Rentboy

wall as if he thought Edward was about
    to lunge at him. “You keep your distance.”
    The funnier side of life almost always evaded Edward, but even he nearly burst out laughing at
    the thought of offering to buy sex from the dirt-encrusted, elderly man before him. “Yes. I’ll stay back
    here.” The smell was enough to put off a mangy dog, let alone the thought of catching something
    similar to the things Edward observed every day in petri dishes. “I wanted to know if you could tell
    me anything about him.”
    “Fox? I already told you. He don’t live on the street. Too clean.”
    “Yes, I know. What else?
    “He’s a nice young fella, Fox is. Took me out for lunch one day, he did.” The man raised his
    chin ever so slightly when he said it, as if being taken out for lunch raised his status. It had obviously
    raised his self-esteem. “The Tofu Factory.”
    “He took me there too,” Eddie said. It all seemed so long ago now.
    “Bet they let you sit down and eat your grub, didn’t they? They wouldn’t have none of me sitting
    in their chairs. ‘Get out,’ they said. So Fox said, ‘Then we will have it to carry out.’ ” He changed
    his accent to one similar to Edward’s as he said it. But Fox never spoke like that. The old man must
    be attempting to convey Fox’s tone. “He was right annoyed with them, he was. We sat on a bench on
    the street and ate together like it was a picnic. Nice lad, Fox.”
    “I thought so too at first,” Edward mumbled. “Did he have a lot of customers?”
    When the man shrugged, not just his shoulders but all his clothing moved; stiff with dirt and
    grease, it was like a shell rather than clothes.
    “Never saw him go off with anyone but you.”
    “You must have.”
    Looking agitated, the man raised his voice. “I said I never.”
    “Of course.” Edward finally caught on and took a tenner from his wallet. “There you are. Ten
    pounds. Now tell me how many men you saw pick him up.”
    With one filthy hand the man snatched the money from Edward. “I already told you. He never
    went with no one but you.”
    Why did he care anyway? Fox had dumped him because he was too old. He had lied to him
    because he was a liar.
    “I don’t have any more money on me.”
    “You could come back with the Royal Mint, and I’d still have nothing else to tell you. He was
    here for about a week, just sitting in the box, watching men and chatting to me. When any bloke came
    too near, he shook his head. One night he had a swollen eye. I could see it was swollen even through
    all that girly shit he likes to put on his face. Didn’t want to talk about it, but after a while he told me
    his dad hit him.”
    “I wouldn’t believe everything he tells you,” Edward said. “In fact I wouldn’t believe half of it.
    He told me his father was dead. Then the man appeared in the park and gave me a black eye.”
    “Well, I did believe him. I could see in his face it was true, but you believe what you want, Mr.
    La-Di-Da.” That the old man was miffed was apparent even to Edward. It was also apparent that he
    liked Fox. “He never went off with no one until you came along, and then he went with you two times.
    I haven’t seen him since, and I’d like to, even though a man in a skirt makes me a bit nervous.”
    “So he was here only a few days and only went with me. No one else.”
    “Are you dense or what? I already told you. I seen you, though.”
    Edward dropped his gaze, not caring to be reminded that he had been in Soho looking for a
    prostitute. “I’d better go.”
    “Seen you a few times,” the old man persisted.
    “You saw me twice picking up Fox. I admit it.” He began to walk away. The stink of the alley
    was becoming unbearable.
    “Saw you before that. You was hanging round here a lot before you went off with Fox.”
    Stopping, Edward listened but did not turn around. It was true. For several weeks he had been
    coming to Tisbury Court, working up the courage to pick up a man. But there seemed to be some
    unspoken code he could never quite work out. Other men would walk up the alleys or out on the
    street, see a young man or woman, and do some sort of silent transaction, then wander off with them.
    Whatever happened was beyond his comprehension. If Fox had not actually addressed him that night,
    he would have walked away unsatisfied yet again. However, since he had not spoken to anyone, he
    had assumed his passage had gone unnoticed. If you keep quiet, you are