Angel and the Assassin

the Barbies were brought out.
    “Kael, how did you know? They love that stuff.”
    Freddie and Adam beamed. Kael looked down at Angel, who smiled back with
    an “I told you so” look. “It was Angel‟s idea. What do they do with them?” he asked.
    “Oh they take the clothes off them and break the heads off, but they play with
    them for hours,” Freddie said.
    “Is it a good influence?” Kael asked. “I mean, look at those things.” With
    Adam‟s help the children were ripping the dolls from the boxes.
    “It‟s a terrible influence,” Adam said, “but little girls love them. We held off as
    long as possible. We swore we‟d never let them have such awful things, but we gave
    in when refusing bordered on child abuse.” He laughed.
    “Come on, let‟s get some drinks,” Freddie said.

    * * *
    The meal wasn‟t bad at all. When Kael realized the children would be sitting

    down with them, he feared they would be served tinned beans and fish fingers, but
    the linguine with clam sauce and endive salad was excellent.
    The little girls ate like cannibals, kneeling up on their chairs with food all over
    their faces and bibs, eating with their fingers more than their forks. Neither
    Freddie nor Adam seemed to notice. The girls chattered to Angel like he was an old
    friend, and Kael was amazed at his ease with them, at how he answered their
    questions and made stupid jokes that had them screaming with laughter.
    “Girls, knock, knock.”
    Zoe caught on at once. “Who‟s there?”
    “Daddy.”
    “Daddy who?”
    “Daddy long legs.”
    The girls went hysterical. “That‟s not even a joke; it doesn‟t make sense,” Kael
    said, confused. Then he saw Angel was surreptitiously pointing at him. Freddie and
    Adam joined in the laughter. “Very funny,” Kael said grudgingly.
    “You‟re so good with kids, Angel. Do you have little brothers and sisters?”
    Adam asked.
    “No, sir, but I was in foster homes for a long time and there was always other
    little kids around, so I‟m used to them.”
    Freddie looked at Angel and then at Kael. If he had spoken at that moment, he
    would have said, Awww.
    Kael kept a close eye on Angel while they ate. The only time he had to
    discipline him was when Angel sat playing with the leftover clams on his plate. He

    Angel and the Assassin
    131

    didn‟t like them and stirred them about with his fork. Kael nudged his elbow. “Don‟t
    play with your food.” Angel kept his hands in his lap after that
    “Bath time, girls,” Adam said directly after they had eaten. “When you‟re in
    your nighties, you can come down for your chocolate cake.”
    “I want Angel to come too,” Zoe demanded.
    “I want Angel.” Amelia joined in. She repeated everything her older sister said.
    Angel looked at Kael. “Daddy, is it okay if I help them with their bath?”
    “Rather you than me,” Kael said.
    Alone in the living room with Freddie, he sat, legs stretched out, sipping a
    whiskey. They reminisced about College Grange, both making jokes about Conran
    and what a little Nazi he was. Kael refrained from saying he worked with him now
    or even that he still saw him. Freddie talked about his work in the courts and his
    life with Adam and the girls, but Kael was closemouthed about his own career. He
    briefly mentioned security and working as an interpreter.
    “I love you, Kael.” Freddie‟s round glasses shone with the lamplight on them,
    and all Kael could see was shiny glass and a big smiling mouth underneath.
    “Shut up.”
    Freddie laughed, his belly bouncing up and down. He drank a mouthful of his
    wine. “I knew you‟d say that. But it‟s true. I always loved you to bits. I‟m in love
    with Adam, but I love you. I‟ve missed you.”
    Kael laughed too. “Yeah, all right, mate.”
    “You‟re in love with your young man. Your sweet Angel.”
    “I am not,” Kael protested immediately.
    “The way you look at him,” Freddie said.
    “I‟m looking after him for a bit, that‟s all. He‟s too young and I‟m too busy. I
    have no time for nonsense.”
    Freddie looked about the room at the toys, the cat sitting in the middle of an
    expensive leather chair. The remains of a snack on a patterned plastic plate sat on a
    small table from earlier in the day. “This, you mean? Domesticity? I grant you, it‟s
    not for everyone. Adam does a great job with the girls. He thinks it‟s more
    important to take them swimming than to clean the house, and I agree with him.
    We can