Old Habits
Part 2
It was almost half past ten the next night when Tristan arrived home. Reasonably certain there was no inch of his body that did not ache, he wanted nothing more than a hot shower and something to eat. Putting his key ring on the table, he glanced at the post which had grown into two piles and decided to ignore it another day.
Robin was curled up on the sofa reading, his glasses halfway down his nose as he ignored the closing minutes of the news. Grabbing the remote off a sofa cushion, Tristan lowered the volume before dropping a kiss on the top of Robin's head.
"I don't think we need it that loud, darling. The neighbours have televisions of their own." Yanking his tie free of its knot, he began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm for a shower, all right?"
Robin put his book aside. "If you haven't eaten, I'll warm your dinner."
"That would be wonderful. A cup of tea as well?" He paused to examine Robin's lip. The swelling had all but gone, and the curve of his lip hid the spot his teeth had savaged. "That looks better. Did you keep ice on it today?"
Nodding, Robin slipped away from him. Tristan went into the bedroom and on into the bath. Ten minutes later, he emerged feeling more human than he had in hours and fell onto the bed. Robin appeared, carefully balancing a plate in one hand, a cup in the other with a sheaf of papers tucked under his arm.
Sitting up against the pillows, Tristan took the plate as Robin set the cup down on the bedside table. "Cutlery?" he inquired.
"Sorry!" Handing him the papers, Robin hurried out.
Tristan set the plate down on the bed beside him and looked at the sheets of paper. As he had expected, Robin's neat penmanship covered each one, repeating the same line over and over: 'I will not endanger...' Nodding, he ripped the pages in half.
"Weren't they right?" Robin asked as he returned with cutlery and a serviette. "I thought that was what you wanted."
"They were fine, but there's no reason to keep them." Picking up his plate, he began eating. He looked up and saw the surprise on Robin's face. "Unless you fancy a reminder?"
"No, but I thought..."
"You thought what, Robbie?" Tristan asked when he did not finish.
Robin shook his head. "Nothing."
"Then why don't you get ready for bed? I'll be done with this in two shakes."
He ate and sipped his tea while Robin changed and went in to brush his teeth. A small worry crease formed between his eyebrows, and he cast occasional glances at Tristan, but he did not pursue his concerns any farther.
Setting the empty plate and cup on the floor, Tristan switched off the light. Robin slipped into his customary place, tilting his head back to brush Tristan's mouth with his own. One soft kiss grew into a series and then something more as Robin gently nibbled Tristan's lips. With a muffled groan, Tristan pulled away.
"Not tonight, darling. I'm exhausted."
Robin reached for him. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me —"
Wrapping his arms around Robin, Tristan pinned him to his chest. "Not tonight," he repeated.
"But this will help you relax," Robin protested.
"Darling, I'm just too tired. Now quiet down." He aimed a swat toward Robin's bottom, the effect dulled by both his own exhaustion and the layer of bedclothes.
"Tris?"
"Can this wait 'til morning?" he mumbled, feeling himself sinking into much-needed sleep.
If Robin answered, he did not hear it. Seventeen-and-a-half hours after it began, Tristan's day finally ended.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
At half-past-eight on Friday night, Sarah rapped lightly on the doorframe and poked her head into Tristan's office. "I've finalised the details for both the press reception and the luncheon. Do you have the time or inclination to go over them tonight?"
Tristan sat back and waved her toward one of the guest chairs. "Is this for 'Bravo by Bradington' or whatever she's calling that muck this week?" At Sarah's nod, he shook his head. "I think it can wait until Monday. Lord knows she'll modify everything when we meet with her."
Sarah yawned and propped her head up on her hand. "With the launch a week away, it will be expensive to change the arrangements a fourth time. The caterer seriously dislikes me after this latest set," she complained.
"Wait until he —"
"She."
"— she meets the lady herself. You'll soon be her nearest and dearest friend." With a flick of his wrist, Tristan closed the folder he had been working on. "Is there any reason either of us should come in tomorrow?"
