The Knife That Twists Within

The Knife That Twists Within Part 9

His flat greeted him with its familiar disorder. He put down his suitcase upon his small couch which was also his bed and opened the windows. The sound of a loud radio which echoed over the tiny yard, pierced his ears and brought him back to the realization that this had been a very short trip into nonchalance and happiness.

He sat upon the couch and let his head drop. The walls around him seemed bare and cold because they were empty of all his paintings and with a little stab of loss he remembered the mask Marcus had bought for him and which still hung in Marcus' bedroom. He would had given everything to have Marcus come through the door right now, to embrace him, to kiss him, to undress him, to comfort him and a dry sob escaped his throat. Annoyed he wiped his eyes. But why make such a tragedy out of it? Marcus has to work to earn his money, which he also spends on you, you dunderhead, and what are you doing? You reproach him because he isn't there, bawl because you can't live without him! Since when aren't you use to living alone, huh?

He stood up and walked across the room to the kitchen. In the fridge he found a bottle of beer, opened it and drank. But then, what had happened wasn't just a joke. His life had certainly been threatened and Marcus didn't care a fuck about it. What should he do now? Above all there was the Academy of Arts which he was determined to attent whatever happened. His hand would heal soon and he could go on Tuesday to look around, to get to know his classmates and his teacher. Hopefully it wouldn't be Frank. He wasn't sure if he could stand his presence now without the strength Marcus gave him.

Nicholas felt the alcohol circulating warmly through his veins and a certain lightness in his head reminded him that he had eaten nothing that morning.

Frustrated he shuffled to his little, old fridge to find that there was nothing eatable there anymore. The butter was rancid, cheese and bread mouldy. The only thing he found was a tomato, perhaps four weeks old but still red and full like a rubber ball and likewise unedible. Genetically modified crap obviously, Nicholas muttered under his breath.

He searched the shelves for something eatable and found a tin of tomato soup and a torn open box of pasta. Well, better than nothing, he thought, he could thicken the soup to a sauce.

While he stirred the red souce in the pan, he asked himself how to continue. Give up Marcus because they were too different as Matthias stated? He shook his head. They had got along so well together these last few weeks, there wasn't any sign of class differences. Marcus had never let him sense that Nicholas wasn't good enough for him, too stupid or uneducated. Rather the opposite. And the meeting with Sebastian and Kay had brought so much light into his life; he missed them now so much that he almost felt a physical pain.

Nicholas shoved in the pasta without tasting. The only thing he could think was that he couldn't lose Marcus and had behaved like a little, defiant child. But he would only show up at Marcus' house when he was back, in the meantime Sebastian had called Marcus for sure, but what would he do?

Nicholas pushed away the only half-empty plate. The beer had made him tired. He closed the windows and stretched out on the couch. But the ringing of the telephone made him jerk upright. Quicker than he thought possible, Nicholas jumped to answer it, but there wasn't any sound as he listened. But nevertheless he sensed that there was somebody on the other end of the line and he finally yelled to fuck off, slammed the receiver back and jumped upon the couch again.

He woke up with a jolt, rubbing his eyes and noticed that it was growing dark outside. He rose, went slowly to the window and stared from the first floor, where he lived, over the yard and up to the countless bright, small windows around it. One thing he alwayws had appreciated was that Marcus had no building overlooking his and they could be very uninhibited, doing exactly what they liked without feeling watched.

His wrist began to hurt again but he had forgotten to bring any aspirin with him. Dejectedly he went into the kitchen and pulled out the last bottle of beer of the fridge. Maybe if he got drunk the pain would subside, and not only the pain in his hand.

He heard his neighbour above him stamping with heavy steps through his flat and knew in a few minutes he would switch on the TV and perhaps the VCR to watch some of his stupid pornos.

He decided to turn on his own TV and let himself sink into his old armchair. It didn't take long before he was sound asleep. Again he dreamt about a dark shining car with screaming brakes whose headlights dazzled him, tasted the choking petrol in his throat mixed with the sweet scent of chloroform. He wandered alone through unknown deserted streets and felt himself followed by a man in a long coat and a hat pulled low over his forehead.

