's up?" he asked curtly.

"Ashok just left the compound. He should be reaching you shortly, driving the Seraph. Let me know when you spot him and take the lead in following him, right?"

"Yeah, hold on," he paused for a moment. "There he is. We see him. He's turning onto the main road towards Dubai."

"Good. Follow him and ring me when he turns off the main road so we know where to go."

"Got it. Say, it's rather fun playing spy games, isn't it?"

"It'll be more fun when we're finished and back in London. Talk to you soon," I said as I ended the connection.

"They're following him and they're on the road back to Dubai," I informed Greg, who paused when we reached the mosque to wait for further instructions. "Was I out long?" I asked.

"Only about half an hour. We were lucky."

"Thanks for letting me do that. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," I explained, stretching as best I could within the confines of the car.

"I could tell," he said sympathetically, "and it was the least I could do, since I'm sure I was at least partially responsible for that lack of sleep."

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself. You're not nearly that tempting," I joked, though we both knew that wasn't what he meant. He took my hint and let it go. We made small talk as we drove back towards the city until my phone rang again.

"Yeah?"

"Rick, we turned left on Al Sufouh road and we've just turned into a hotel. Look for the Madinat Jumeirah. It's going to be just down a bit, after your turn, on the right," Dré said.

"Turn left. They went into the Madinat Jumeirah. It'll be on the right," I relayed to Greg.

"Once you're in, go about half way down and turn left," Dré instructed. "Look for the sign for the spa."

"Here we are," Greg said as he slowed down to turn into the Madinat.

"Look for the spa," I repeated Dré's directions. Greg found the sign and smoothly turned left.

"There they are," I pointed when I spotted the Rolls and our BMW rental, parked off to the side. We watched as Ashok jumped out of the car to let out his two female passengers, then closed the back door and walked quickly to take the wheel again.

"Probably Nasir's mother and sister-in-law," Greg guessed as he slowed the car to give Ashok time to pull away from the spa entrance. We drove past Vince and Dré and followed the Rolls to a small spa parking lot. We parked not too far away from where Ashok did and watched as Vince and Dré pulled their car in beside ours.

"Well, here we go. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Greg. I really hope this works out. I mean, no one's asked this kid what he wants yet. We could all just be wasting our time."

"If he wants to stay here, so be it, but I bet he'll want to come with us," Greg said with his usual optimism. "I just hope we can communicate. It didn't even occur to me to ask Nasir if Ashok speaks English."

"Well, no time like the present to find out. Besides, you can just hand him the phone and Nasir can explain everything in Arabic, right?"

"Good idea! That's exactly what I'll do."

Greg stepped out of the car and pulled out his mobile. I watched him speak as he walked over to the Seraph before he pulled out and answered the local mobile. He tapped on the window of the Rolls and spoke to the driver before handing over the disposable mobile. Then time stood still as I watched Greg waiting outside the car, while the boy inside spoke with Nasir. The longer the boy's conversation took, the worse I felt for my friend, who had to be uncomfortable standing out in the horrendous heat. Finally I saw Greg speak again and then walk around to get into the front passenger seat of the Rolls. I nearly jumped out of my own seat when I heard the back doors of our rental opening simultaneously. I looked back and calmed only when I saw it was Dré and Vince.

"Why so jumpy, Diggory?" Dré inquired as they closed the doors after climbing in.

"Blimey! You two nearly gave me a bloody heart attack," I complained. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that. Not in this country, anyway."

"We weren't sneaking. We just couldn't see as well from our car, so we thought we might as well keep you company in here. What's Greg doing?"

"I'm not sure. Ashok was on the phone with Nasir for a while, and then Greg got into the car on the passenger side. Now you know as much as I do," I reported. "I'm guessing he's probably explaining the plan to the boy. It might take a while if he doesn't speak English."

"He doesn't speak English?" Dré asked, incredulous. "How are we supposed to communicate with him, then?"

I shrugged. "I don't know for sure he doesn't speak English. Just before Greg went over we realized we never asked Nasir if he does or doesn't. Hopefully he will, at the very least, know some basic words. If not, we'll have to rely more on Nasir to translate from America."

"Oh, that's just bloody brilliant!" Dré was thoroughly agitated.

"Calm down, Dré, please," I looked back at him, exasperated. "At least wait until we know if there's anything to be upset about."

"If he doesn't know English, we'll just teach him," Vince said calmly. I gave him a grateful look, knowing this would be enough to shut Dré up.

For a while we were all silent, just watching the other car. As more time passed without any word from Greg, however, I became concerned.

"They're taking an awful long time. I do hope everything's all right," I expressed.

"Greg wouldn't keep us waiting without a good reason," Vince replied before Dré could even open his mouth.

"I assume the kid doesn't keep his passport with him when he's running errands. I wonder how long it will be before he can get it to us?" I mused out loud.

"Hopefully not long," Dré said. "I'm supposed to be back at work Monday. I can take extra time if I need to, but I'd rather save it for something I'd actually enjoy."

"Sounded like you two enjoyed yourselves plenty last night," I observed wryly. "I hardly got any sleep with all the racket."

"Jealous, Diggory?" Dré tried to provoke me, but I wasn't in the mood for games.

"Jealous? No. But envious as hell," I admitted.

"Well it's not like you couldn't do what we do if you'd only..." Dré began dispensing the usual advice.

"I know, Dré, alright? You can save your breath, because I've heard it all before. And if you must know, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. When we get back to London, things are going to change."

Dré snorted dubiously, but Vince leaned forward and clapped a hand over my shoulder. "That's a good thing, Rick," he endorsed.

"It's only a good thing if he actually does it. It's not like this is the first time..." Dré began.

"Look, Duck, Greg's coming back," Vince interrupted Dré, an occurrence so rare it stunned both Dré and me into silence until Greg was back in the driver's seat.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing?" Dré transferred his ire to Greg.

"Taking scuba lessons," Greg retorted sarcastically. "Talking, obviously."

"So he speaks English, then?" I asked.

"He does, and pretty well, though with an accent. He is the sweetest kid you could ever want to meet. And his eyes are so sad," Greg shook his head.

"Yeah?" I couldn't say I was really surprised, but hearing Greg say it made me feel even more compassion for the boy. My time with the man I loved was limited, but Ashok would never see his lover again. For once there was someone who was even worse off than I was, and my heart went out to him.

"So what are we doing now? We're starved," Dré announced.

"Starved," Vince echoed.

"My man's about to fall by the wayside," Dré exaggerated.

"Can't have that. Let's head back to the hotel for lunch," Greg suggested.

"That's the best idea I've heard all day. See you lot back at the Radisson," Dré eagerly agreed as he and Vince left for their BMW.

"We're absolutely doing the right thing, Rick. To hear him talk about Pankaj, it just breaks your heart," Greg shook his head as he put the car in gear. He waited for Vince and Dré to drive out, and pulled out behind them.

"I can't wait to meet him," I said, glancing back towards the Seraph. The kid's eyes met mine and I thought I detected a glimmer of hope. I smiled and we exchanged a wave. For the first time I was glad I came on the trip for reasons that had nothing whatsoever to do with H.

We had lunch back at the hotel, with Greg sharing more details of his conversation with Ashok. After lunch, having no plans but to wait for Ashok to let us know when he could get us his passport, we decided to spend the hottest part of the day resting in our rooms. I tried to stay up to keep Greg company, but I was still exhausted and ended up taking another long nap until Greg woke me up in time for tea.

We met Dré and Vince in the Royal Club on the tenth floor of the hotel. Scones with jam and watercress sandwiches and other treats covered our table as we took our tea.

"Alright, guys. Now we've found him, we have to decide what we're going to do with him," Greg began as the tea was steeping.

"What do you mean, what we're going to do with him?" Dré asked.

