Chapter
Four
“I SHOULD go.” I tucked my shirt into my pants and reached for my suit jacket. We hadn’t had our coffee after all, but I didn’t really want any. I glanced at the kettle. “Did you want coffee? We seem to have forgotten about it.”
Sasha gave me a quick smile and shook his head. He put his shirt back on and fastened a few of the buttons, leaving the garment hanging loose over his pants. I knew I should say something more. I’d sounded abrupt when I told him I should leave, and I hoped he didn’t think I couldn’t wait to get away. “I’d like to do this again soon. If you want to.” I smiled and he immediately beamed back at me.
“I’d love to.”
“Good. I’ll catch up with you between dances tomorrow.” I hated the thought of him performing for the crowds even more than I had before I’d touched him. The idea of him thrusting his groin in the general direction of a dozen grasping hands, his cock half-hard and straining against whichever microscopic costume he had on made my guts clench. I pushed the thought aside and picked up my coat.
I locked the inner doors and Sasha turned away to go upstairs, but I caught his hand and pulled him back. “Not going to say good night?”
He stepped closer and rested his free hand on my chest. “Good night,” he murmured in Czech. “Thank you, Joel.”
I touched his face and kissed him warmly. When he’d gone, I remembered the towel in the kitchen. I unlocked everything again, stuffed the towel into my pocket, and let myself out of the building. Outside I flagged down a cab. I’d walked enough for one day.
“Enjoy your night?” the driver asked. I recognized him from several previous journeys. It was inevitable that I’d run into the same drivers when I used a cab six days a week to get home from the club. I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror before I answered, and realized I had a grin on my face.
“Yeah, it was good. You busy?”
“Not really. Sundays are always quiet.”
We made small talk during the short trip to the condos and I left the driver a tip. A few minutes later, I reached my apartment and went straight into my bedroom. I shed my clothes, chuckling over my shirt buttons being in the wrong holes and my very obviously stained pants. I tossed the items into the corner of the room to deal with the next day, and limped into the bathroom. My leg throbbed, and I needed the heat of the shower.
I stood under the too-hot spray, my back against the tiled wall, eyes closed, and relived the evening in my mind, right down to the heated episode in the club’s kitchen. The memory of how Sasha’s cock had felt in my hand, how we’d come, made me harden again. He seemed to want me as much as I wanted him, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Sliding my hands down my body, I grasped my erection in one and cupped my balls in the other. I jerked off to thoughts of my hands on Sasha’s body and the memory of his warm breath on my neck as he moaned my name.
THE SOUND of my cell phone ringing penetrated my sleep, and I jerked awake, heart pounding. I sat up and grabbed my phone from the bedside table.
Rosalyn calling.
“Shit!” There was only one reason my sister would call at—I glanced at the luminous hands on my clock—four thirty in the morning. I touched the green button and held the phone to my ear. “Ros, what happened?”
“Joe, you have to come home.” Her voice was thick with tears, and I jumped out of bed, groping for the light switch. “We’re at the hospital. Mum’s bad.” She broke off on a sob. Panic filled me and my stomach turned over.
“All right, Ros, I’m getting dressed now.”
“Give me the phone, love.” Steve spoke in the background, and after a muffled sound, he came on the line. “Joel, Marie had a heart attack about an hour ago. They brought her in by ambulance. They had to shock her, but we don’t know yet how she’s doing.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I dragged on a pair of boxer briefs and struggled one-handed with a sock. “I’ll get a taxi to the airport and book a seat from my iPad. Where’s Rachael?”
“We left her with Andy and Clare next door. Their little girl, Emma, is her best friend.”
“Yeah, I know. Go take care of Rosalyn. I’m on my way.”
“Safe trip.” Steve hung up, and I dropped my phone onto the bed. Within ten minutes I’d dressed in jeans, a warm sweater, boots, and coat, and had a large piece of hand luggage packed. I dug my passport out of a drawer, slipped my iPad into its case and my phone into my pocket, and rushed to the door.
Luckily I found a taxi in Wenceslas Square. The driver had just dropped off a customer, and I hurried toward the car, waving my arm. He waited and I dived into the back seat.
“Airport,” I panted. “Quick as you can.”
“The roads will be quiet. We should make it in twenty minutes.”