In the middle of the night he woke up again, turned off the TV, listened and turned back to the couch were he fell asleep again.

Sebastian drowsily lifted his left eyelid and moaned very quietly just on the point of shooting load into Kay's ravenous sucking mouth. Kay peered into Sebastian's almost relaxed face and redoubled his exertions to get the prize which was not be long in coming.

"O man," Sebastian panted huskily, "you're like a greedy cat, honey, but I love it." He grinned like the famous Cheshire cat as Kay stretched himself over his body at full length and pressed his semen-flecked lips on Sebastian's.

"Now how do you feel?" Kay whispered, "after this long fuck?" he added.

Sebastian tasted the bitter-sweetness on his tongue.

"Want any more?"

"Heavens, no!" Sebastian shouted and rolled Kay onto his back. "For the present I've definitely had enough, baby, I guess my asshole is loaded with fire now", he said grinning. "But you are good, lover boy, almost as good as Marcus."

"Am I in a sort of an competition?" Kay frowned, "why don't you go and fuck him like crazy if he is THAT good?"

"Oh," Sebastian regretted his words instantly. "You are too sensitive. But I'm sorry. I only wanted to compliment you."

He kissed Kay's nose. "Forgive me?" He felt Kay's hardness between his legs, straining against his belly and began a gently humping, which conjured a smile on Kay's face. Sebastian had fallen in love with this smile but then the thought of Matthias hit him and he remembered that he wanted to go and ask him for the address, so he quickened the handjob until he felt Kay arch his back and his hot white cum flood into and over his hand and belly. Then he lifted the giggling Kay up from the bed and vanished with him in the bathroom.

This shopping centre was certainly not one of Sebastian's favourite places so he plodded rather grouchily through the departments, looked more or less interested at the displayed products and studied the directions. It took a while until he found the right place, entered the escalator and proceeded upstairs.

It was hot under the shining lamps and he felt dazzled at this early morning hour. Sebastian grinned. It was just after nine am - definitely too early for a man like him. He noticed the back of a young man between several shelves which looked very like Matthias, approached him, cleared his throat and asked innocently, "Excuse me, Sir, do you have bulbs in stock?"

Matthias spun around, stopped short for a moment and then a broad grin spread over his face. "Sebastian!" But instantly he frowned. "Has something happened to Nick?"

Sebastian nodded. "Have you seen him?"

"But yes. Yesterday he was at my house but wanted to go back home."

Sebastian sighed. "Good. We thought he would go to you first, but do you have his address?"

"But of course. Wait a minute." He went to the counter, and scribbled something on the note pad. "Here, have you a clue where this is?"

Sebastian narrowed his eyes and tried to read the address. Then he shook his head.

"No clue, but I have a city map in the car." He smiled at the younger man. "By the way, Marcus is on the way here, could be that he's already at home and waiting for me."

"Indeed?" Matthias beamed. "You persuaded him in the end?"

"Sort of, yes. He's a damn stubborn bugger." He looked at his watch.

"And you?" he asked then, "everything ok? How do you like the work here?"

"Well, I could image something better, but it's ok, yes. But how's Kay? Do you want to take him back with you to Rome?"

Sebastian looked at him as if he said something stupid. "Not a bad idea, my friend." He smiled. "I must go, take care of you. Hope we'll meet again sometime."

Nick woke up because he was freezing. His hands and feet were ice cold and he searched in his suitcase for a thick pullover and turned on the old gas heating. Again he looked out of the window to find it was drizzling outside. He yawned. Weather to match his own mood. His stomach felt empty which reminded him to buy something to eat, luckily he still had Marcus' credit card and wouldn't hesitate to use it. After all, it was Marcus who paid for this flat, his telephone- and TV-bills, although he never understood the reason why Nick had insisted to keep his flat. Well now he would know: for cases like these.