Sarah stared at the ceiling for a moment, running through her encyclopaedic memory. "I want to check through the Shanta proofs one last time before I release them to the printer, but that's something I can do in front of the television. You've the meeting with O'Halloran on Monday afternoon. Is there anything we should prepare for that?"
Tristan picked up the folder and tossed it into his open briefcase. "A quick review on Sunday afternoon will suffice. Look, why don't we forgo coming in tomorrow? We're both exhausted. I think we need time off."
Sarah grinned and pushed herself to her feet. "In that case, I'm take some time to clear off my desk before I leave. I can't bear the idea of facing that mess on Monday." She paused on her way to the door. "Where has Robin gone to, by the way?"
Tristan stopped in the middle of a stretch to look at her. "Robin? He's at home. Why do you ask?"
"I haven't spoken to him since early in the week. I thought perhaps he was away." She shrugged, looking a tad guilty. "Sometimes we chat for a bit, if you're delayed picking up."
"I think he's trying not to bother me while we're so busy."
"I'd take his one call to Judith Bradington's seven any day," Sarah declared.
Tristan smiled. "So would I."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The only sign of Robin at home was one of his placeholder notes propped up on the coffee table. He left them when he went out expecting to return before Tristan arrived, and they contained only the most basic of information. This one read simply '6:00 Supper Jamie 10-ish' followed by an R.
Tristan crumpled it up as he opened the refrigerator. His supper from the previous night sat on the shelf. They had ordered takeaway at the office just before eight, and he had forgotten to phone. When he had come in at eleven, Robin had already gone to bed. Tristan's kiss good-night mirrored the one he had given Robin before leaving that morning, and constituted the sum of their contact for the day.
Pulling out the plate and the last of a bottle of wine, Tristan nudged the door closed with his foot. He put the plate into the microwave and set the timer. Taking one of their three wineglasses from the cupboard, he emptied the bottle into it.
Taking it with him, he sank onto the sofa. He thought of switching on the television, but was simply too tired to find the remote control. When the microwave beeped, he pulled the plate out using a tea towel. Turning to close the door, he glanced at the little clock above the keypad and blinked, waiting for the numbers to sort themselves out. When they remained steadfastly the same, he looked at his watch. Both had the same time — 11:00.
Reaching for the phone, he dialled Jamie's number and waited for it to connect. Robin lost all sense of time when he and Jamie were together. The evening had started, no doubt, with supper, but there were videos and games scattered throughout Jamie's flat that would have caught and held their attention for a few hours at least.
"'ullo?"
Tristan frowned. He had obviously woken Jamie. "Jamie, it's Tristan. Is Robin there?"
"No, he left ages ago."
"What time, Jamie? Do you remember?"
"Ten. I left him at the tube station on my way home."
Tristan breathed a sigh of relief. The area between Jamie's flat and the station was rough after dark, and he did not like the idea of Robin walking alone.
"Are you certain he isn't there?" Jamie asked, sounding a bit more awake.
"No, he isn't home yet. I thought he might have stayed to watch a video."
"No, he wouldn't come back after we left the pub."
"He's just delayed then. They may have reduced the schedule again."
"I'm coming over."
"Jamie, Robbie's a little late. There's nothing to worry about," Tristan said, and realised he was speaking on a dead line. Jamie had already rung off.
Walking to the window, he pulled back the drape and stared down the street in the direction Robin would come from. He had half-convinced himself there was nothing to worry about when he heard sound outside the door. In two short steps, he was at the door, throwing the bolt open.
"There you —"
Geoff looked back at him, his hair tousled and his eyes swollen with sleep. "Not here yet, eh?"
Tristan stepped back to allow him in then shut the door. "Jamie called you?"
"Who else? He's on his way."
"I told him it wasn't necessary. I'm sure there was a delay on the line or some such thing. They're always working late at night."
Geoff nodded. "That's what I said as well. He's in a panic, though."
"I'm sorry about that. Why don't you go back to bed? Robin will be here any minute, and I'll drive Jamie home when he arrives."
Geoff stretched and yawned. "I'll wait for young Mr. Talbot's arrival, if you don't mind my hanging about."
"No, I'd appreciate the company. Would you like a coffee?"