"Where he's going to live," Greg clarified.

"Ah," Dré nodded with understanding. "If we had an open flat in our building, I'd say maybe, but we don't."

"Rent free? Your father'd never stand for it, Duck," Vince said as he spread clotted cream and jam on his scone.

"I'd say he could stay with us, but I'm not sure it's wise to bring a strange man into our home while Victor is away, no matter how sweet and innocent he seems," Greg mused.

"H. has the house," I pointed out.

"Do you think he would let us use it?" Greg asked.

"Not bloody likely," Dré opined.

"Should he be left alone?" Vince spoke between bites of his scone. I had to give him credit for being the only one of us to actually think about the boy himself, instead of just considering our convenience.

"We all can check on him throughout the day and I could move in there with him for a while," I offered. "And if H. won't work with us, then Ashok can stay with me."

"You just have a one bedroom flat," Dré mentioned, as though I was unaware of the size of my own home.

"That's right, and I'm sure H. will be furious," I acknowledged, "but I won't let him get in the way." It was somewhat perverse, but I was almost hoping H. would refuse to let Ashok stay at his house. I'd enjoy having some companionship for a change, someone to go home to at night, even if it was just a temporary flat mate.

"Now that I'd like to see," Dré said and sipped his tea.

"Not to mention, Ashok would probably find my sofa more inviting than having his own room at either of your places, where he has to watch a happy couple every day. So soon after he's lost his partner, that would have to hurt," I reasoned from personal experience.

"Good point," Greg nodded. "It sounds like the best option we've got is H.'s place, if he goes for it that is," Greg summarized. "Failing that, he can stay with you, Rick. And we'll all help to make sure he doesn't feel left alone and isolated in a new country and all."

"What do we feel like for dinner, chaps?" Vince's change of subject signaled his agreement with our decisions. "There's La Moda if we feel like Italian. I've had my eye on the Palm Grill too, if we'd like a good bottle and a nice steak, yeah? Or there's Shabestan, the Persian restaurant with live music, if we want something more exotic."

"After last night I could do with a little less exotic," Dré opined.

"Vince, only you could plan a meal during a meal," I joked. We selected the steak house, and then Greg's mobile rang.

"It's Ashok!" Greg said as he glanced at the display. "Hi, Ashok." He paused to listen and then said for our benefit ""He has his passport."

Greg had a brief conversation with Ashok, who apparently was on his way to drop off his passport at our hotel. Vince and Dré elected to stay upstairs to finish their tea while I accompanied Greg to the lobby to wait for the boy. We killed some time with a pint at The Pub, one of the many drinking and dining venues inside our hotel, and then waited just inside the front entrance until we saw the Rolls pull up.

"We're not getting in," Greg informed the doorman who was ready to open the rear door. Instead, we walked around to the driver's side as Ashok lowered his window. "Thanks so much for coming round. Could you just mark where we're supposed to meet on this map?" Greg said and handed a map he picked up at the front desk to the boy. Ashok looked confused for a moment, but then understood and slipped his passport inside the map before handing it back.

"Brilliant," Greg slipped the map into his pocket. Ashok looked up at us with moist eyes. Suddenly he put the car in park and stepped out, throwing his arms around my friend in a tight hug.

"Thank you," the boy whispered, and I could hear the entire weight of his gratitude behind the simple phrase.

"We're glad to do it, Ashok," Greg said as he hugged him back. When the two finally let go Ashok turned to me. He was a head shorter than I was, and had to look up. I stared down at him, lost in his beautiful, deep chocolate eyes.

"Ashok, meet my friend Rick," Greg introduced me. I smiled and offered the boy my hand, but he reached up to hug me as tightly as he had hugged Greg.

"Oh!" I exclaimed in surprise, placing my hands on both sides of his trim waist.

"Thank you," Ashok whispered to me.

"It's nothing," I assured him, but I knew that for him it was, in fact, everything. The way he clung to us, two foreigners whom he just met, illustrated his level of desperation. I ran my hands up and down his sides to offer whatever comfort I could, knowing this boy probably had had no one to hold him since he lost the man he loved. I could only imagine how desolate his life must have seemed until Greg and Nasir threw him a lifeline this morning.

I wished I could keep holding him, safe and secure, forever. My need to protect and comfort him was so strong; it was only reluctantly that I let him go when he began to pull away.

"I have to go now," Ashok explained as he backed up and got behind the wheel again. "If this car smells of fish in any way, Sanjiv will beat me."

Greg and I exchanged a look, hoping he was exaggerating, but suspecting he meant exactly what he said.

"You'd best hurry, then. We should have your visa by midday tomorrow. I'll send a text," Greg told him through the still open window.

"Thank you both again, so much," Ashok expressed and drove away.

"Blimey, what a sweet kid," I marveled.

"Told you," Greg agreed.

"I'll just send a text myself," I said as I pulled out my mobile and typed my usual coded message to H. A text about a weekend match was innocent enough to fool anyone who might check H.'s phone, especially since we used it so sparingly. Had I remembered to use the code on the way to the airport, that entire conversation might have gone better. But that day I needed to make sure I spoke with him to convey information. I couldn't take a chance that he'd ignore the text. This time I had a backup plan even if his response never came.

"Another pint before we go back up?" Greg suggested.

"You read my mind, Gregory," I put my arm around his shoulders as we walked back to The Pub. We barely had time to find seats when my mobile rang with H.'s distinct ring.

"Hi, H.," I answered immediately, despite being taken by surprise at the speed of his response. Then I realized that it was lunchtime on Friday back in London. Without any planning, I'd timed my communication perfectly.

"Hi, Ced," he said quietly, using a softer tone than I was used to. "I'm glad you reached out to me. I feel bad about the other day. I didn't mean to row. The kids were both crying and Ginny stomped off to the bathroom. Anyway, none of it was your fault. I didn't mean to take it out on you." Shockingly, his voice was contrite and kind.

"Thank you, Al. It means a lot to hear you say that," I admitted, closing my eyes. Some of the anger I'd been harboring since our last conversation ebbed away. It helped knowing that he felt badly about what had happened. It gave me hope for the future.

"I waited for you at the house yesterday. I know you said you were going out of the country, but I still hoped... I need to see you, Rick. I know we've had a rough time of it lately, and we need to make things right. I long to make love to you and hold you in my arms properly, all night. Will you come to the house Sunday? I'll tell Ginny I have to leave Sunday to be at the client's first thing Monday. We can spend the entire night together," he suggested hopefully.

"That sounds lovely, Al, and I wish I could say yes, but..." I hesitated.

"But?" his voice took on a harder edge, the way it always did when things weren't going his way.

"I'm still out of the country and not quite sure when I'll be back," I explained. I gratefully picked up a pint that the barman had placed in front of me, which Greg must have ordered when I wasn't paying attention, and took a large gulp. The conversation had been so nice up to this point, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to stay that way. I felt Greg's hand rest supportively on my back and looked over at him with a grateful but weary smile. I recalled what he told me the previous night about H. never being civil to me, and while I hoped against hope he'd be proven wrong today, I had a bad feeling that was not going to happen.

"Where are you anyway?" H. challenged.

"In Dubai," I replied, wiping foam from my lip and waiting for the inevitable outburst.

"Dubai! What the hell are you doing there?" H. demanded.

"I'm getting to that. That's one of the reasons I texted you just now. Do you remember me telling you about meeting Greg and Viktor's American friend, Emmett? His partner is from here. Remember?" I prompted when my statement was met with silence.

"Did you? I suppose," his indifferent response confirmed what I already knew. The day I mentioned Emmett he had only heard what he wanted to hear. The rest may as well have been white noise.