While he had a lick and a promise in the bathroom he pondered what he would do first, and the more he thought about Marcus the more he missed him and his mood improved considerably. He turned on the radio, listened to the newest horror news from all over the world and was ready for a hot cup of coffee. He was sure somewhere was a little left. But then the telephone rang again and Nicholas was instantly on the line.

First he heard nothing like the call last night, but then there was a hollow, male voice said, "Are you already prepaired for a long journey?"

"Huh?" Nicholas didn't understand what he meant. "What do you mean? Who are you? What journey?"

Silence. Then, "You will see. Soon."

"Hello?" Nicholas shouted into the receiver. But the line was dead.

Confused he stared at the receiver in his hand and jumped as the doorbell rang. Frightened he gazed at the brown painted entrance door and his heartbeat quickened. "You will see," echoed in his mind. "Soon."

Was he there already?

The bell rang again. Nicholas tiptoed to the door and laid his ear against the wood. He cursed that the door didn't have a peephole to look who's there.

Somebody hammered against the wood and Nicholas jumped. "Who," he cleared his throat, "who's there?" he asked.

"It's me, honey, come, open the door."

"Marcus!" Nicholas' trembling hands fumbled with the key, unlocked it finally and tore open the door. It was like a blow to the stomach to see his lover again and with one smooth motion he grabbed him by the arm, dragged him inside and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"What are you doing here?" he murmured close to Marcus' ear. "I thought you'd never come again."

"Nonsense", Marcus said softly, "why are you so mixed up?"

Marcus gently broke free and looked deeply into Nicholas' eyes.

"You don't look good, honey, slept badly?" He looked at the rings under his eyes and ran his fingers through his lover's disheveled hair.

"But how do you know ... why do you ... are you ..." Nicholas stuttered until Marcus laughed and went with him into the only room of the flat.

"Sebastian got your address from Matthias. He went to the shop this morning."

"Sebastian?" Nicholas asked doubtfully. "He called you?"

"Yes. And he certainly put me straight. Thoroughly."

Marcus sat on the couch and pulled Nicholas beside him. "See, I'm sorry for all." He took his right, bandaged hand into his own.

"But tell me first all about the accident. Sebastian said you had drunk to much and stumbled in the street..."

"So you think I was drunk and therefore the car hit me?" Nicholas said excitedly. "No, Marcus. I wasn't drunk nor was this an accident. The car turned twice to return and came directly to me. If Sebastian hadn't been there I would ... I would..." he left the sentence unfinished.

Marcus blinked and stroked his hand. "Does it still hurt? But, baby what about the Academy, the new term starts tomorrow, what will you do?"

"But that's not important to me at the moment. Understand."

"Yes, yes, it's ok." Marcus leaned back and pulled Nicholas' to his chest. "Now I'm here to take care of you, it will never happen again."

"You will protect me 24 hours a day now?" He peered up into Marcus dark eyes. "That's impossible, and you know it. The only thing I want to know is if all the incidents - the mugger with the cloth, the fire and the car - were the same person and if so, why he's doing it. I doubt you can help me with this, or have you any idea. Sebastian said he wouldn't know about it."

Marcus stroked the blond hair and remained silent. He debated with himself as to whether he should tell him his sucpicions concerning Simon or if this would Nicholas frighten furthermore. He decided against it.

"Really, honey. I don't know if there is a connection."

Nicholas broke free from his embrance. "But surely there must be," he exlaimed. "You must be blind not to see it! Why do you take it all so ... calmly?!"

"Sssh, I'm not taking it calmly." Marcus tried to soothe him. "But I don't want to upset you with things which we don't know about. It's only ... suspicious circumstances so far."

"Suspicious circumstances? You have somebody in mind? Who?"

Marcus shook his head.

"But yes! Tell me! And stop treating me like a little child!"

"We think it could be Simon," Marcus said quietly.

