“What are you doing here?”
Paolo spun around. Luis stood behind him, leaning on a lamp post, his hair messy and damp. He looked tired, but not in the way of a man who’d been up all night doing anything fun. It was a different kind of weary, one that haunted a man and weighed him down. “I was taking a walk,” Paolo said.
Luis’s brow ticked up. “Round here? You’re brave.”
“Stupid, actually. I was going to drop your cash off too.”
“You’re walking these streets with a pocket of cash? Fucking-A.” Luis pushed off the lamp post. “Yeah, you are stupid. Why didn’t you just give it to me tomorrow?”
Because you left without saying goodbye, and I was worried about you. Paolo doled out his best Luis-style shrug. “Fancied a walk. And I thought you might need it. You’ve had no money since you got out.”
“Haven’t needed any. You feed me every day.”
“What about bills?”
“Not till next week. And I had enough cash from my discharge grant to top up the electric.”
“Fair enough.” Paolo fished the small roll of bills from his pocket and held it out.
Luis pushed his hand down and hissed through his teeth. “Not out here. Are you fucking nuts? One side will do you for dealing while the other will smash you up for slinging on their turf.”
Paolo rolled his eyes but let his hand drop all the same. “Whatever. You want me to take it home and give it to you tomorrow, or are you gonna invite me in?”
“You want to see my shithole of a flat?”
“I want you to have your money so you can take care of yourself.”
“And give you your coat back, huh?”
“What? No. That’s not why.” Luis was still wearing Paolo’s hoodie. He started to take it off. Paolo gripped his arms and forced them down. “Stop it. I don’t want it back.”
“Then why are you really here?”
“Because—” Paolo pursed his lips. What the fuck was he about to say? That he couldn’t stand the thought of Luis being alone despite the fact that they’d only spent one whole night together? That he missed him and wanted to take him to bed? If Luis didn’t think he was a lunatic by now, he would then. “Because I was worried about you. You left without saying anything.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had something I had to do.”
“Like seeing your brother?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Luis shrugged. “What do you care? I already told that prick Dante sent not to come up on me at work. It won’t happen again.”
Paolo blinked. It was like talking to someone else. Like talking to the Luis Pope he’d first imagined when he’d looked up to see him waiting at the counter. “That wasn’t what I was worried about, but whatever. There’s your money, bro. See you in the morning.”
He tossed Luis’s cash at his feet and walked away.
Silence followed him, then footsteps, fast and heavy. Rough hands grabbed him and spun him around. Expecting a mugger, Paolo hit out. Luis took the shove to his chest and held firm. “You fucking lunatic.”
The echo of his own thoughts brought Paolo back to reality. He stopped struggling. “You’re the one wrestling with me in the middle of the street.”
“Only because I don’t want you to leave like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like a crazy person who throws money at people.”
“It’s your money.”
“So? Give it to me, don’t throw it at me.”
“You’re annoying.”
“Everything annoys you.”
Paolo rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t make you less annoying.”
Luis cracked a fleeting smile. He loosened his grip on Paolo, then seemed to change his mind and held him tighter, frowning again. “I don’t want you to leave at all, but I don’t want to show you my shitty bedsit either.”
“Why? My flat’s shitty too.”
“Trust me, it’s not.”
“Who do you think I am? Like, really? Some arsehole who looks down his nose at people? Luis, mate. The reason I knew who you were is because we’re from the same place. Why would I judge you?”
Luis searched Paolo’s face, though for what, Paolo had no idea. He waited, perversely enjoying the roughness of Luis’s hold, until Luis seemed to find what he was looking for. “Come on, then.”
He let Paolo go and spun on his heel. Paolo followed him to a terraced house in the middle of the row and through a battered front door. Muffled music rattled the dingy hallway. Luis nodded to a door at the end. “I’m on the ground floor.”
“At the back or the front?”
“The back.”
There was an odd reassurance in knowing he could’ve stood on the street all night and still not caught a glimpse of Luis. That if Luis had been home, he’d never have known Paolo’s madness. But then, he was a perceptive motherfucker. Perhaps he’d have taken one look at Paolo the next day and figured it out.
Luis unlocked the door at the end of the hallway and waved Paolo into a tiny bedsit that was spotlessly clean.
And empty. Only a small divan bed took up the corner of the main room, neatly made with blue sheets. The bag Luis had carried when he’d first drifted into the cafe was in the corner, open with a small stack of clean clothes. There was nothing else, no TV, stereo, or furniture, just a storage heater that looked a hundred years old.
Through another door was a kitchen area with a single-ring hob, a fridge, and a toaster. Paolo frowned. “Where’s your washing machine?”
“In the bathroom.”
“What?”
“It’s in the bathroom,” Luis repeated. “Go look if you don’t believe me.”
Paolo looked, and when he saw the washing machine tucked in next to the shower, he laughed. “Wow. That’s as good a use of space if I’ve ever seen it. Does it work?”
“Yeah, it’s noisy as fuck, though. So I don’t use it at night.”
Paolo turned his back on the bizarre bathroom and re-joined Luis in his kitchen. There was a pot on the stove. “What’s in there?”
“Beans.”
“What kind of beans?”
“Kidney beans, with chilli sauce and bacon.”
“Show me?”
“Erm, okay.” Luis lifted the lid of the pot. Deep red beans were sitting in a fiery sauce of tomatoes, chilli flakes, and sautéed bacon. It was as good a dinner as Paolo had ever seen, and his empty belly rumbled.
Luis laughed. “Hungry?”
“Of course. I’m Italian and I haven’t eaten for more than an hour.”
Luis had bread and a tub of butter. He ladled his bean concoction into two mugs and passed Paolo a spoon. “Sorry, I only had one fork, and I broke it fixing the fuse box.”
“I’m filing that away for the next time something blows at the cafe.” Paolo followed Luis out of the kitchen and sat opposite him, cross legged, on the floor.
The beans were good . . . so good, Paolo finished his in ten seconds flat and sat back against the wall while Luis ate. “This place isn’t so bad.”