“Good.” I pulled out my iPad to search for flights. The first one left at seven, landing at London Heathrow at just after eight, local time. Relieved to find seats available, I reserved one. By the time the driver turned into Václav Havel Airport, I’d checked in online and had cash in my hand ready to pay the man. I gave him a generous tip and charged into the building as fast as my aching leg would allow. I had over ninety minutes before takeoff, but until I’d reached the appropriate gate I couldn’t relax. Not that I was likely to relax anyway.
I hurried through check-in, found a seat in Departures, and checked the time—five forty. Calculating quickly, I realized the earliest I could possibly get to my family was by nine thirty local time. Taking Monday rush hour into account, it could easily be longer. Of course if I used the trains rather than a taxi, it could be faster. I sank back into the seat with a groan and rubbed a hand over my face. Please be okay, Mum.
I fiddled with my phone while I waited. Steve sent me a text to confirm which hospital they were at. Mum had always been taken to the same one, but he hadn’t wanted to assume I knew. I let him know I was waiting to board a plane.
I considered calling someone at the club, but it was much too early. It was rare for any of them, particularly Karel, to crawl out of bed before noon. I’d have to remember to contact someone later. If I couldn’t reach Karel, it would have to be Pavel. As the bar manager, he was the next senior person I trusted with everything. For the most part, I kept my private life removed from everyone else at the club—except for Sasha.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I’d have to call him at some point. If I didn’t, he might think I’d changed my mind about him. The dancers all had landline telephones in their rooms, and I had the numbers in my cell. I’d probably be able to reach him later in the day. I almost wished the landline phones had answering machines, but I wouldn’t have wanted to explain the situation via a recorded message.
It seemed an interminable length of time before my flight was called. I kept my phone on as I boarded, hoping for a text from Steve with an update, but there was nothing. I reluctantly turned off the device when instructed and closed my eyes, hoping to avoid conversation with the young woman sitting beside me. Two hours and I’d be in London.
My plane landed on time, and I disembarked as quickly as the crowd in the aisle would allow. With only hand luggage, I was able to race through Arrivals and head straight to the railway station. I’d switched on my phone as I’d shuffled off the plane, and I checked it for messages as I went to look for a train going my way.
Marie stable in ICU. Try not to worry.
“Easy for you to say.” My hands shook as I typed a reply to let him know I’d landed and hoped to be there in an hour. I’d spent the flight dreading hearing that I was too late, and that Mum had already gone. The sense of relief that she was holding on made me weak, and I fought to swallow the lump in my throat.
I barely noticed the train journey and subsequent short ride on the Tube. When I left the station, the cold drizzle mirrored the weather in Prague. Crowds hurried around me, workers and shoppers scurrying to their destinations: a diverse horde of people that reminded me of the city I’d left. The buildings here were newer and far less attractive, the streets wider and filled with more vehicles, but the basics of city life were the same. If I hadn’t been so worried about Mum, I’d have smiled over the similarities.
By the time I’d walked the short distance from the station to the hospital, my leg protested painfully and my head ached in sympathy. I was desperately in need of caffeine and painkillers, but I put that longing aside for the moment. I had to see Mum.
“Joe!” Rosalyn rose from a seat in the corridor outside ICU and hurled herself toward me. Tears stained her pale face, and her eyes were red and puffy. She threw her arms around my neck and clung to me. I hugged her tightly, my heart aching.
Steve rose from his seat and met my eyes over Rosalyn’s head. “She’s sedated,” he said. “She didn’t need surgery. They think she’s going to be okay, but it’s a waiting game.”
I nodded at him and released my sister as she pulled against my embrace.
“I’m sorry you had to rush over here in the middle of the night.” She brushed at my jacket, where one of her tears had dripped.
“Don’t be silly. I should have been here anyway. I should have stayed longer last time. Can I go in and see Mum?”
“In a few minutes. They’re doing some tests.”
I sat down on one of the plastic chairs nearby, relieved to rest my leg after the frantic dash from the Tube station. Rosalyn sat beside me and tucked her hand through my arm.
“Coffee?” Steve gave my shoulder a squeeze and I looked up at him.
“God, yes. Thank you.”
“You know, you sound more like a foreigner every day.” Rosalyn’s voice was thin, but she still managed to tease.
“Shut up, Englishwoman.”
“Talk to me, will you? Anything to stop me thinking for a minute.”