Geoff agreed it sounded like a good idea, then stretched out on the sofa while Tristan kept his hands, at least, busy with measuring and pouring. His eyes kept straying to the clock, though, and he could not decide if he were more anxious for or angry with his partner.
By half past eleven, he had fixed upon anxious. He sipped the coffee as he kept his vigil on the street below. He was vaguely aware of Geoff muttering reassurances from time to time, but the words were so much garbled nonsense in his ears.
Five minutes later, his spirit soared when he made out a figure hurrying through the shadows. The elation ended when the light from a street lamp caused Jamie's blond hair to glow. He must have made some sound because Geoff was beside him at the window in an instant.
"Robin?" he asked, trying to see.
"Jamie," Tristan choked out.
Geoff put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder then left the flat, ostensibly to let Jamie in. Tristan appreciated the chance to collect himself.
"Where the hell are you, Robbie?" he whispered.
Jamie came in with Geoff a step behind. His eyes were frantic, but he was obviously trying to control himself. "There weren't any delays, Tris. Normal service on both trains."
Tristan nodded and returned to his vigil, unsure what he should say.
Geoff made a coffee for Jamie; dragging him over to the sofa and pushing him down to drink it. "I want you to think, love. Did anything happen while you were together tonight?"
"No," Jamie said absolutely.
"Take a minute and think before you answer," Geoff directed him.
"I've already been over it and over it in my mind. What do you think I was doing on the tube?" Jamie demanded.
Geoff put his hand on Jamie's knee. "I know you're worried. Tris and I are, too. How about telling me what you did?"
"I met Robin at 6:30 at the Shilling. He wanted to stop in the bookshop that's two down from there, so we decided to meet."
"Was he waiting when you arrived?"
"No, I was there first. We had a pint then decided we'd have supper there as well." He turned to Geoff. "This is no good. We should be out there looking for him!"
Geoff ignored the outburst. "Did anyone bother or pay any attention to either of you?"
Tristan half-smiled from his place by the window. It would be a strange night indeed if no one paid attention to Jamie, especially at the Shilling. He knew most of the regulars and spoke to everyone.
"No more than usual. We saw a couple of friends and played some darts, then Robin said he wanted to leave so he'd be home before Tristan."
"Was Robbie worried or upset?" Tristan asked.
Jamie shrugged. "No, floaty more like."
"'Floaty'?" Geoff repeated.
"The way he is when he's writing and trying to get his mind around something. He's with you, but part of him is thinking about other things — floaty," Jamie explained.
Tristan nodded. It was the perfect description of Robin lost in thought.
"So when you left the pub..."
"We walked to the tube station together."
"Did you see him go in?"
"No, he was standing outside when I turned the corner — but he always does that, Geoff! He watches until I reach the corner. You know that neighbourhood!"
Tristan swallowed hard against the fear rising to choke him. "Geoff, which hospital —"
Geoff met his eyes with calm certainty. "No, don't think that for even a moment."
Tristan found his car keys and looked around for his jacket. "I'm going over there and look for myself."
Geoff shook his head, holding his hand out for the keys. "The last thing we need is you driving in the state you're in. Jamie and I will go." When Tristan did not release his grip on the keys, Geoff took them. "Stay here. We'll take my mobile with us and let you know the instant we find something."
"I need to do something!" Tristan protested.
"Tris, the moment we're out of sight, he'll turn up. You should be here." Looking at Jamie, Geoff nodded his head toward the door. "Let's go, you."
Jamie all but ran from the flat, and Tristan heard him pounding down the stairs.
"I won't tell you not to worry, because it would be impossible not to. What I will say is that he's all right."
"How do you know?"
"Robin's an able one, Tris. We tend to forget that. He'll find his way home, never you mind." With that, he followed Jamie out.
Tristan watched until the car turned the corner and disappeared from sight. A knot had formed in his stomach and grew tighter with every passing minute. He forced himself away from the window long enough to take his still full dinner plate to the kitchen. Binning the food, he scrubbed the plate until he was dangerously close to removing the pattern from its surface. Needing the steadying, he downed the remainder of his wine then washed the glass as well.