"Anyway," I continued undeterred, because whether he remembered or not, he needed to know everything now. "The Emirati guy's family found out about him being gay, and tried to kill him for it, but ended up killing another innocent guy instead. That guy was gay too, but nobody knew it. So this guy's lover is all alone here now and he can't let anybody know or see him sad or cry or anything. And we wanted to help him," I explained.

"So you flew to Dubai? You're having me on!"

"Al, he's a super sweet kid. You'll think so too when you meet him."

"Meet him? I don't want to meet him. Any anyway how would I? I'm certainly not flying to Dubai," he said indignantly.

"We actually managed to arrange for an entry visa for him. We're bringing him back with us," I explained, hoping H. could read between the lines as to whose influence was behind the arrangements. I didn't want to get Dré or his father in trouble by spelling everything out, just in case someone might have been listening.

"Just what this country needs," H. said with an exaggerated sigh.

"C'mon, H., don't be like that," I cajoled, desperately wanting him to understand why this situation was different and important.

"Why are you regaling me with this charming story?" he asked coldly. I exhaled. I knew there was no point in saying any more, and yet I felt compelled to go on.

"We were rather hoping for your help. Ashok, that's his name by the way, will need a place to stay for a while. Not too awfully long, just until he gets on his feet. You've got the big empty house with no one living in it and we thought-"

"Well you thought bloody wrong!" H. cut me off. "Do you think I want some Arab living in my house? This is what you're doing instead of being with me? Flying half way round the world to pick up some stray boy? And then you have the cheek to ask me to keep him at my house, my retreat! Won't my neighbors love some squatting camel jock next door? They'll probably think I'm setting up a terrorist cell. That's brilliant, Rick! Just what I need!"

"H.," I tried to interrupt before he worked himself up more, to no avail.

"And who's bloody 'we' anyway?" he demanded. "That house is a secret. No one knows about that house and I want to keep it that way!"

"H., everyone knows about that house," I said, resigned.

"They just better bloody not, Rick! I'm serious about this!" he was nearly shouting now. I felt the beginnings of a stress headache.

"The only person it's a secret from is Ginny," I pointed out reality.

"Rick!" he yelled, and suddenly I'd had enough.

"You know what? I am very sorry, H. I am very sorry that I bothered you with this. I am very sorry that you are not only a bigot, but an arsehole as well. And I am very sorry that I defend you every time someone points that out to me. I now quite fully realize how utterly stupid I must seem every time I do. No problem, you keep your precious retreat to yourself. I'll just keep the boy with me. He's bloody gorgeous, by the way, in case I forgot to mention that. I'd much rather he stay with me anyway, so thank you for giving me the excuse."

"Oh, that's just brilliant, Rick. You keep your bloody wog boy toy. See if I care! Just don't think I'll ever have anything to do with you again!"

I knew he meant every word of his threat, but I was beyond caring. Heedless of the consequences, I needled him further.

"Not to worry, H. No doubt one shag with this beautiful boy and I shan't even remember your name. You have a smashing day!"

"Dré'll have a lovely time of 'told you so'," Greg said casually as I terminated the call.

"No doubt he will," I agreed, picking up my pint. My mobile rang again before I could take a drink. Furious, I set down the glass and took the call. "Oh, did I forget to turn the phone off?"

"Rick!" his shout was so loud I had no doubt everyone sitting in the vicinity heard it. I simply pressed the power button and placed the mobile back in my pocket.

"There. Time to get good and royally pissed," I announced.

"Are you all right?" Greg asked with concern.

"I'm fine," I lied. This was the perfect time to keep a stiff upper lip. "I should be used to the wanker by now, right?" I made myself smile as Greg rubbed my back, undoubtedly seeing past my attempts to hide my true feelings.

"Were you serious about sleeping with Ashok?" Greg asked a while later, after we both drank more of our beers.

"You know me better than that, Greg. Of course not. Poor sweet kid has been through enough. I'd never take that kind of advantage of anyone, especially him. I just want to help him. The very last thing he needs is to get caught up in my stupid mess," I replied, taking another gulp of beer. I didn't add that were it not for the circumstances, both his and mine, I would have been sorely tempted. What hot blooded man wouldn't have been after holding the sweet, beautiful boy in his arms? His vulnerability and trusting nature made him almost irresistible. Almost. I needed to remember that our lives were too complicated already and that he needed my protection far more than he needed physical comforts.

"There you chaps are." Greg and I both turned at the sound of Dré's voice. "You missed the end of tea. We have his passport?" he asked as he climbed onto the stool beside Greg.

"Barkeep, two more," Vince requested, standing behind Dré's. Greg took out the map with the passport hidden inside and put it on the bar in front of Dré, who handed it to Vince. Our big friend pocketed the map wordlessly before sneaking his arm around Dré.

"I am going to venture a guess, from the look on Rick's face, that he talked to H." Dré commented after he took a swallow of his beer.

"Suffice it to say, Ashok will be staying with Rick," Greg confirmed.

"Please. I could have told you that. And I rather think I did." Dré said smugly. "I'd love to hear his excuse."

"The house is a secret," I parroted H.'s tone.

"A secret!" Dré exclaimed. "A secret from whom? Her Ladyship perhaps. No one else," he laughed. "Perhaps I should show up with a reporter and photographer from the Times the next time you two meet for a shag. Won't His Lordship like that!"

"The way I feel right now, there won't be a next time," I said darkly, without even mentioning H.'s threat.

"I think we all know that's not true," Dré said regretfully. I didn't bother correcting him, because he wouldn't have believed me anyway, but deep inside I knew he was wrong. I had no idea if H. would follow through with his threat or not, but I was determined to have Ashok stay with me even if it meant never seeing H. again. Whether he realized it or not, H. had just pushed me over the line. Helping Ashok became more important than cow-towing to H.'s unilateral rules.

"Well," Dré said as he looked at his watch, "I believe the embassy is closed for the day already, but I happen to have the private number of our man. I'll just ring him to let him know I'll be stopping by tomorrow morning."

"Will he be there on a Saturday?" I inquired, skeptically.

"He will if he values his position," Dré said with an air of superiority. "Father assured me I wouldn't have any trouble, and provided a few names I could drop just in case."

"It's really kind for him to do this," Greg commented. "I mean, not enough to make me vote for his party, but it was a decent thing to do."

"Please," Dré sneered. "You don't honestly believe he did this out of the goodness of his heart, do you? Elections are coming up and he needs me to play the role of dutiful son. We negotiated how many public appearances this would cost, for both me and Vince."

"It's for a good cause, Duck," Vince reminded, draining his pint and signaling the barman for another. "And it's not like having us at those events will make much of a difference."

"Not if I have anything to do with it, and I certainly will. Father thinks he is very clever, negotiating the way he did, but he doesn't even realize how well he taught me over the years. I promised we'd attend a certain number of his events, but I didn't promise those would be the only events we'd attend. For every appearance I make with him, I'll do three for his opposition," Dré's laugh was almost a gleeful cackle. "A Malfoy keeps his word, but he knows how to outfox his opponent."

"That's not going to put Ashok's visa in jeopardy, is it?" Greg asked with concern.

Dré sobered a bit and considered the question seriously. "Maybe I won't be as blatant as all that," he conceded. "But I think in the end Father will admire the way I outmaneuvered him and his pride won't let him retaliate when he's been beaten fair and square. And I'll enlist mother's help too, just in case."

"We won't push Lucius too hard, Greg," Vince assured. "Ashok will be fine."

We finished another round of beers while Dré called his contact at the embassy and arranged a meeting for the following morning. Then we separated for a few hours; Dré and Vince went back to their room, while Greg and I decided to brave the thankfully cooling temperatures to do a little sightseeing and shopping. We regrouped for dinner and then turned in early. My various naps notwithstanding I was still tired enough to fall asleep while Greg talked with Viktor and Helena.