“I’ve done all my Christmas shopping.” It was the first thing that came into my head.
“You’re so bloody organized, Joe. I’ve made lists, but that’s all, so far. Rachael wants an iPad. I’ve told her a hundred times if she has that it’s the only present she’ll get.”
“I bought her an iPad. You told me the last time I was here that she wanted one.”
“Oh, Joe. You spoil her far too much.” Rosalyn leaned in to rest her head on my shoulder.
“Of course I’m gonna spoil her. She’s my only niece.”
“Here you go.” Steve appeared with three paper cups of coffee and I took mine gratefully. Hospital coffee was vile stuff, but better than nothing. I unzipped the pocket on the side of my bag and took out a pack of aspirin.
“Leg hurting?” Rosalyn asked sympathetically.
“Yeah. And my head.”
“Mine too. Gimme?” She rubbed a hand over her tearstained face and pushed her hair back, then reached for the pills. After I’d popped a couple free of the blister pack, I handed it to her. When she passed it back to me, she slumped in the seat, exhaustion and worry marring her features. I imagined my face appeared much the same. Steve took a seat the other side of Rosalyn and held her hand as we waited together in an unhappy silence.
Half an hour passed before a doctor stepped out of the room closest to us and advised that Marie Jones was stable, exactly what Steve had already told me. We could go in if we wanted, two at a time. I went with my sister and we sat on either side of Mum, each holding one of her hands. She looked frail and gray, breathing with the help of a ventilator.
“I’m not ready to lose her yet,” Rosalyn whispered. “She’s so young.”
“She’s as tough as old boots. She’ll come out of this and tell us off for fussing so much.” I replied with a confidence I didn’t feel. Mum looked worse than I’d ever seen her. She was a tall, robust lady, but lying in the hospital bed surrounded by machines with various tubes and wires attached to her, she seemed to have physically shrunk.
We stayed an hour until I had to excuse myself to go to the gents. When I returned, Steve had joined Rosalyn in ICU and I sat down on the seat I’d previously vacated. I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. It would be past twelve in Prague and I could probably reach Karel by now. I scrolled through my contacts to his number and called, but his phone went straight to his answering service.
“Damn it.” Knowing Karel, he’d be having his first fuck of the day with whomever he’d picked up the night before. I searched for Pavel’s number instead and was relieved when he answered almost immediately.
“Hi, boss. What’s up?”
“Hello, Pavel. I’m going to need you to help Karel look after things for a while. I’m not sure how long for. I had to come home. My mother’s in the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry, Joel. I hope she’ll soon get well. Don’t worry about anything here. You can count on me. Did you talk to Karel?”
“His phone’s off. Will you tell him? I don’t know when I’ll get the opportunity to call again.”
“Of course. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call quickly and scrolled through the dancers’ numbers, looking for Sasha’s. I was reluctant to give him a sob story, but at the same time I didn’t want him to wonder why I hadn’t been in touch. Taking a deep breath, I called him.
Sasha’s phone rang and rang but he didn’t pick up. He must have gone out. Disappointed, I called Tomáš. He was the only other person I felt I could confide in. He was loud and brash, he liked to play the fool and take the piss out of others, but I’d found him to be honest and trustworthy.
“Morning, boss!” he answered brightly, a moment later. “Actually, it’s afternoon, but only just. What can I do for you? Private dance maybe? You know you want to.”
“Tomáš.” My voice sounded dull and serious to my own ears, and he immediately picked up on it.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m in England. My mother’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, God. Is she going to be okay? I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t know, I hope so. I called Pavel and asked him to let Karel know. I couldn’t reach Karel; his phone’s off. They’ll keep everything running, but I need you to do something else for me.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“I don’t know if he’s said anything. Maybe he wants to keep it quiet; I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone—”
“Are you talking about Sasha?” Tomáš interrupted.
“Why would you think that?”
“The way you look at him and he looks at you, it’s surprising the pair of you haven’t gone up in flames. I’m sorry if that was out of line.”
“It wasn’t.” I sighed heavily. “I took him out for dinner last night. I called him just now, but—”
“He went to the supermarket.”
“Okay. Will you tell him what happened? I don’t want him to think… I don’t know, anything. That I changed my mind. You can give him my cell phone number. I haven’t done that. Don’t say anything about this to the others. I know you’re close with Marek.”