"Come home, love," he whispered as he took his place at the window once more, his eyes straining to see farther into the shadows.
Part 3
Robin was curled up on the sofa reading, his glasses halfway down his nose as he ignored the closing minutes of the news. Grabbing the remote off a sofa cushion, Tristan lowered the volume before dropping a kiss on the top of Robin's head.
"I don't think we need it that loud, darling. The neighbours have televisions of their own." Yanking his tie free of its knot, he began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm for a shower, all right?"
Robin put his book aside. "If you haven't eaten, I'll warm your dinner."
"That would be wonderful. A cup of tea as well?" He paused to examine Robin's lip. The swelling had all but gone, and the curve of his lip hid the spot his teeth had savaged. "That looks better. Did you keep ice on it today?"
Nodding, Robin slipped away from him. Tristan went into the bedroom and on into the bath. Ten minutes later, he emerged feeling more human than he had in hours and fell onto the bed. Robin appeared, carefully balancing a plate in one hand, a cup in the other with a sheaf of papers tucked under his arm.
Sitting up against the pillows, Tristan took the plate as Robin set the cup down on the bedside table. "Cutlery?" he inquired.
"Sorry!" Handing him the papers, Robin hurried out.
Tristan set the plate down on the bed beside him and looked at the sheets of paper. As he had expected, Robin's neat penmanship covered each one, repeating the same line over and over: 'I will not endanger...' Nodding, he ripped the pages in half.
"Weren't they right?" Robin asked as he returned with cutlery and a serviette. "I thought that was what you wanted."
"They were fine, but there's no reason to keep them." Picking up his plate, he began eating. He looked up and saw the surprise on Robin's face. "Unless you fancy a reminder?"
"No, but I thought..."
"You thought what, Robbie?" Tristan asked when he did not finish.
Robin shook his head. "Nothing."
"Then why don't you get ready for bed? I'll be done with this in two shakes."
He ate and sipped his tea while Robin changed and went in to brush his teeth. A small worry crease formed between his eyebrows, and he cast occasional glances at Tristan, but he did not pursue his concerns any farther.
Setting the empty plate and cup on the floor, Tristan switched off the light. Robin slipped into his customary place, tilting his head back to brush Tristan's mouth with his own. One soft kiss grew into a series and then something more as Robin gently nibbled Tristan's lips. With a muffled groan, Tristan pulled away.
"Not tonight, darling. I'm exhausted."
Robin reached for him. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me —"
Wrapping his arms around Robin, Tristan pinned him to his chest. "Not tonight," he repeated.
"But this will help you relax," Robin protested.
"Darling, I'm just too tired. Now quiet down." He aimed a swat toward Robin's bottom, the effect dulled by both his own exhaustion and the layer of bedclothes.
"Tris?"
"Can this wait 'til morning?" he mumbled, feeling himself sinking into much-needed sleep.
If Robin answered, he did not hear it. Seventeen-and-a-half hours after it began, Tristan's day finally ended.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
At half-past-eight on Friday night, Sarah rapped lightly on the doorframe and poked her head into Tristan's office. "I've finalised the details for both the press reception and the luncheon. Do you have the time or inclination to go over them tonight?"
Tristan sat back and waved her toward one of the guest chairs. "Is this for 'Bravo by Bradington' or whatever she's calling that muck this week?" At Sarah's nod, he shook his head. "I think it can wait until Monday. Lord knows she'll modify everything when we meet with her."
Sarah yawned and propped her head up on her hand. "With the launch a week away, it will be expensive to change the arrangements a fourth time. The caterer seriously dislikes me after this latest set," she complained.
"Wait until he —"
"She."
"— she meets the lady herself. You'll soon be her nearest and dearest friend." With a flick of his wrist, Tristan closed the folder he had been working on. "Is there any reason either of us should come in tomorrow?"
Sarah stared at the ceiling for a moment, running through her encyclopaedic memory. "I want to check through the Shanta proofs one last time before I release them to the printer, but that's something I can do in front of the television. You've the meeting with O'Halloran on Monday afternoon. Is there anything we should prepare for that?"