Saturday morning we slept in and had a late breakfast before driving to the embassy. Greg, Vince and I stayed in the car while Dré went to conduct business inside. Less than thirty minutes later he was back, with all the paperwork complete.

"Everything set?" Greg inquired from next to me in the back seat.

"Of course it is," Dré scoffed. "The United Kingdom is ready to welcome Ashok Banagar with open arms. Now, when can we leave?"

"I'll just text Ashok," Greg said even as he was typing his message. We all watched him expectantly, but minutes passed by without a response.

"He may be working and can't check his phone," I suggested.

"Brilliant!" Dré's voice dripped with sarcasm. "So what do we do now?"

"Why don't we go back to the hotel and pack, so we're ready to go whenever he is? While we're there, Rick can also explore all our departure options and get Ashok an open ticket," Greg shared his plan.

"That will work," Dré conceded grudgingly as Vince started the car.

We packed first and then regrouped in the lounge. I brought my laptop and filled everyone in on the three available British Airways flights back to London. I booked Ashok's ticket and was shutting down when Greg finally received a response to his text. We could tell by his grimace that the news wasn't good, even before he shared it with us.

"What rotten luck. Apparently Nasir's father is hosting an important gathering this evening and everyone is getting ready, so Ashok has no excuse to leave the compound. He said he will text when he can, but he may not be able to meet us today."

"So what? We just sit here and wait?" Dré asked.

"We could drive over to the Burj al Khalifa. There's an observation deck at the top and the Dubai Mall is right there," I suggested

"That's not the worst idea you've ever had," Dré admitted. "Mother's birthday is coming up and I need to get her something. Might as well pick up something here."

"Excellent," Greg nodded. "It would be a shame to come all the way to Dubai and not visit the tallest building in the world."

We spent most of our day and evening at Burj al Khalifa and exploring the mall. Dré found a present for his mother and Greg picked up souvenirs for Viktor and Helena. Several times I spotted things that would have been perfect for H., before I remembered that we were fighting and that he would probably resent me for getting him anything that he might have to explain to Ginny or other people in his life. I amused myself instead by picking up some clothes for Ashok, guessing he'd appreciate my effort far more than H. ever would.

We considered eating dinner at the restaurant near the top of the skyscraper, until Greg pointed out that we might have to finish our meal in a hurry if Ashok somehow managed to get away before the last flight for London left Dubai. None of us were particularly disappointed, since the restaurants in the hotel were more than adequate. Still, dinner came and went with no word from the boy, and we resigned ourselves to spending another night in Dubai. We were all taking a relaxing evening stroll along the quay in front our hotel when Greg's phone finally rang.

"Hi, Ashok," Greg answered and listened. "Please, call me Greg and don't be sorry, mate. Do you know when you can get out? Can you get out tonight?"

Vince, Dré and I looked at each other anxiously, trying not to get too excited.

"Can't you open it?" we heard Greg ask. Dré arched his brow in question. "Ashok will have to cut the power to the gate so it can be quietly rolled, but he's not strong enough," Greg explained

"I am," Vince said confidently.

"Ashok, we will get the gate open. How long?" Greg waited for the boy's response and then turned to direct us.

"Rick, get upstairs and get us booked on the flight tonight. Then go with Vince to pick him up. Dré, you and I will get us checked out. We'll take the other car, and the luggage, and meet you at the airport."

"Done," I confirmed and headed back to the hotel. The others caught up with me as I waited impatiently for the elevator.

"I'll get the car and will wait outside for you," Vince said. I nodded and piled into the elevator with Greg and Dré.

"We have plenty of time to catch the last flight," I said, checking my watch, "as long as all goes according to plan."

"It sounds like the most difficult part will be getting him out of that compound. Ashok was worried that if he opened the gate electronically someone in the house might wake up and try to stop him, but even if someone heard or saw him trying to get out, what's the worst that could happen? He's a servant, not a slave. He should be allowed to leave when he wants," Greg opined.

"It works that way back home, sure," Dré pointed out, "but here people kill men for being gay. I'm not sure we want to educate them about the differences between servitude and slavery."

"Let's hope Vince really can get that gate opened quietly, then, and that we all make it to the airport in time for check in."

We arrived on our floor and walked quickly to our rooms. I powered up my computer and reserved our seats, then immediately shut down and slipped the computer into my packed carry-on bag.

"See you at the airport," I said to Greg, heading for the door.

"Wait a moment," Greg said and dug his mobile out of his pocket. "Take this. Ashok has this number and it'd be better if you had this just in case he calls or texts."

"Right, you take mine then," I fished out my mobile and traded with him.

"Good luck, Rick," he said in a way of a farewell.

"Won't need it. We've a sound plan. See you soon."

Vince was waiting in front of the hotel with the car running. As soon as I closed the door he pulled away from the hotel and onto the main road. By now we were familiar enough with the directions to drive confidently even in the dark.

"I can't believe we actually managed to pull this off, and so quickly," I commented to Vince after a few minutes of driving in silence. "I mean, four days ago we were drinking at Molly's, just considering the idea."

"When the cause is right and you have the money and the right connections, it's easy to act quickly," Vince said dryly.

"True enough. We wouldn't be able to do any of this without Nasir's money and Dré's father. Still, we all pulled together too. Just like old times," I pointed out as I reached over and patted his meaty thigh, once again reminded of the time back in school when it was just the four of us in a tightly knit group.

"Old times, huh? Were you and Greg getting nostalgic in your room?" Vince's grin was almost a leer.

"I don't want to wind up a eunuch, thank you very much," I said with a laugh. "Besides, Greg is well over his obsession with me even if I wanted to live life on the edge. I wasn't so much talking about that. This trip just reminds me of back in school, when it was the four of us against the world, remember?"

"Before H. came along and everything changed?" Vince understood.

"I really fucked that up, didn't I?" I voiced my rhetorical question, leaning my head back against the head rest. "If I knew then what I know now..."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, mate. Dré and I thought H. was a decent guy at first. He was a little skittish, maybe, always walking the line between our group and Weasley and that lot, but we were all skittish back then, and he'd met them first. At least back then he wasn't trying to lord over anyone."

I couldn't help chuckling darkly at Vince's undoubtedly intentional pun.

"He had just learned that he was Lord Potter and was only beginning to figure out what that meant. His aunt and uncle didn't tell him anything until his godfather was released from prison and insisted that they send H. to school with us. I'm sure if Sirius Black hadn't been around, somehow H.'s pig of an uncle would have managed to find a way to swindle H. out of everything he inherited."

"Couldn't swindle him out of the title," Vince pointed out.

"No, but that would have done H. no good if he never knew he had it, or if all the money and assets attached to it were gone."

"Surely someone would have told him sooner or later."

"Probably, but maybe not in time. In any event, it was a good thing Sirius took over when he did."

"Are you sure about that, Rick?" Vince turned to me with one raised brow.

"What do you mean?" I was confused. I'd only met H.'s godfather once before he died, when he was visiting H. at school. He seemed a bit sour and brooding, always going on about government conspiracy theories, but all in all not a bad sort. He did, after all, leave H. the Grimmauld house and the entirety of his estate. I knew H. would have preferred to have his godfather alive, but it was a decent legacy to have. Why wouldn't anyone consider it a good thing that Sirius came along and rescued H. from his abusive relatives?

"Well, if Sirius hadn't come along H. would never have been in school with us, would he? You never would have met. Looking back, wouldn't that have been better?"

I considered Vince's suggestion for a moment. My life would have been so different if I'd never met H. Greg and I may just have lasted, and if not, I might have made a go of it with Jasper, or even Kinkaid. Yet I would not have wanted my happiness to come at the price of the boy I fell in love with having to stay with his awful family a minute longer than he did.