Nicholas looked at him in disbelief. "Simon?" he croaked. "That's absurd." Abruptly he remembered the call. "I had a call just before you arrived. Two calls," he correct himself.

"A call? What call?"

"A man, asking me if I was prepaired to make a long journey."

Marcus gazed at him. "A long journey? Did he say anything else?"

"Hm, nothing. It was strange, but then you were at the door and I was scared shitless that it could be him." He thought a moment. "But the voice sounded older, it couldn't be the voice of Simon. I'm sure."

Marcus dropped his head and Nicholas wiped a strand of black hair out of his eyes. "But now tell me all about yourself. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Marcus had come straight from the airport it crossed his mind and he was probably dog tired. "Want to sleep a bit?"

Marcus lifted his head and grinned. "I'm fine, darling." He looked around. "Now, this is your flat." He stood up and went to the window. Then he turned and sized up the room with one look.

"I know it's not exactly the Charlottenburg castle but it's cheap." And noisy and dirty and empty, he added for himself. Suddenly he felt ashamed and avoided Marcus look.

"Hey," Marcus said good-humoured, "it's a great flat. But the walls look a bit empty because all your paintings are now in my ... our house. Don't you want to come with me? Right now? And on the way you can explain me why you ran away so fast and without any good reason."

Nicholas watched the sleeping Marcus lying bent together in the corner of the couch. Sebastian had gone with Kay to his own apartment and had left a note for them. He was thankful that he hadn't had to face the man. While he was looking at his lover he couldn't understand himself anymore. What did Sebastian have that Marcus didn't? Was it only his presence while Marcus searched around the world for a precious screen?

Marcus stirred a bit and his eyelashes fluttered. Nicholas knelt beside him and gave him a little peck on his cheek. "Hey, sleeping beauty", he whispered. Marcus smiled and rose into a sitting position. "What's the time?"

"Past eight."

"Past eight? Man, that late already?" He focused his gaze on Nicholas.

"You must be hungry."

Nicholas shook his head. "Not hungry." He bent over and kissed his lips. "Can we go upstairs?"

Marcus nodded.

In the middle of the bedroom he stood and rummaged in his still-unpacked suitcase for a little box. He handed it to Nicholas.

"What's this?" Nicholas looked at the box wrapped in blue paper.

"Open it."

Nicholas ripped the paper and opened it. Then he looked amazed at a silver coin which had a little hole and through it a very small leather ribbon. The soft light of the lamp mirrored in it and Nicholas could make out an imprinted head.

He looked up into Marcus' smiling face. "What is it? It's beautiful."

"An old indian coin, sort of a peace medal which scouts used to wear."

"Indian scouts? It's authentic?"

Marcus nodded. "It's a good luck charme. I think you could need it."

He stepped closer, took the small leather band from the box and fastened it around Nicholas' neck. It was short and the medal felt cool upon his skin. He turned Nicholas to face him. "It suits you well." And without any further word he began to undress him and Nicholas let it happened with growing anticipation.

"I have missed you, honey. So much", Marcus murmured into his ears while he continued to undress him, allowed his jeans fall to the carpet, sat him upon the bed, kicked off his shoes, his socks, his pants and began a tender excursion first with his mouth, then with his tongue and finally with his hands.

Nicholas let himself fall back upon the bed and almost lost his mind. The only thing he could feel was the warmth of the mouth and the breath upon his skin and a brief interruption let him know that Marcus had undressed himself until he felt again a heavy, hot body upon his own, licking every inch of his body, beginning with his collarbone and ending in the area of his groin.

Nicholas felt as if he was in a warm bath, graced with warm water, with loving caresses and surrounded by a deep, seductive voice, telling him to turn over onto his stomach where he felt a lithe, wet tongue sneaking into the crack of his ass, searching for his hole, wetting it, pushing lightly inside, making him moan in delight while one hand was rubbing his erect meat, the other was spreading his ass cheeks.