“I promise.”
“I don’t know how long I’m going to be away. It’s two weeks from Christmas. I may just stay until after, whatever happens.”
“I’ll tell him. Don’t worry about anything here.”
“Thank you, Tomáš. If I’m not back before, you can tell the others they’ll have their Christmas bonuses in their accounts on Christmas Eve. I can do that from here at least.”
“Hell, Joel. That’s the last thing you need to think about.”
I could picture Tomáš shaking his head, and I would have smiled if I hadn’t felt sick with anxiety. “Thanks.”
I ended the call quickly when Steve came out to sit with me. “Ros is reading to your mum,” he told me. “We thought she might hear her voice if she keeps talking. She’s got one of those women’s magazines with the short stories in.”
“That’s good.”
We sat in silence for a while until Steve suggested finding some food. It was almost two o’clock, and I hadn’t eaten anything since my dinner with Sasha. I wasn’t particularly hungry and doubted I’d find it easy to eat, but I agreed to a sandwich. Steve went to the cafeteria and returned ten minutes later with an assortment of wrapped sandwiches and some cans of Coke.
“There wasn’t much choice. Tuna, cheese and pickle, or ham salad. I got two of each.”
“Tuna. Thanks.” I took the sandwich and drink from him and ate without enthusiasm. Steve left me alone and went to take Rosalyn some of the food. When he came out again an hour later, I went in. “Any change?”
“Her eyelids flutter every so often.” Rosalyn forced a smile. “I keep thinking she’s going to wake up, but they said it’ll be a while. Maybe not even today.”
We sat together for most of the afternoon, passing the time talking. Rosalyn told me about Rachael’s recent achievements in school and how excited she was about Christmas. I told her one of the club’s dancers had left to go to a dance school in Vienna and that I had two new employees. “Gabriel and Sasha.”
“At least those two have names I can pronounce. Are they Czech?”
“Gabriel is. Sasha’s Russian.”
“That must make things difficult. Does he speak the language?”
“He’s learning, but his English is excellent. He’s become very popular in the club.”
Rosalyn turned her head and stared hard at me. “You like him.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.”
“Does he like you?”
“I think so. We had dinner last night.”
“It’s about time, Joe. It’s been a long time since Phillippe.”
“What can I say? I’m fussy.”
“Sasha must be special, then. What’s he like?”
“He’s sweet, a bit shy, but tougher than he seems. He’s been through a lot. He had a hard time for a few years, especially after he came out. Physically, he’s about an inch shorter than me, slim, nearly black hair, and green eyes. You’d say he was pretty.”
“How old is he?”
“Coming up to twenty-one.”
“Cradle snatcher.”
“Tell me about it. At least I haven’t gone as far as Karel. I despair of that man.”
“I thought he was your friend.” She raised her eyebrows.
“He is, but I don’t have to like him hitting on boys so young. They’re legal, but—”
The beep on one of the machines beside Mum’s bed became irregular.
“Oh, God, what’s happening?” Rosalyn leapt out of her chair, wringing her hands. “What shall I do?” Without waiting for an answer, she punched the red button on the wall and a loud buzzer issued a warning. In seconds, a nurse burst into the room. She checked the beeping machine and shouted toward the partly open door.
“I need some help in here, please!”
“Shit!” I rose from my chair and pushed it out of the way. “What’s going on?” I reached for Rosalyn’s hand, and we moved away from the bed to give the medical staff room to work. Two doctors charged into the room with a crash cart and I watched in horror as they shocked Mum, paused, and repeated the procedure. Rosalyn cried quietly beside me, clinging to my hand with both of hers.
I felt strange, as if this wasn’t really happening. Rosalyn had always liked the TV show, Casualty, when she was in her teens. It seemed as if I were watching an episode of the hospital drama, rather than standing by my mother’s bedside while doctors tried to keep her alive. I tried to focus but I didn’t completely register what was going on until staff began to wheel the bed out of the room, and I heard the word surgery uttered by one of them. Then Rosalyn let go of my hand and wrapped both arms around me instead.
“God, Joe, what if she dies? What are we going to do?”
I hugged her tightly, feeling like a kid for the first time in almost twenty years since we’d lost Dad. I understood exactly how she felt and her words echoed in my head.
What are we going to do?