"It would have been better for me, but not for him, so no," I shook my head. "If I could have changed anything, maybe it would have been the school his family had attended, so that when Sirius plucked him away from his aunt and uncle, he would have gone to study elsewhere."

"That would have done it too," Vince agreed, nodding.

"So what happens now?" he asked quietly a few minutes later.

"What do you mean?"

"His lordship can't be pleased about your new flat mate."

"I don't give a fuck if he's pleased or not," I replied heatedly. "Just like he never gave a fuck if I was pleased with his living arrangements."

"I'm not saying you don't have the right to be angry with him, or that you're making a mistake having the boy stay with you," Vince said quietly, the way he usually did when he was speaking his wisdom. "Only that you need to remember everything he's been through and take care you don't cause him more harm getting caught between you and H."

"There's nothing between me and H. anymore," I informed him. "I think you'll understand why I didn't mention it in front of Dré, but when I last spoke with H., he made the consequences of Ashok staying with me very clear. He won't want anything to do with me when we get back, and I'm fine with that. Makes it that much easier for me to do the right thing and stop seeing him, once and for all."

Vince glanced at me dubiously. "All the same."

"The turn off is coming up," I tried to change the subject when I noticed the mosque up ahead.

"Dré didn't offer, because he values our privacy at home, but we do have a spare room and Ashok is welcome to stay with us if either you or he need him to," Vince spoke as if he hadn't heard me. "Though for what it's worth, I think you were right when you said things have to change, and I would be glad to know you ended it with H. for good. You know we'll all support you in that," he took his large hand off the steering wheel and it was his turn to give my thigh a friendly pat.

When we reached the mosque, he turned the car onto the side street and drove slowly. He executed a quick three point turn after we drove past the Al Qasimi compound, and coasted to a stop.

"We should probably wait outside, somewhere near the gate," he suggested, turning off the engine. I nodded, and we both exited the car, taking care to be as quiet as possible when closing the doors behind us. We approached along the stone wall until we were almost at the gate, well hidden by the night's shadows.

"Ashok?" I whispered and waited. I called him again, a little louder, but there was still no response.

"We got here a little early. Might as well settle in and wait," Vince said, shifting his feet until he was in a comfortable crouch, resting his back against the wall. "At least we finished dinner," he pointed out and I had to smile. Food was never far from my friend's mind.

It was about ten minutes later that we heard someone approach the wall on the other side. "Mr. Rick?" My whispered name confirmed that the new arrival was the right man.

"Yeah, Ashok, it's me," I answered as Vince and I stood and approached the gate. I thought I should wait until later to correct his unnecessary formality. "Is the power cut?"

"Yes, it is," the boy confirmed.

"This is Vince. He'll take care of this gate," I explained, allowing Vince to get in front of me.

"Right. Now stand back, you lot," Vince instructed as he braced his back on the wall and used the gate bars as a foothold. With only a slight strain, Vince used his muscular thighs to push at the gate until the slim boy was able to slip out.

"Wow," Ashok said with awe.

"I know. Strong as an ox, our Vince. Come on," I put my arm around the boy's shoulders and guided him to the car. "Is this all your stuff?" I asked, noting the backpack he wore that seemed to have hardly anything in it.

"It is everything that was mine. This backpack belonged to Pankaj, but the others left it for me after they picked through his things," Ashok's voice was filled with pain as he turned his head in an attempt to see the pack. I bristled with outrage at the vultures who would appropriate a dead man's possessions. Without him having to say it, I knew that backpack was now the most important thing Ashok owned.

"I am sorry, I wish I had more to bring with me," he continued contritely. "I do not have much, but it is enough for me," he assured.

"Never you mind about that, Ashok," I told him, opening the door to the back seat. "Anything else you need we can get for you in London. And I picked up a few things for you when we were shopping earlier today."

"You did?" He tilted his head up at me. The car dome light provided barely enough illumination for me to see his wide, shocked eyes.

"I did. I think I guessed right at the size, but we'll deal with that later. Get in the car now. We have to get to the airport."

Ashok quickly scrambled into the back seat. I closed the door behind him and got into the front passenger seat. Vince had the car ready to go as soon as I closed my door. I shifted in my seat to look back at Ashok, only to find him gazing out the window at the gate and wall of the compound. As we drove past, his head and body rotated to the back so that he could keep watching. He did not look forward until we were back on Sheikh Zayed, the road that would take us directly to the airport.

"I guess I am nervous," the boy gave an explanation for what was already obvious from his body language. I gave him a warm smile, hoping it would help him feel better and safer.

"Quite alright, Ashok. It's to be expected. We're on our way and we'll be in London very soon," I assured him. He moved forward in the seat and took off his backpack, then sank back into the leather comfort. He didn't seem like talking, so I turned to face forward and we made the rest of the fairly short trip in silence.

At the airport, we followed the direction to car rental drop off. Vince placed the keys in the after-hours box before offering his hand to our new friend.

"Nice to meet you properly, Ashok. I'm Vince."

Instead of taking his hand, Ashok threw his arms around Vince's neck, as he had done with me and Greg the previous day. I found his genuine innocence absolutely disarming and most endearing.

"Now what's that for, little mate?" Vince, unaccustomed to Ashok's spontaneous displays of gratitude, sounded confused.

"For freeing me from my prison," Ashok explained as he continued to hold onto the man who enabled his escape.

"Glad I could help," Vince hugged him back tightly, but released him quickly. Ashok adjusted his backpack and we all walked in the direction of the terminal, where Greg and Dré were waiting by the ticket counter with our carry-on bags. Ashok hurried over to Greg and bestowed one of his hugs on my best friend. I watched as I walked up, my eyes drawn to the bit of dark skin I could see between the bottom of his shirt and the top of the low-rise, skinny jeans that hugged his inviting little bubble butt. If it had been me hugging him, I had no doubt my hands would have strayed under that shirt, to rest directly on his waist. I shocked myself by imagining how warm and smooth that skin would feel, and even more by wanting to do more than imagine. This was not to be, however, as just then Greg introduced Dré, who became the next recipient of Ashok's hugs.

"Thank you. I don't know how I can ever thank you all," Ashok said as he stretched to reach our tall and thin friend's neck.

"Happy to be of assistance," Dré patted Ashok's back lightly, almost politely.

"You three have to check in," Greg said as he started passing out tickets to me, Vince and Ashok, who also received back his passport. I felt a twinge of disappointment that I was apparently going to be left out of the hug session, but I decided to make the best of it by wrapping my arm around his shoulders again.

"C'mon, Ashok," I said as we walked over to the Club World counter, Vince right behind us. We gave our tickets and passports to the woman behind the counter and waited for her to print our boarding passes. Looking around at my friends' faces as we rejoined Greg and Dré, I could tell we were all feeling buzzed at what we had managed to accomplish. For once, it didn't bother me at all as Dré led us to security and spouted off about the Terraces Lounge, especially when Ashok asked me what the lounge was and Dré actually allowed me to answer without interruption. I liked that the kid looked to me as a voice of authority and I looked forward to being his mentor and protector as he became acclimatized to his new home.

I was definitely on an adrenaline-fueled rush and nothing was going to put an end to my good mood, not even Greg handing me back my mobile and informing me that I had over fifteen voice mails and texts. I had no doubt that every single one was from H., and deleted them all without a second thought. I'd heard all his threats already and had time to come to terms with them. It wasn't that I had somehow become desensitized to the idea of giving him up forever, because that emptiness I felt inside whenever I thought of my life without him in it was definitely there, but this time I had a distraction. This time there was someone else who needed me to stay strong and keep it together, someone who would rely on me more than anyone else ever had, and my determination to be there for Ashok overpowered my typical self-pity and despair.

We checked in at the Terraces lounge and found a tall table to sit around. Vince left to get drinks for himself and Dré, while I polled Greg and Ashok for their preferences.