Another interruption and Nicholas knew, Marcus was searching for lube in the drawer, turned again to his back but never opened his eyes. It was a strange feeling to lie there in absolute darkness and to see only with his senses. He felt Marcus' mouth on his cock, sucking lightly, wandering beneath to inhale his balls and as he thought he couldn't stand it any longer he felt his legs lifted and the big, yielding tip of Marcus' penis at his entrance. A cautious push and he slipped inside, stopped and pressed his mouth on Nicholas'. "Are you ok?" he heard his voice and opened his eyes slowly. The gas lamps from outside mirrored into Marcus' black, burning eyes. Slowly and without obstacles his cock sank in and caused Nicholas a moan which came deep from his throat.

He never lost his smile while Marcus made love to him, to mesh his soul with his, to connect their bodies, licking stray tears from the corner of his eyes, to share suppressed cries and finally to fell asleep together.

When Marcus awoke, Nicholas' body was lying almost on top of him, the head heavy on his shoulder, his breath steady and calm. He enjoyed the warm body and asked himself if he ever had such a peaceful feeling. Certainly not with Simon. His eyes found Sebastian's face in the painting. With him? Yes - sometimes. Marcus wouldn't have minded if he and Sebastian had remained together together for a lifetime, but ... his friend couldn't be faithful, he was always searching and never finding and Marcus wondered how long Kay would be able to hold him.

He stroked the soft down on Nicholas' back and pondered about the events, the accident and about all the calls. Someone was following him and his lover, had learnt his name to search for the telephone number to make his frightening calls. "Prepaired for a long journey"... This could surely only mean either a kidnapping or ... death.

Marcus' grip tightened around Nicholas' naked shoulder. Whoever he was had obviously tried both. How could he protect him? He thought briefly about reporting to the police but rejected the idea. It would be useless.

He pressed his lips into Nicholas' hair. Now, lying so close to his lover he couldn't understand himself - his stupid eagerness for an old wooden screen. It seemed so ridiculous to him now to put this above the life of Nicholas. But he knew himself; he possessed that same hunting fever that his father and grandfather had, a nose for possibilities and the skill at negotiation which always got what he wanted. He knew certainly that it was exactly this instinct that had scared Simon away from him to search for happiness in other beds and he was well aware that he was the reason for all the things that had happened to his ex-lover.

Nicholas bandaged hand stirred and wandered around Marcus' chest, he sighed deeply and lifted his head to peer into his face.

"Hi, angel," Marcus said.

"Morning, lover." Nicholas yawned sleepily. "Why are you awake so early?"

Marcus chuckled. "Early is good. It's past ten."

"Really?" Then reality hit him and he sat up. "I have to go to the Academy! Shit!" He was about to jump out of the bed, but felt himself held back.

"Stop it, baby. There's no need to rush. You can go in the afternoon."

"Do you think so? Well", he said sighing. "You are right, only introduction events anyway. I don't need them."

He lay back into the pillows and Marcus bent over him and nuzzled his neck.

"The medaillon suits you really well, baby." he whispered.

"Oh", Nicholas' fingers embraced the silver medal. "Do you think it will work?"

"What will work?"

"As a good luck charm."

Marcus stared intently into his face. "I'll stay with you until we find the man who is after us, I promise you." he said seriously.

Nicholas lifted his hands and stroked Marcus' hair at the nape of his neck.

"The most terrifying thing is that there is somebody watching me. Someone who knows everything I'm doing, where I'm going to, knows my number, my address. And I have no clue why!"

Marcus bent down his face to kiss his dry lips. "I understand you, darling. I feel the same. Let's think about it - can you remember the car? What colour, type, number plate or anything?"

Nicholas shook his head. "It was night and the car was dark but that's all I know."

"So you really think Simon is out of question? I mean the voice ... he could change it, make it deeper perhaps or there are two persons."

"But the reason, Marcus. As long we don't know the reason we can't sort it out. Simon could be cross with you of course. An abandoned ex-lover, suffering from AIDS." He paused. "Frank. A vicious game he plays. But I don't really see the reason for him to do it. He had me and forgot me. This was his sole intention. He made a fool out of me, and it's long time ago."