Tristan picked up the folder and tossed it into his open briefcase. "A quick review on Sunday afternoon will suffice. Look, why don't we forgo coming in tomorrow? We're both exhausted. I think we need time off."
Sarah grinned and pushed herself to her feet. "In that case, I'm take some time to clear off my desk before I leave. I can't bear the idea of facing that mess on Monday." She paused on her way to the door. "Where has Robin gone to, by the way?"
Tristan stopped in the middle of a stretch to look at her. "Robin? He's at home. Why do you ask?"
"I haven't spoken to him since early in the week. I thought perhaps he was away." She shrugged, looking a tad guilty. "Sometimes we chat for a bit, if you're delayed picking up."
"I think he's trying not to bother me while we're so busy."
"I'd take his one call to Judith Bradington's seven any day," Sarah declared.
Tristan smiled. "So would I."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The only sign of Robin at home was one of his placeholder notes propped up on the coffee table. He left them when he went out expecting to return before Tristan arrived, and they contained only the most basic of information. This one read simply '6:00 Supper Jamie 10-ish' followed by an R.
Tristan crumpled it up as he opened the refrigerator. His supper from the previous night sat on the shelf. They had ordered takeaway at the office just before eight, and he had forgotten to phone. When he had come in at eleven, Robin had already gone to bed. Tristan's kiss good-night mirrored the one he had given Robin before leaving that morning, and constituted the sum of their contact for the day.
Pulling out the plate and the last of a bottle of wine, Tristan nudged the door closed with his foot. He put the plate into the microwave and set the timer. Taking one of their three wineglasses from the cupboard, he emptied the bottle into it.
Taking it with him, he sank onto the sofa. He thought of switching on the television, but was simply too tired to find the remote control. When the microwave beeped, he pulled the plate out using a tea towel. Turning to close the door, he glanced at the little clock above the keypad and blinked, waiting for the numbers to sort themselves out. When they remained steadfastly the same, he looked at his watch. Both had the same time — 11:00.
Reaching for the phone, he dialled Jamie's number and waited for it to connect. Robin lost all sense of time when he and Jamie were together. The evening had started, no doubt, with supper, but there were videos and games scattered throughout Jamie's flat that would have caught and held their attention for a few hours at least.
"'ullo?"
Tristan frowned. He had obviously woken Jamie. "Jamie, it's Tristan. Is Robin there?"
"No, he left ages ago."
"What time, Jamie? Do you remember?"
"Ten. I left him at the tube station on my way home."
Tristan breathed a sigh of relief. The area between Jamie's flat and the station was rough after dark, and he did not like the idea of Robin walking alone.
"Are you certain he isn't there?" Jamie asked, sounding a bit more awake.
"No, he isn't home yet. I thought he might have stayed to watch a video."
"No, he wouldn't come back after we left the pub."
"He's just delayed then. They may have reduced the schedule again."
"I'm coming over."
"Jamie, Robbie's a little late. There's nothing to worry about," Tristan said, and realised he was speaking on a dead line. Jamie had already rung off.
Walking to the window, he pulled back the drape and stared down the street in the direction Robin would come from. He had half-convinced himself there was nothing to worry about when he heard sound outside the door. In two short steps, he was at the door, throwing the bolt open.
"There you —"
Geoff looked back at him, his hair tousled and his eyes swollen with sleep. "Not here yet, eh?"
Tristan stepped back to allow him in then shut the door. "Jamie called you?"
"Who else? He's on his way."
"I told him it wasn't necessary. I'm sure there was a delay on the line or some such thing. They're always working late at night."
Geoff nodded. "That's what I said as well. He's in a panic, though."
"I'm sorry about that. Why don't you go back to bed? Robin will be here any minute, and I'll drive Jamie home when he arrives."
Geoff stretched and yawned. "I'll wait for young Mr. Talbot's arrival, if you don't mind my hanging about."
"No, I'd appreciate the company. Would you like a coffee?"
Geoff agreed it sounded like a good idea, then stretched out on the sofa while Tristan kept his hands, at least, busy with measuring and pouring. His eyes kept straying to the clock, though, and he could not decide if he were more anxious for or angry with his partner.