"Do they have mineral water, or maybe a cola?" Ashok asked timidly.

"You don't want a beer or maybe a glass of wine?"

"Oh, I do not drink alcohol," he admitted, seeming embarrassed. "It was forbidden in the household. I could try something. What are you having, Mr. Rick?"

"Please, Ashok, it's just Rick, all right? We're friends, equals. You calling any of us mister will sound odd in England," I rebuked gently. He looked entirely too horrified at his innocent mistake, and a part of me wished I hadn't corrected him, but then I also wanted him to get used to being informal with us.

"I am sorry, Mist...I mean to say Rick. I will try to do better," he promised.

"Good," I put my hand on his back and gave him a warm smile. "And to answer your question, I'm going to have a beer," I told him after the slightest hesitation. I hadn't considered that he may never have had alcohol before, and I wasn't sure if this was the best time for him to start drinking.

"Get him a glass of Riesling," Dré suggested.

"Good idea, Dré!" I was relieved at his suggestion. "I tell you what. I'll bring you a beer and a glass of Riesling if they have it, and you drink what you like," I told Ashok, rubbing his shoulder.

"Can I come with you?" Ashok asked.

"Of course you can," I agreed with a smile and watched as he slid off the stool eagerly.

"Bring me a beer too, boys," Greg requested behind us.

Ashok followed me closely, looking around the lounge, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"There is a hot food bar over there," I pointed. "We all had dinner, but we can get something for you if you're hungry."

"No, thank you," Ashok shook his head. "I ate earlier with the other servants."

The boy was thin, but Dré was even thinner, so I wasn't too worried about Ashok being underfed. We walked over to the wine bar instead where I inspected the offerings. Fortunately, a Riesling was available. I poured a glass of wine and popped a cap on a bottle of beer, setting both in front of Ashok.

"Try and see which of these you like. If neither appeals to you, we'll get you a cola."

Ashok picked up the bottle and sniffed at the opening, crinkling his nose. He put the opening to his lips and tilted the bottle slowly until the smallest sip poured into his mouth. He swallowed, crinkling his nose again.

"Pankaj would smuggle in a bottle of Indian beer sometimes and let me taste a little, but I did not care for it," he explained. "This tastes better, but I think I do not care for beer."

"Wait until you have proper beer in London. This stuff is acceptable, but nothing beats a pint at a pub. In the meantime, try this," I pointed to the wine glass, which he picked up gingerly, again sniffing the contents. This time, his nose didn't wrinkle and he actually smiled.

"Nice bouquet?" I asked, grinning. He looked at me, puzzled. "That's what the scent of wine is called, the bouquet."

Ashok thought about this for a few seconds, frowning a little. "Like flowers?" he finally asked. "Is that not the word for flowers?"

"Very good," I nodded with approval. "The same word is used for both. Maybe it's because flowers and wine both smell good?" I theorized.

"This does smell good," Ashok agreed and tilted the glass to try some. "It tastes good!" he exclaimed in surprise. I grinned back at him.

"This type of wine is on the sweet side, perfect for a first-time drinker. So we don't need cola, then?"

"No, thank you," Ashok said, taking another small sip. I pulled out a bottle of beer for Greg and popped the cap off.

"Could I take that to Mister Greg, please?" Ashok asked, his eyes pleading. Seeing how intent he was, I saw no reason to refuse, though I reminded him again to drop the Mister. He took Greg's bottle and his own wine glass and started walking back to the table. I took my own beer and grabbed a bottle of Evian for Ashok before I followed him, thinking it wouldn't be a bad idea to dilute the wine in his system. I didn't want his first experience with wine to go to his head, potentially spoiling the experience for him in the future.

"Well, men, here's to a job well and quickly done, and to a safe return home with our new friend, Ashok," Greg toasted when we joined the others with our drinks.

"Cheers!" Vince added, clinking his wine glass first against Dré's glass, and then against the rest of our bottles and glasses. We all did the same and Ashok followed our lead, sipping his wine slowly.

"I'm glad to have felt the last of this heat," Dré pronounced. "London will feel like winter in comparison."

"Is it very cold there?" Ashok asked anxiously.

"Dré's exaggerating," I replied, reaching over to pat his thigh. "It's summer in London now, and quite warm. Just nowhere near as warm as here."

Ashok breathed a sigh of relief. "I do not have cold weather clothes," he said.

"You speak English so well," Greg commented. "Did you learn while working for Nasir's family?"

"No, I learned in India. I learned the basics in the elementary school in Koppa, where my family is from. But in the state schools teachers mostly use Kannada and do not know English very well."

"Kannada?" I asked, confused.

"The language of Karnatak, the province I am form, is Kannada," he explained. "That is my native tongue. I speak Kannada first, English second. When I started working, I learned Arabic, but I only speak it. I do not read and write very well."

"You said your school was not good for learning English, yet you speak so fluently," Greg noted.

"There was a place in our town run by an English charity. They had computers and telephones and taught people how to use them. They also taught people how to speak and read and write in English. Mostly they taught older people, so they could work in the big cities, to take calls for foreign companies, but one lady had a class for children. She was very kind. She gave us sweets when we mastered our lessons."

"She taught you well. You must have been practicing, though, to remember so much," I guessed.

"I do not speak to many people, but the family had newspapers and magazines in English and when they threw them out, I would sometimes take and read them. Pankaj liked when I read to him in English, though he did not understand much. He said he liked the sound of my voice," Ashok's eyes filled with sadness.

"You do have a very nice voice," Dré complimented, "and your English is excellent. It will serve you well when we get to London." I had to work hard not to stare at Dré, who was being far kinder to the boy than I had ever seen him with anyone, apart from Vince. I glanced at Greg instead, arching my brow in question. He gave me a small shrug in response.

"Is London very large? I have seen beautiful photographs of many buildings, and read about even more."

"London is splendid," Dré said with an air of unquestionable authority. "It has everything you could ever want. As Samuel Johnson said, 'When a man is tired of London-"

"He is tired of life," Vince, Greg and I helped Dré complete the familiar quote in unison, then chuckled and clinked glasses again, including Ashok in our toast.

"I have the next week off, so I'll have time to show you around," I assured the boy with a smile, which he shyly returned.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to see?" Greg asked. Ashok considered the question for a moment, and then it was as if Greg had turned on a tap. A list of sights poured from the excited boy's lips, making it clear that he knew quite a lot about London already. Greg laughed and asked him to slow down, and then we all began talking about the things he wanted to see and answering his many questions. I participated in the discussion, but not as much as the others, more interested in observing my soon to be new flat mate. There was something about him that kept me absolutely riveted. I didn't know if it was the innocence, the enthusiasm, the vulnerability or the underlying sorrow, only that somehow he had managed to ignite a fiercely protective instinct inside me that I never even knew was there. I shocked myself by how much I was willing to sacrifice to ensure that he felt safe and happy in his new circumstances. In just over twenty four hours, he had turned from an abstract concept to a personal quest. I wanted to do what I needed to earn those shy, genuine smiles and to wipe away the sadness that never quite left his eyes.

We talked until an announcement was made that our flight was ready for boarding, when Dré led our little procession to the gate and up the jet bridge onto the plane. When I was booking our seats earlier, on impulse I assigned Ashok to sit next to me, leaving Greg alone in the outer forward facing row. I would have switched with him if he'd been put out, but he didn't seem to mind. I guessed that after the way I teased him during our flight out, he may even have been glad not to have to deal with me on our return. Without me to entertain, I knew he'd probably sleep for near the entire flight, which would leave him better rested when he was reunited with Helena back home.