He gazed into Marcus eyes. "Alex? A dismissed employee. But why he should after ME? I could understand the fire at the exhibition to harm you, but me? Or do you have any other enemies? Some sick persons who want to destroy you by destroying me?"

Marcus sighed and rolled onto his back again. "Believe me," he said, "I have thought about it again and again, but nobody comes to my mind. I always play fair, there's no one I could imagine I have hurt that much."

He pulled Nicholas into his arms. "How is your hand?" he asked.

"Better. It's stopped hurting. But only as long I don't move it. Doc said I have to go for a check in few days."

"But there will be no after effects?"

"No. I don't think so." Nicholas looked at Marcus' painting at the wall. "I want to paint more portraits of you, you know."

"Do you?"

"Yes. All naked. More exciting."

"Ah!!" Marcus grinned and ruffled his hair. "Tell me about Sebastian and Kay. There's something between them isn't there?"

"Oh yes. Kay came here after the accident and Sebastian brought me home and ..."

"And?"

Nicholas bite his lips. "I mean, we were upset and Sebastian had forgotten Kay was still at the Moonbreaker. But certainly they've reconciled since."

"So he took good care of you, did he?" In Marcus' voice was a strange undertone. "Did he try anything?"

"Huh?"

"You understood me."

"Well, no..."

"Sebastian is after everyone in pants, you know."

Nicholas changed the theme. "He told me Anna hates him."

"Oh, Anna. Well, 'hate' is too strong a term, I'd say. She use to have terrible quarrels with Simon, he was a pretty slut and changed the house during my absence into a cave of robbers, invited suspicious people to parties. And I had to take the consequences when I came back."

While he spoke, his eyes gazed at Simon's picture at the wall. The sparkling, dark eyes, the impish grin, the round butt, peering out of the towel. Briefly he remembered their wild nights on the carpet in the living room, their fucking sessions in the bad tub and on the big table in the dining room or on a summer night in the garden on the bare earth between the sweet smelling grass and flowers. He could still smell the scent of the joints he brought sometimes after which all the colours around them were brighter, all sounds more transparent, all feelings more intense and Marcus felt he could fuck him forever.

"His clothes were spread all over the house." he continued. "I forbate him to enter my little studio under the roof and that was the only order he ever respected."

{But last night ... this was not a 'fucking session'. This was ... love.} Marcus head cleared.

"He cannot paint?" Nicholas suddenly asked.

{Certainly it was love. Something he never felt before. God, Marcus}

Nicholas nudged him with his knee. "Have you fallen asleep again?"

"Uh, no he couldn't paint. Hey," he bent once again over Nicholas. "The world doesn't consist only of painters, darling." He smiled.

Nicholas smiled back. "But you never told me why she 'hates' Sebastian."

"But I told you she is jelous. I grew up with her, and I know her better than my mother, you understand."

"Wasn't there an incident after you and Sebastian came home for a holiday from Switzerland?"

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "Who told you that? Bastian?"

Nicholas nodded.

"Chatterbox."

"But why? He seemes to be a bit sad when he told me about it."

"Sad? Sebastian?" Of course, he thought then. Sebastian had a remarkable talent of hiding his real feelings. They never talked about this incident which seemed a thousand years ago as both were little more than children and had only just begun to express their love for each other. Marcus always had the feeling that this was the real reason for Sebastian's restless character, that he couldn't be faithful, searching for a silent place to rest ... for the man he could settle down with, but was always afraid there could be another Anna...

He sighed. "Yes, Anna told my parents what she had seen and Sebastian was forbidden to enter the house or to see me again. But I fought for him. Did you know that my head is harder than granite?" he grinned.

"I suspected as much. But what finally parted you?"

Marcus shook his head. "I don't know exactly. Circumstances. We lived together."

"Here?"

"No. In Sebastian's flat. The one he still lives in. But we couldn't live together. I can't describe it. He looked for other men and I couldn't bear it... or something."