By half past eleven, he had fixed upon anxious. He sipped the coffee as he kept his vigil on the street below. He was vaguely aware of Geoff muttering reassurances from time to time, but the words were so much garbled nonsense in his ears.
Five minutes later, his spirit soared when he made out a figure hurrying through the shadows. The elation ended when the light from a street lamp caused Jamie's blond hair to glow. He must have made some sound because Geoff was beside him at the window in an instant.
"Robin?" he asked, trying to see.
"Jamie," Tristan choked out.
Geoff put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder then left the flat, ostensibly to let Jamie in. Tristan appreciated the chance to collect himself.
"Where the hell are you, Robbie?" he whispered.
Jamie came in with Geoff a step behind. His eyes were frantic, but he was obviously trying to control himself. "There weren't any delays, Tris. Normal service on both trains."
Tristan nodded and returned to his vigil, unsure what he should say.
Geoff made a coffee for Jamie; dragging him over to the sofa and pushing him down to drink it. "I want you to think, love. Did anything happen while you were together tonight?"
"No," Jamie said absolutely.
"Take a minute and think before you answer," Geoff directed him.
"I've already been over it and over it in my mind. What do you think I was doing on the tube?" Jamie demanded.
Geoff put his hand on Jamie's knee. "I know you're worried. Tris and I are, too. How about telling me what you did?"
"I met Robin at 6:30 at the Shilling. He wanted to stop in the bookshop that's two down from there, so we decided to meet."
"Was he waiting when you arrived?"
"No, I was there first. We had a pint then decided we'd have supper there as well." He turned to Geoff. "This is no good. We should be out there looking for him!"
Geoff ignored the outburst. "Did anyone bother or pay any attention to either of you?"
Tristan half-smiled from his place by the window. It would be a strange night indeed if no one paid attention to Jamie, especially at the Shilling. He knew most of the regulars and spoke to everyone.
"No more than usual. We saw a couple of friends and played some darts, then Robin said he wanted to leave so he'd be home before Tristan."
"Was Robbie worried or upset?" Tristan asked.
Jamie shrugged. "No, floaty more like."
"'Floaty'?" Geoff repeated.
"The way he is when he's writing and trying to get his mind around something. He's with you, but part of him is thinking about other things — floaty," Jamie explained.
Tristan nodded. It was the perfect description of Robin lost in thought.
"So when you left the pub..."
"We walked to the tube station together."
"Did you see him go in?"
"No, he was standing outside when I turned the corner — but he always does that, Geoff! He watches until I reach the corner. You know that neighbourhood!"
Tristan swallowed hard against the fear rising to choke him. "Geoff, which hospital —"
Geoff met his eyes with calm certainty. "No, don't think that for even a moment."
Tristan found his car keys and looked around for his jacket. "I'm going over there and look for myself."
Geoff shook his head, holding his hand out for the keys. "The last thing we need is you driving in the state you're in. Jamie and I will go." When Tristan did not release his grip on the keys, Geoff took them. "Stay here. We'll take my mobile with us and let you know the instant we find something."
"I need to do something!" Tristan protested.
"Tris, the moment we're out of sight, he'll turn up. You should be here." Looking at Jamie, Geoff nodded his head toward the door. "Let's go, you."
Jamie all but ran from the flat, and Tristan heard him pounding down the stairs.
"I won't tell you not to worry, because it would be impossible not to. What I will say is that he's all right."
"How do you know?"
"Robin's an able one, Tris. We tend to forget that. He'll find his way home, never you mind." With that, he followed Jamie out.
Tristan watched until the car turned the corner and disappeared from sight. A knot had formed in his stomach and grew tighter with every passing minute. He forced himself away from the window long enough to take his still full dinner plate to the kitchen. Binning the food, he scrubbed the plate until he was dangerously close to removing the pattern from its surface. Needing the steadying, he downed the remainder of his wine then washed the glass as well.
"Come home, love," he whispered as he took his place at the window once more, his eyes straining to see farther into the shadows.
Part 3