Once we were aboard, Ashok was quite adorable in his astonishment at the Club World accommodations, though given his only previous flying experience had been on Air India, I could well understand it. He marveled at our spacious seats and large private video screens, and especially at the frosted privacy screen walls, which gave us privacy from the other passengers. I'd never been to India, but I'd seen enough Indian trains and buses on television to know that personal space on public transport was not exactly a priority. If Club World had been impressive for me and Greg, I could see how it seemed like the epitome of luxury to Ashok, an impression which was only reinforced when the flight attendant poked her head into our semi-private cabin within the cabin and offered us complimentary glasses of champagne.

"What is this?" he asked, watching the bubbling liquid.

"Sparkling wine. It's traditional to make a toast. Here's to a new beginning for a very sweet guy," I toasted with a smile, gently clinking my glass against his.

"May I make a toast too?"

"Of course you may."

"To Mr. Nasir, and his friends, the kindest and most generous men ever," he said seriously.

"I don't know about that, but all right." I touched my glass to his again and we both drank.

"Oh!" Ashok exclaimed, rubbing his nose. "This is fun!" he announced, taking another sip. The airplane moved and the captain's voice filled the cabin with the usual pre-take-off announcements. I tuned him out, but I noticed Ashok was listening intently. I showed him how to pull out his monitor to watch the safety video, which he focused on with equal intensity. When the video was over, I pushed our monitors back into their storage position as he looked around.

"We are facing backward," he observed, clearly confused.

"That we are," I agreed. "Is that okay? Greg has a forward facing seat and I'm sure he would not mind switching with you, but then you would have to sit alone," I outlined his options, surprising myself once again by actively hoping he would choose to remain in the seat next to me.

"No, please, I do not want to sit alone," he said in a worried, slightly panicky voice. I was glad he was staying, but felt a vague sense of disappointment that it was fear of being alone that kept him next to me, rather than the desire for my company. I quickly chided myself, reminding myself that there was absolutely no reason why he should prefer my company to that of any of my other friends, and even less reason for me to be disappointed by his logic.

"Okay, then. I think you'll find you get used to facing backward quite quickly. We flew here backward and now we're going back the same way, to your new home."

"Home," he repeated wistfully, almost as if he was trying to capture an understanding of the concept.

"I know this must be a little scary for you, leaving with four strangers for a faraway new country where you don't know anyone, but I promise you will be all right and we all hope you will soon learn to love it," I tried to reassure him.

"What is it like living in London?" he asked.

"Well, it's different than anything you're used to, I expect. Hard to say really. You'll just have to experience it for yourself," I became tongue tied. After all, what could I tell him about what his life in London would be like, when we haven't quite figured it out ourselves yet?

"I would be afraid to get lost by myself," Ashok replied, taking my response literally.

"Don't worry, we won't turn you out by yourself. One of us will always be with you until you're comfortable on your own. You'll be living in my flat with me, at least at first, so you'll probably see more of me than any of the others," I explained, realizing we hadn't even discussed his living arrangements with him yet.

"I would like that, Mr. Ric...," he paused when I gave him a warning look, "I mean Rick," he hastily corrected and I rewarded him with another warm smile.

I would have told him more about the living arrangements, but just then our flight attendant distracted us by returning to collect our champagne glasses before take-off.

"Can we have some more of that? I like champagne," Ashok announced with such genuine delight it was impossible for me not to keep grinning, especially when I recognized that this was the first time he had actually felt comfortable enough to state his own preference and make a request.

"After we take off we can, certainly," I confirmed. I stopped talking when I saw that the boy was once again listening intently to the captain's announcement about take-off. Soon after the announcement we felt the engines rev up as the plane sped down the runway and lifted into the air. Ashok and I continued to make small talk, with him asking questions about all the gay couples he now knew, which I tried my best to answer. He took me off guard, however, when he asked, "What about you? Do you have someone?"

I took a deep breath and thought long about my answer.

"I am sorry. I do not mean to pry," Ashok said, seeing my distress. "It is not my business."

"You have nothing to apologize for. It's a perfectly legitimate question. It's just that my life is a bit complicated, and the truth is right now I'm not sure how to answer," I admitted painfully.

"You do not have to explain," he said quickly.

"I know, but I want to. Everyone else knows the situation, and you're one of us now, so you should too. There is a man in my life. We met when we were school boys and were together for years, but it was never a smooth relationship. We often rowed and broke up, then got back together. The last time we were apart, he married and had children. He was and still is trying to live up to what others expected of him. After a while, though, even that wasn't enough to keep us apart, so for the past few years we have been seeing each other in secret," I explained, a weak smile covering the shame of my admission.

"Oh," Ashok took a moment to digest my explanation. "I thought Mr. Nasir said men like us could be open in your country."

"We can, for the most part. Ours is an open society. Dré, Vince, Greg and I are all open about who we are. It's just, sometimes there are other factors, personal ones. Like I said, it's complicated," I repeated.

"I know it is not this way in the west or in India, but in the Emirates a man can have more than one wife. I have seen this. Sometimes the first wife is the wife for..." Ashok struggled for words. "The first wife is selected by others, for reasons important to them, but the second wife can be chosen by the husband for love. She is not as important to others, but more important to him," he spoke earnestly, willing me with his big brown eyes to understand his meaning. I couldn't help but understand, and my eyes welled up with tears at his instant compassion.

"You're right, that is not our way, but I know what you are trying to say. Thank you for that, Ashok. I think maybe I was in that position similar to that of the second wife, the one chosen for love, but of course I bet in the Emirates a man does not hide the second wife from others. The secrecy is difficult, sometimes too difficult. He and I have been rowing about it lately and, to be honest, I do not know where we stand right now. He may not want me when we return to London, and that may be for the best, for both of us."

"Why would he not want you?" Ashok was confused. "Is it because you came to get me? Is it because I will be living with you? I do not want to be a burden and cause trouble!" He became visibly distressed.

"No, please don't think that or blame yourself. Our problems were around long before we even knew you existed. We simply may have reached a point where being together is more painful than being apart," I felt a tear slide from my eye and wiped at it angrily. Ashok squeezed my hand in support, looking at me with sad eyes.

"It is hard, keeping love secret," he said softly, which instantly sobered me up. After all, though he may not have had to share his lover, they too could not be open with their feelings for each other. Now his partner was gone and mine could well be gone too, though obviously in not nearly as traumatic a manner as his. I didn't know what to say to comfort him, so I simply squeezed his hand back. Our eyes locked in painful communal understanding.

I don't know how long we would have sat there in silence, had it not been for the good timing of our flight attendant, who appeared again with an offer of more sparkling wine. An offer which we both gratefully accepted.

"You have goose flesh!" I noticed and rubbed his arms as she left to fetch us two glasses

"It is on the chilly side in here," Ashok said with a shiver and crossed his arms to rub his exposed skin. "This is so nice. I did not want to complain."

"We'll soon put that right," I said, then showed him how to pull out the control pad stored in the side of his seat and how to use it to adjust the temperature and air flow. "That's just for now," I assured him, knowing that the personal controls would only make a slight difference. "We'll get you a blanket too."

"Here we are, gentlemen," the flight attendant, Annie, returned with two freshly filled flutes, which she placed on the small table between our seats. "And here are your breakfast menus. We'll serve breakfast about an hour before we land. Anything from the kitchen now?"

"Are you hungry, Ashok?" I inquired.

"I am not, thank you," he shook his head in protest, reaching for his flute.

"What we would like is our pillows and duvets, please," I told Annie, who quickly left to retrieve them for us. While she was gone I explained that our seats converted into flat beds and demonstrated how he could adjust his seat with the controls, something Ashok found absolutely astounding.

The flight attendant returned promptly with a pillow and blanket for each of us.