"But why did he look for other men? I would never..." Nicholas suddenly went silent.

"Yes, you would never." Marcus kissed his lips and smiled. "Do you feel better? Shall we completely scare away the nasty thoughts?"

He rubbed his hardening cock over Nicholas'.

"Every time", Nicholas panted.

"Mum? It's me. How are you?" Nicholas patted his full stomach and lounged on the couch.

"Nicholas! I'm so happy you've finally called. I felt very bad after you had he argument with your father. He didn't mean to say what he said, you must believe me."

"I believe you, mum. But said is said. I cannot speak to him seriously. It's useless. He thinks a faggot is a monster or somebody who rapes little children or something."

"Nicholas. Please, don't say that. It's ... I tried to talk about it with him."

"And? Successfully?"

"No." Her voice was low. "But how can I live with this? I don't want to lose you."

"You don't lose me, mum." He thought quickly whether he should tell her about the accident but decided against it. He didn't want to upset her more than necessary.

"This afternoon I'm going to the Academy to start again. I want to get my final exams."

"And how long do you have to go for?"

"Another year I guess."

"A whole year! And how will you live in the meantime? You are certainly out of money!"

"Yes. But I get some support from the Academy. And I have the money for my sold paintings. That's enough."

"It's , Nicholas. Will Marcus pay for you?"

Nicholas sighed. "Yes. You know that, and it's ok."

"You ... you get along well?"

"Yes. Very well." Nicholas grinned. "Bye, mum. I'll call you again."

He put back the receiver and sat there pondering. He did'nt feel good about his father. It hurt more than he wanted to admit. To be called a faggot was one thing - but from his own father it was another. Surely underneath he didn't change, after all he was still his son and he had loved him until he learnt that his son was gay. What had changed then, where was the difference now?

He heard Anna rummaging in the kitchen, stood up, put the telephone back into its place in the hall and went upstairs.

Marcus lay crosswise over the bed and studied a rather thick book. Nicholas sat beside him and peered over his shoulder.

"Still there?" Marcus asked. "I thought you had already gone."

"Just called my mother."

"And?"

"Fine."

"What fine?"

Nicholas shrugged. "My father is upset about me."

Marcus face told him he didn't understand.

"I had a row with him. He found out that I'm living with you. And that I'm gay", he added.

Marcus look dismayed. "How did he find out? Somebody told him? Your mother?"

"No, not my mother. He read it in the newspaper."

"Newspaper?" Then his face lit up. "Ah, the report about the exhibition. But I don't quite understand thought."

"There was a report in the tabloids, mentioned your gayness and that I'm your newest conquest."

"Oh."

Marcus sat up and pulled him into an embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "He took it badly, yes?" He kissed his cheek.

"It's allright. You can't help me with this. What you are looking for?" He gestured at the book.

"Screens."

"Screens? Is there a photo of the screen you were after?" Suddenly Nicholas realized that Marcus hadn't said a word about it.

"What about the Burne-Jones screen? You've lost him? For my sake?"

Marcus shook his head. "Not for your sake. Nothing could be more important to me than you."

Nicholas' cheeks reddened briefly. "But the man will sell it to someone else, right?"

"Carlisle, yes. I don't know. Suddenly it seemed he wasn't sure if he should sell it anyway. But I made him an offer he could scarcely refuse and he wanted to think it over."

"But then I interfered and you lost it probably."

"But no, darling." Marcus stroked Nicholas' cheeks. "I don't care about it. It's not important."

"Is it in this book?"

Marcus took it to his knees and leafed through the pages. "Look here." Nicholas saw a folding dark wooden screen whose upper part consisted of painted glass. There were four people, probably two men and two women, he couldn't make out the androgynous forms exactly, in wide flowing gowns apparently busy with home- and field work.

"And Burne-Jones painted this, right?"

"Right. It's the only screen he ever painted."

"And how did it get to America?"

To be continued^Z