"Thank you, Annie," I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood up to take the bedding from her. I set my quilted blanket and pillow on my seat and handed Ashok his pillow, giving him time to arrange it until he was comfortable. "Now, unbuckle your seatbelt for a moment and let's just get this wrapped round you nice and snug," I said as I tucked the blanket around him to cover him up to his shoulders, then re-buckled the belt. "There! This way if you happen to fall asleep and the captain turns on the fasten seatbelts sign, you'll be all set and Annie won't have to wake you," I explained, happy with my efforts. I took great satisfaction in taking care of his needs.

"You have all been so very kind to me. You and Mis... you and Greg especially," Ashok watched me from his cocoon.

"I can't imagine anyone not being kind to you," I told him warmly. I moved my bedding to the side as I sat down. I picked up his glass and held it, giving him time to withdraw one if his arms from beneath the blanket so he could hold onto it himself, before I took my own glass and we both took a sip of my sparkling wine.

"Pankaj was kind to me," Ashok said, sadness creeping back into his voice. "I miss him very much."

"I imagine. He was a good guy, your Pankaj?" I asked. I knew Ashok told Greg all about Pankaj the day before, when they sat for over an hour alone in the Rolls, chatting. I was feeling a little left out, and wanted to hear more about Ashok's partner directly from the boy.

"He was a very sweet and loving man. He took care of me from the day I arrived. I was only fourteen, but my family was too poor for me to stay at home. I had too many younger brothers and sisters, so I had to work. A man my father knew told him about this job, a good job, with food and a place to stay and money to send home. It was hard leaving my brothers and sisters and all my friends. I was very scared, but then Pankaj picked me up from the airport and he made things better.

"Pankaj had been working for Sheikh Al Qasimi for years and he taught me everything: how to serve the family; what to do to avoid getting in trouble; how to speak Arabic. In the beginning, when I didn't know anything, I sometimes made Sanjiv so angry. He often said what a mistake it was to hire me, and threatened to send me back home to my family," Ashok shuddered at the thought. "Pankaj would calm him, or he would help me, doing extra work so that I would not get in trouble. There were many days when the only kind words I heard were at night, when Pankaj and I were alone in our room. It was very nice to have a man care for me. It was the first time anyone ever cared for me that much.

"Later, when I was older, Pankaj told me he loved me and I already knew I loved him too. He was the only one I have ever been with. But of course we had to be careful so no one guessed we were together. If anyone had found out, they would have sent both of us away."

"That sounds like a difficult life," I observed.

"It was sometimes, but we had each other and we were happy together. Now the worst time for me is at night," he confessed. "Pankaj used to hold me from behind, or he would lie on his back and I would lay my head on his chest or shoulder. He really liked that. I did too. When we would go to bed, he would kiss the top of my feet and then rub them and my calves if they hurt, if I was on my feet all day. Pankaj was most caring. He gave me the best years of my life."

Ashok carefully placed the still mostly full flute back on the small table between our seats. I frowned. I couldn't fail to notice Ashok's reaction to the idea of being sent back to his family, and it saddened me that he must not have had a happy childhood. He still looked so young. Suddenly, I had to know.

"How old are you, Ashok?"

"Twenty, now."

There was something in the way he said it that made me press further.

"Now? When is your birthday?"

"Today," he answered quietly.

"Today! It's your birthday today?" I confirmed, making sure that I understood correctly.

"Pankaj was going to take me to the beach today." He closed his eyes, but it wasn't enough to hide his great sadness.

"I'm sure he would have loved to spend the day with you. I'm so sorry that he was taken from you so tragically, Ashok. No doubt, wherever he is, he considers the years he had with you as the best of his life. Any man would," I expressed, rubbing his arm in an attempt to comfort him.

"He had told me this, when he was still alive. He had worked for the Al Qasimi family for many years, but the other men who served the family before I came along were not like us, so he had been alone. We were so happy to have found each other." His tears fell silently. He turned his head and lifted his hand to wipe them away.

"I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you, and I understand you need time to come to terms with his loss. I also know this is hard for you to imagine now, but you are so very young, Ashok. You really do have your whole life ahead of you. I know there's another man out there who will win your heart and love and cherish you, just as you deserve to be," I said soothingly.

"I don't want anyone else," he protested.

"I know, Ashok. I know," I kept rubbing his arm, remembering that I said virtually the same thing to Greg during our late night talk about H. The circumstances and reasons were certainly different, but Ashok and I both had in common the inability to be with the men we loved. There was only one difference, and I had to point it out. "But I think, if he could, Pankaj would encourage you to try and find happiness in life, in your new home. I think he would want that for you."

Ashok sniffed. "I hope so. It felt bad to leave the place where we had been so happy, but he's gone and it just hurt so much to be there without him. The man hired to replace Pankaj was due to arrive this morning. It would have been so hard to share a room with him, to see him sleeping in Pankaj's bed." He paused for a moment as if to regroup before he continued, "I am sorry. I do not mean to sound sad and ungrateful. I cannot thank you enough for taking me away from there. I am sure I will be much happier in London."

"Good! Focus on that for now," I encouraged. "I'm confident in time everything else will fall into place. And happy birthday!"

I leaned into his seat, placing a brief kiss on his cheek.

He smiled shyly and lifted his hand to the spot where my lips had just been. "Thank you! I am glad to be here with you on my birthday. Will you help me find a job and learn the city and things, Rick? I do not want to be alone," he looked up at me with such trust and hope, my heart clenched in my chest and I knew I could refuse him nothing, especially such a simple request.

"Of course I will. We all will. Don't you worry about that," I assured.

"I can be your friend? All of you?"

"Just you try and get rid of us!" I reached down to mess with his hair, unprepared for how good the thick, long strands would feel between my fingers. On a spur of the moment, I decided to sit next to him, on the edge of his seat. Ashok immediately moved over to give me more room, and I took a little bit more space.

"I tell you what," I deliberately leaned over him and spoke in a stage whisper. "I'm going to let you in on the secret of our group. Ready? Here it is: You may have noticed, Dré has a strong personality, but Greg's guy, Viktor, is even stronger. If there were a leader in this group, I would have to say it was him."

I saw Ashok was riveted, his eyes wide and his full lips slightly parted. He was so beautiful; I found it hard to stay focused on my story.

"It was actually Viktor's idea that we come and get you," I said when I finally remembered my train of thought.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Really. And I know him well enough to know that he is going to love you. So don't you worry, Ashok. You're already in."

My proximity to him and the thoughts it inspired were starting to make me uncomfortable, so I got up and returned to my seat. Ashok took the opportunity to reach for his flute and take another drink of the sparkling wine. He smiled with enjoyment, even though by now most of the bubbles were gone.

I picked up my flute as well and drank, moistening my suddenly too dry lips and throat. He asked more questions about Viktor, and got very excited at the prospect of seeing Viktor play in a professional football match. We finished the champagne as we talked, until Ashok admitted that he was ready to go to sleep. I helped him convert his seat into a bed and showed him the complimentary toiletries, socks, sleep mask and ear plugs. He declined the sleep mask and ear plugs, but agreed when I recommended that he put on the socks just in case his blanket slipped off while he was sleeping.

"Rest easy, Ashok. As easy as you can. You're in good hands. We've got you now," I assured him and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Before I could straighten up to move back to my seat, he reached up to wrap his arms around my neck and kissed my cheek, thanking me once again.

"Get some sleep now. No doubt it'll be a long day tomorrow, and we'll have to deal with the time change," I told him when he released me. A ghost of sensation of his skin against mine lingered even as I reached over to turn off his light. I turned my own seat into a bed, donned my airline socks and lay down, covering myself with the blanket.

"Rick?" the question was so quiet I barely heard it over the hiss of the airplane's climate control system.

"Yes, Ashok?"

"May I hold your hand?" he requested timidly.

"Of course you may," I answered immediately, turning off my light. I reached for his hand, so much slighter than mine, and waited until I heard his breathing even out before I finally allowed myself to fall asleep.